Aimee fingered the pages of the book in her lap, sitting beside Elann on one of the benches as Noah sat on the floor. The Benshira came in for a whisper, something different from their general conversation they were having but a moment earlier. At the Benshira’s questions Aimee looked at Noah searchingly, eventually shaking her head at Elann’s words and smiling, finding humor in the final statement more so than the questions posed.

“Almost no one does,” Aimee said without much worry. “I haven’t seen him sick often but it’s hardly ever serious. This doesn’t look like anything out of an ordinary cold for him. My mother gets them from time to time, but they hardly get sick as it is. My mother just lets him be when he’s sick, as we let her be when she is. As long as he’s not running a fever he’ll be fine. He’ll just need some water and rest, but I doubt he’ll ever lay down unless you make him.” 

Aimee drummed her fingers on the cover of her book. “I wouldn’t worry much about it, Elann. If he wants something from you he’ll come ask for it. He knows you’re there for him, just like he knows I’m there for him too. Probably better to not mention it much. He knows he’s sick, doubtful he wants to be told he’s sick on top of that. He gets kind of testy when he’s not feeling well.”

She spoke rather matter-of-factly and nonchalantly. It wasn’t a big deal in her eyes and Noah wasn’t dying or crippled. She knew he would come and ask for assistance if he felt as if he was being defeated by the illness, and knew better than to poke at him until that point. She showed Elann a little smile and kind eyes, looking down at the necklace tucked into the Benshira’s top.

“Can I see it?” she asked, nodding down towards the golden chain. “I saw it a little bit the day of your wedding but not since, I’m curious.”