Archive of Our Own

“This is almost absurdly minor in relation to everything else that's been going on, but could one of you come over and take Demodus out to lunch or something?” Bolaire requested over dinner at the Seven Stars. “I think he's been going rather stir-crazy in my apartment and getting out for a bit would probably do him a world of good. With a disguise it might not be too dangerous for him to go alone, but I'd feel better if he had backup, and someone to talk to besides me.”

“I can do it,” Azune immediately offered. “I have patrol up that way tomorrow and I could take lunch with him.”

“That won't be seen as suspicious?” Hal said. Azune recognized that his tone wasn't meant to be doubting, just a little worried for Azune's safety. He'd have to do more to reassure him in the future.

“No. I usually stop for a bite to eat during long patrols anyway. Sometimes a couple times. I eat a lot.” Passing by vendors selling food and not buying anything always seemed to turn his stomach a little bit. Even though eating did too sometimes.

“Okay then. I'll tell Demodus to expect you.”

“Sounds good.”

Despite the fact that Bolaire had told him that Azune Nayar, the Arcane Marshal apparently working with him and Mz. Mag’nesson, would be coming over today to accompany him out to lunch, Demodus nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice in his head. He'd been expecting a knock on the door, but maybe that was stupid, given the secrecy they'd clearly been keeping. 

“Mr. Blix, it's Azune Nayar. If you'd still like to get lunch, I am outside down the block.”

“Yes, I'll come meet you!” Demodus replied quickly, then winced. He had been wanting to not look like an overeager kid in front of the Marshal. All his reminders to himself to that effect over the past half hour or so, however, had regarded not opening the door without checking who had knocked and remembering to cast Disguise Self first. He had not been prepared to act cool and collected inside his own head. 

At least now with Azune waiting down the block, he had a moment to make sure his disguise looked smart and dignified, and a little bit older than he was, with a nice beard, before heading out. Also, Azune didn't have to see him struggle to reach Mr. Lathalia's doorknob where it stood at a distinctly non-gnomish height above his head. Getting outside was easy, once he realized he could use Mage Hand, but locking the door after him was more difficult. At least Bolaire seemed to have anticipated what he himself had not, as there was a brick placed to the side of the stoop for Demodus to stand on. Between that and straining up to his tiptoes, he could just reach.

Lieutenant Nayar stood at the corner at the end of the block, watching the crowd. He stood up tall, his back straight, arms at his sides as he watched people move around him. Notably, he didn't look towards Bolaire’s apartment more than he looked in any other direction. Unlike how Demodus himself had been unable to unglue his eyes from the door while he'd been waiting, too excited for the chance to finally leave for the first time in a week. 

As Demodus approached, he wondered if he should try to Message Azune to let him know it was him. But he was never very subtle with his spellcasting. And anyway, Azune turned to him with a smile as he approached. He wondered if his disguise was just totally childish and cliche, or if Azune had Detect Magic still up like he knew Arcane Marshals used in their work, or if it was just obvious when he was waiting for a gnome and one came up to him. There was only so far a disguise could go, after all.

“Hi! It's me. Oh, uh, you probably already realized that though,” Demodus instantly began to ramble as he came up to Azune. “Thank you for doing this, seriously. Do you, ah, know any good restaurants around here? I'm not super familiar with the neighborhood. Mr. Lathalia has been bringing takeout home but I don't know if it's from places around here or closer to the Archanade, and I know it's been The Seven Stars once, but that's far enough away that it was all cold by the time it got to me so it probably wasn't representative of what they have…”

Demodus trailed off, realizing belatedly that he wasn't giving Azune a chance to get a word in edgewise, and unlike Miss Mag'nesson, he didn't seem inclined to interrupt the rambling, just waiting apparently patiently. 

A few seconds after Demodus trailed off, Azune spoke up. “There’s a place a few blocks away that has good sandwiches and soups and salads too, I believe. I normally get one to go but they also have places to sit and eat that should be quiet and comfortable.”

“Okay. That sounds good,” Demodus agreed, and followed at Azune’s side as he started leading him towards, presumably, the café. The Arcane Marshall could obviously walk much faster than Demodus, since his legs were longer than the gnome himself was tall, even including his hair, but he slowed his stride to match with a comfortable gait for his companion.

“So, Mister, or I guess, no, it’s Lieutenant, isn’t it? Lieutenant Nayar-”

“Please call me Azune, Mister Blix,” Azune said, his voice pitched low.

“Well, in that case you shouldn’t call me Mister either,” he replied. “Although, I guess, my name’s a little distinctive and I probably shouldn’t go around saying it too loud out of doors…” There were still who knew how many very bad people looking for him… “Call me Gil.” That was another name he’d been considering for himself back when he was changing his name, before he decided he wanted something distinctive. Just… not in these circumstances.

“Okay, Gil,” Azune said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. You were saying?”

“I… don’t remember. It’s fine, it’ll come back to me.”

They arrived at the café before his train of thought returned anyway. It was counter service rather than a sit-down place, which was good because those were usually cheaper, and the counter had been made to accommodate little folk as well as tall ones, with a small set of steps over half the place where a customer could step up to order. The menu and prices were listed on a chalkboard at a height easy for everyone to see. Instinctively, Demodus started patting his pockets to compare what he had to the prices as he looked for the cheapest item that would still be satisfying. Most of the listings came in at least two sizes, like a cup or a bowl for the soups and a half or a full for the sandwiches. He was just wondering whether a cup of the stew would be a better deal than half a bacon sandwich when he realized his fingers weren’t finding anything in his vest. 

He’d forgotten any coins. All of the gold they’d given him, which was a lot even if not quite as much as he was owed by the Tachonis, had been stashed safely in a fake book on Bolaire’s shelf. It was a little discomfiting that it hadn’t moved in nearly a week now, since Bolaire insisted he didn’t need to pay rent or anything or pay him back for the food he brought home, but it was a relief too. With everything else going on, it gave him a sense of security to not watch the funds drain away little by little. But he was so out of the habit of leaving the house now that he’d somehow forgotten to grab some of the copper and maybe a silver, which he’d already had Bolaire make change for from a gold.

“Azune, I have to- I’m sorry, I have to go back,” he apologized. The Arcane Marshal’s eyes flitted to him before looking quickly and intently all around them. Searching for a threat, Demodus realized. He thought that was why he wanted to go, that he was too scared to be out any longer. “I forgot any money.”

“Oh.” Azune seemed to instantly relax when he realized there was no danger, his shoulders dropping from where they’d begun to tighten underneath his cloak. “That’s okay, I’ve got it.”

“I’ll pay you back!”

Azune shrugged. “If you want to, but don’t worry about it. I like buying food for people.”

Demodus forced himself to nod and not make a thing of it. He was trying to be low-key, after all. He would be paying Azune back though. He made sure to note the cost of the cup of soup he decided on (it was cheaper than even the cheapest half of a sandwich) and took note of the sandwich Azune ordered for himself, and how much he paid, and how much was left over that the Marshal told the server to keep as a tip. It was a generous three copper, but not exorbitant like Bolaire. 

Azune took the tray passed to them with their food and brought it over to a table by the wall. The bench there had a thin step for small folk to help them climb up and to rest their feet on so they wouldn’t dangle. That was a nice touch. Lots of cafés and other establishments in the city had door openers so gnomes and halflings could get in, but less attention was often paid to their comfort, especially when a place catered as much to takeout as dine-in. Azune immediately took the chair opposite. The cafe wasn’t too busy, but there was what seemed to be a regular lunch crowd and a hum of chatter through the space that would help them blend in and disguise what they were talking about.

Not that Azune seemed interested in talking for a bit. As soon as he’d passed Demodus his cup of soup, the man dug into his sandwich, eating not ravenously but quickly. He must’ve been hungry from his patrol. Demodus’s soup was too hot to eat for now, so he blew on a spoonful of it at a time until it was a good temperature to eat. It was only once Azune had finished about half of his full-sized sandwich did he start trying to make conversation.

“So, um, how have you been holding up?” he asked, a little awkwardly. 

“Oh, ah, you know. I’ve been writing down everything I remember like you asked, but it’s… hard. Trying to stay busy otherwise to keep my mind off of it but there's almost nothing I can do,” Demodus wondered if he was oversharing, especially given that he had just met Azune even if he had saved his life and also seemed to be good friends with both Murray and Bolaire. He couldn’t seem to stop, though. Demodus was a person who thrived on interaction with others, and since he couldn’t go out and Bolaire was rarely home, and often sleeping when he was, the only being he had been regularly able to talk to for the past three days was Figment. 

“I've cleaned and reorganized Bolaire's whole apartment, like, three times. It seems the least I could do and it gives me something to do. I still can't get rid of the smell though.”

“The smell?”

“Of all the rotting food.”

“The what.”

“It’s cleaned up now, don’t worry.”

“That’s not… there was rotting food in Bolaire’s apartment?”

“Uh, yeah. Bolaire said he buys food to keep up appearances but doesn’t need to eat. That’s one good thing about me staying there, I guess? Although I don’t eat too much either. He’s started stress-eating though, apparently. Have you ever seen him eat? It’s freaky. Not that- sorry, I shouldn’t talk bad about him, he’s been so nice letting me stay. Not to mention rescuing me from the Crow Keepers.”

“... before you were there, he was just letting it rot?”

Demodus opened his mouth to reply in the affirmative… and then stopped, his mouth still open. Azune hadn’t been talking loudly before, so they wouldn’t be overheard by the staff or other patrons in the quiet café, but now his voice had gone quiet. He wasn’t looking at Demodus anymore either, his gaze fixed on something over his left shoulder. Worse, his eyes had gone sort of blank and empty, something Demodus was more familiar with in the literal sense. He had pretty eyes. That was beside the point. The point was, something was wrong. 

It didn’t take Demodus long to work out what. Not when Azune was repeating the part of the story clearly bothering him, in that tone, with that little hesitation in his voice. Not when he had been going at his meal steadily, methodically. He had only stopped once Demodus mentioned the rotting food, and it wasn’t like he’d set his sandwich down in disgust at the idea. No, he was holding it tighter, so tightly in fact that the toppings were starting to get squeezed out the top. Although Demodus knew he was young and could be a little naive sometimes, these signs weren’t hard to read.

Demodus himself had been poor and scrambling for as long as he could remember, but he’d never gone hungry. In the years between when his family left him at the Penteveral and when he got old enough to work, Miss Mag'nesson had worked hard keeping him on scholarship, and she’d made very sure that that included food. He didn’t have a limitless budget, and he’d had to watch what he bought to make sure it wasn’t too expensive, but he’d never gone to bed with a gnawing in his stomach. None of the other Penteveral kids had either. Demodus suspected sometimes that Murray was padding that particular fund from her own meager salary to make sure they ate. He’d only stopped receiving a weekly food stipend when he turned eighteen.

Demodus didn’t want to assume anything, but he thought based on his reaction to the idea of food being wasted that Azune had probably gone to bed without his supper a lot growing up, or worse. Probably worse.

“Yeah… sorry,” Demodus murmured. He wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.”

A slight edge had crept into Azune’s voice, crowding out the blankness, making it clear that he did think it was someone’s fault, and he knew who that someone was. Well, obviously he knew who it was. Bolaire was the only conceivable party responsible for buying food and letting it rot in his apartment. Whether the sentient mask knew how much that would bother his friend, or even understood the weight of his actions in a world where folks who needed to eat went hungry, was a different question. One Demodus did not feel at all prepared to answer. 

Nor did he particularly want to wade into the middle of what he felt sure was going to be an argument, if not a fight, between Azune and Bolaire over this. But having brought it up in the first place, he also felt a responsibility to try to perhaps smooth things over or lessen the fallout. He had also been a little disgusted at the state of Bolaire’s kitchen and its rotting food, both by the smell and the bugs and by being unable to stop himself tallying up how much it must’ve all cost. But he also couldn’t not be grateful to Bolaire for giving him a place to say, and he didn’t want to reward that with accidentally ratting on his habits to Lieutenant Nayar.

“I don’t think he realizes how bad that is,” Demodus said. “Given that he doesn’t need to eat.”

“I suppose,” Azune said. In general, he seemed a very kind man, if slightly terrifying in battle, but this seemed like something he wasn't willing to be charitable about. He sighed and rubbed his hands across his face. Demodus would have worried about him getting grease from his sandwich on his face if he hadn't watched the man apparently instinctively lick his fingers and wipe them on a napkin first. 

“I'm sorry you had to deal with that. I should have checked in better, that first night. I heard Bolaire say something about vermin in the apartment but I thought he was joking.”

“I think he was. About that, at least. I haven't seen any mice, and Figment has dealt with the flies.” At that, Azune just looked more distressed. “I mean it. If I have nothing to apologize for, neither do you. It sounds like you had no idea his apartment was like that, and even if you had, that's not your responsibility.”

“...I guess.” Azune trailed off as he continued eating his sandwich, more slowly than before but still clearly intending to finish the whole thing. Demodus's soup had cooled enough to eat while they talked, so he dug in too. It was good, but thicker and richer than he'd been expecting, and he instantly wished he'd gotten half a sandwich instead. If he didn't finish that, he could have taken it back to Bolaire’s apartment to finish later. The same could not be said for soup. Maybe Azune would want it? He was already most of the way through his sandwich.

“Sorry, um, I'm not being a great conversationalist, am I?” Azune said after a minute. “Usually Murray just starts talking and assumes I'm listening even when I'm quiet. Which I am. Listening, I mean.”

“I didn't think you wouldn't be,” Demodus tried to reassure him. “I guess I just have less to say than I thought? I mean, since I haven't been doing anything the past week. Just… reading and puttering around. Bolaire started getting me more books from the library when he has time after I told him I'd already read everything in his apartment.”

“What have you been reading about?” Azune asked. He seemed very glad to have a direction to steer the conversation in that wasn't about the other contents of Bolaire's apartment.

“History, mostly. Figment likes architecture though. I didn't know how related those two things were until this week. Yesterday Bolaire brought me a built history of Dol-Makjar and it turns out the way they built the plumbing system here is actually really interesting.”

Azune let Demodus ramble on, occasionally asking clarifying questions as they both finished their meals. The soup cup wasn't as big as it looked at first, so Demodus was able to finish his meal. It left him uncomfortably but not painfully full, but that was better than trying to decide if it would be more rude to leave a few bites or offer them to Azune.

“I should let you get back to work,” Demodus said as they cleared the table. “Thank you for this, really. It was nice. If you're in the neighborhood again sometime maybe we could do it again? And I'll pay this time!”

“Okay. That would be fun,” Azune agreed with a small but genuine-looking smile. He walked Demodus back to Bolaire’s front door this time, helping him with the handle. If it wasn't likely to draw attention to the fact that Bolaire had a gnome staying with him, he'd ask him to get a step stool. 

Well, perhaps he'd take the time he had plenty of to work on making his casting of Mage Hand more subtle. And maybe he'd also work up the courage to talk to Bolaire about the food waste actually being a problem, even though he claimed at first it wasn't.

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