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There’s a knock on the door that Alhaitham hesitates to answer. It’s the weekend, he’s not expecting anyone, and Kaveh most likely isn’t expecting anything or anyone either with how he’s been keeping his living arrangements a secret.
Another knock disturbs the peace of his Saturday morning, and with a sigh he opens the door.
“Good morning,” A small, gentle voice greets him. “My name is Nahida, and I’ve been sent by Celestia to help you find love.”
If Alhaitham hadn’t glanced down, he would have not seen who his visitor is. True enough, his archon stands smiling before him, but he is still yet to understand why she’s really at his doorstep.
“Lesser Lord Kusanali,” Alhaitham greets, “how may I help you.”
“You’re mistaken.” The little lord puts a hand above her heart. “It is I who is tasked to help you.”
He recalls her words from earlier, something about being sent by the heavens to find…love?
“Nahida.” Alhaitham switches to a more familiar form of address, one that visibly pleases the Dendro archon, but it doesn’t mean that he’s agreed to be part of her whims today. So he asks again, hoping to receive a different answer. “How may I really help you.”
There’s a childish glee that resonates from her whole being, tiny that she is, as she doesn’t mind repeating herself to explain why she’s come.
“It is I, Nahida, who shall help you.” She says, resolutely. “And I shall help you find love, with the best of my abilities.”
Such a weird sight they make, and Alhaitham feels like he’s dealing with those pesky door-to-door merchants adamant on selling him new carpets every week. It is a blessing that Kaveh finds those carpets mediocre, else their home would have been filled with them.
Nahida smiles patiently at him and it truly does make Alhaitham wonder if he’s the one being unreasonable between the two of them, with how he honestly wishes for her to go bother someone else.
Still, he is not without his manners and he is not without respect for his archon, so he steps aside and opens that door wider.
“Please come in.” He offers, albeit with a heavy heart, and if Nahida is aware of this (he has a suspicion that she is), she makes no show of it.
Her eyes peruse their home in wonder as she makes her way to divan, across where Alhaitham has been busy doing nothing but relaxing with a well worn book. There is a calm that comes with getting acquainted with something that’s already familiar to him, where he doesn’t need to know what is to happen next or to come up with his own answers from a newly presented problem.
He sits and offers the fruits he’s peeled for Kaveh on the table, but the archon politely declines. Right, she is not here to catch up and relax, like Alhaitham. She is here to rope him into one of her wonderings, unfortunately.
“I’m not in need of such service, Nahida.” Alhaitham says, straightforward as always. That her smile stays kind and unwavering, and yet secretive at the same time with how her lips stretch up a tad bit, tells Alhaitham that she has no interest in revealing anything; the truth behind her visit, the truth behind choosing him of all people to partake, and the truth that she is actually seeking.
It is then that his roommate, Kaveh, chooses to finally emerge from his room after hours of hunching over his blueprints. If he is to complain about the pain in his back yet again, Alhaitham is ever ready to waste his breath about minding his posture. The blond architect pads barefoot towards the living room with a stretch, thin shirt riding up to reveal an expanse of skin.
Such obvious display of comfort that he’s yet to mind how at home he looks shows how he hasn’t noticed their visitor yet.
“Haithaam,” Kaveh drawls mid-stretch, eyes unfocused still after staring at his blueprints for hours. “did you get me those peaches?”
“I did.” Alhaitham answers, looking at the other over his shoulder. If his eyes linger for long somewhere on Kaveh’s form, that is no one’s business. “But you’ve taken so long that the fruit flies have beaten you to them.”
“Fruit flies?” Kaveh gasps, cutting his stretches, “impossible! There can’t be fruit flies here when I’ve so painstakingly cleaned–”
There’s an abrupt pause the second Kaveh realizes they have company, and Alhaitham delights on his roommate’s panic-stricken face upon discovering that today’s visitor is not just any person.
“L-Lesser Lord Kusanali! W-what–”
“Good morning, Kaveh.” Nahida greets with a wave. There’s an obvious amusement on her face, one that Alhaitham mirrors as Kaveh tries to pull his shirt down to hide his stomach. “I’m sorry for intruding. I simply wish to discuss some things with Alhaitham.”
“O-oh. Of course! Um,” Kaveh’s eyes quickly sweep around their house to spot anything amiss, and when he glances at the table, he sees his Zaytun peaches already cut and prepared. Nothing else. “It’s so early in the morning, have you had your breakfast?”
“Breakfast? I haven’t.” She answers honestly, but though she means to say that there’s hardly any need for it and that she rarely indulges in such meals, Kaveh looks aghast upon hearing this.
“Then let me whip up something quick.” He says. Before Nahida could tell him that it’s okay for him not to prepare anything, Kaveh’s already rushing towards the kitchen, but not without shooting Alhaitham a disbelieving look, silently mouthing words of accusation to which the scribe merely answers with a shrug and a feigned expression of defensiveness, eyebrows shooting up.
It’s the most reactive Nahida’s seen Alhaitham. Her eyes not missing the smirk that follows when Kaveh throws him an angry look before disappearing entirely from their sight.
“I’ve changed my mind, it would seem that what you said is true.” The archon tells him after, snapping Alhaitham from the distracting thoughts that seem to linger in his mind as his eyes are yet to leave the spot where Kaveh’s disappeared to. “You do not require my services.”
Alhaitham has a suspicious feeling about this change of heart, but he is happy to hear it nonetheless. Still, he dares not get his hopes up for there is still that glint in Nahida’s eyes that tells him this ordeal has not been swept under the rug yet.
“It is now I who require your services, is the offer to help still on the table?”
“Yes,” Ah, he’s right, but now he can be in control of things and perhaps, bargain with her demands if they are too much. “However, unless it is a life or death situation, it would have to be during my office hours.”
Whether what she wants has something to do with the betterment of Sumeru, or just to satisfy her own curiosities, Alhaitham wouldn’t mind, in all honesty, as long as it does not hinder his rest days.
Blessedly, his answer seems acceptable enough as Nahida nods and giggles.
“Of course, Scribe Alhaitham.” Her legs sway back and fort from where they dangle on the divan’s edge. “I can see that I’ve bothered you enough for today. Rest assured it won’t happen again.”
That’s good to hear, but the nagging feeling at the back of his mind does not abate. There’s more to her relenting this easily, and he knows that if Nahida really desires for something, she would not hesitate to engage with Alhaitham in a battle of wits.
“May I know what it is you need help with?” He can’t help but ask.
“I wish to understand,” She begins, a fond look in her eyes. “how do you love, Alhaitham?”
Maybe there are a hundred ways to interpret that question, or maybe Nahida simply wants to know, objectively, how it is to express one’s love for something or someone. Nevertheless, compared to her little mission from earlier, this request feels more personal that it is confounding, leaving him to stir in his thoughts in silence, long enough for Kaveh to appear with a plate of flat bread, jam, and honey.
It speaks volumes that Nahida doesn’t elaborate on the matter. But he knows that she is aware of how she’s sent his thoughts into disorder.
+++
Alhaitham half expects to see the little archon already in his office when he arrives. Her absence so early in the day brings him relief as it lets him focus on finishing his tasks, as it honestly only takes him a couple of hours to wrap everything up, then, dedicating the rest of his day to do things for himself. Only Kaveh knows of this strategy of his, pretending only to be busy so people won’t come to bother him and give him extra paperwork.
He defends he’s an efficient worker, and there really is nothing wrong with spending the rest of the day at his leisure when he does get his job done impeccably. Still, no matter how much the architect lectures him about his practice, Kaveh does use Alhaitham’s spare peaceful hours to his advantage as well. He’d lounge in the scribe’s office for a quick reprieve after encountering an art block, or join Alhaitham for a nap when his deadlines suck the energy out of him. So really, the blond has no right to complain, especially when there’s now a ready blanket on Alhaitham’s office couch that smells very much like the architect’s perfume.
When Nahida comes knocking at his office minutes after he’s signed the last document for the day, it is obvious that Kaveh’s not the only one who’s aware of his efficiency tactic.
“Good morning, Scribe Alhaitham. How was work?” She paces over to his table, the top of her head the only thing he can see from where he’s seated.
“The same as always.” He answers, closing a folder and setting it aside. His limited view of Nahida brings about a wacky way of conversing, so he kindly gestures toward the couch where she could settle. It’s not too far from his desk as it has always been meant to be for visitors who’d come in for consultations, and not to be Kaveh’s bed.
“How do you plan to do this, Nahida?” Alhaitham asks when she’s successfully hopped on the couch.
“Hm, I think you’ll be happy to know that I simply plan to observe you as you go about your day.” She places a finger near the corner of her lips, a habit she’s acquired when she’s thinking. “So really, I won’t be bothering you as much as you would think.”
Hearing this, Alhaitham sighs.
“If that’s your plan, then I ought to tell you now that you should switch subjects.” He goes through his plans for the day, which consists only of two: to go visit the House of Daena and return the books he’s borrowed (Kaveh would keep nagging at him otherwise), and to borrow a new batch of books (that Kaveh will surely still nag about because he’s basically just replacing the clutter in their house with new ones instead of diminishing it).
Basically, his day is bound to go uneventfully, just how he likes it, but then it would be of no help to Nahida. Not that, should anything thrilling happen such as another coup, it would be able to bring about the answers she’s looking for.
“You should know that I’m not the best candidate for this.” Alhaitham tells her. “If you wish to understand how to express love, passionate people such as Kaveh and Nilou would give you much desirable results compared to me, if I could even give you anything useful at all.”
Nahida shakes her head, disagreeing, but she doesn’t say anything to defend her choice.
“I promise I won’t be a bother, Alhaitham.” Is what she says, as if she’s not heard his suggestions. She looks steadfast with her decisions, and so the scribe could only nod his head, understanding that trying to convince her would only be a waste of time and effort.
Just as she’s promised, Nahida tries her best to blend in the background and make Alhaitham forget she’s even around at all. However, she’s failed to mention that she plans to possess random scholars within Alhaitham’s near vicinity instead of physically tailing him around the Akademiya.
He appreciates the effort, truly, but it’s not exactly a relaxing experience to have people you don’t know stare at you so intently. Knowing that Nahida temporarily resides in their heads doesn’t give him much comfort.
It feels like he’s under surveillance for crimes he hasn’t committed.
“I would rather you stand beside me and make small talk rather than doing whatever it is you’re doing.” Alhaitham says, just loud enough for Nahida, who is now in the body of a studying Amurta scholar behind him, to hear.
“You don’t like small talk.”
“It’s not small talk.” Alhaitham continues to browse through the books he’s planning to bring home. A pile rests on the table adjacent to where Nahida’s sitting. “I still am curious about how doing this is helping your resea—ah.“
The interruption compels Nahida— still in occupance of another’s body— to turn around and peer over what’s taken Alhaitham’s attention. In his hands she finds a piece of paper with essay-like notes front and back, which he’s found inserted in between the pages. A closer look and she comprehends that these are extensions of an annotation, further explaining, or rather, opposing a specific text.
Alhaitham flips the page, finishes reading the note, and hums before he’s bringing out a pen and a small sheet from his pocket. Nahida catches a glimpse of a list—oil, chili, sugar, Zaytun peaches— before Alhaitham turns it to write on the other side that’s blank.
What he writes is quite short, a simple counter argument, before he inserts it on the page together with the long note he’s found. Then he closes the book and sets it apart from those that he wishes to bring home.
“May I ask what that was?” Nahida asks when she’s sure that Alhaitham’s done.
“Some questions that Kaveh should reflect on.”
“Kaveh?”
“That long note,” The scribe glances at the book again, the thin sheets he’s placed peeking from in between the pages. “they’re in his handwriting.”
“Oh.” Nahida fixes her gaze on him. “And do you reckon he’ll know that the response is from you?”
“Of course.”
“Will he even see it?”
“Eventually.” His answers are with hundred percent certainty, a confidence that the archon takes note of. There’s a barely noticeable upturn of his lips, a hint of anticipation in them, like Alhaitham couldn’t wait for Kaveh to discover his response. Like it’s a game, a treasure hunt, a fixed outcome that’s been marked with absoluteness by fate. There is no room for doubt, that Kaveh will find Alhaitham just as how he has found Kaveh…’s notes, that is.
Nahida smiles but Alhaitham doesn’t see it, for he’s already moved on to the next book, hands skimming through the pages quickly as if waiting for another sheet to flutter like a wayward leaf from a tree branch.
She decides to let him be, foreseeing the idle hours to come of Alhaitham doing nothing but these: perusing books and scribbling responses to certain annotations from time to time as if they are secret missives. Indeed uneventful, just like the expectations he’s set, but for Nahida who now does not shy away and instead takes the seat beside the scribe, so far, things have been insightful.
Later, when they leave and Nahida vacates the Amurta scholar’s mind, said scholar’s friends would come to flock around and pester him about hiding how he’s acquaintances with the elusive scribe all this time, although he has no recollection of ever speaking with the man.
A good bundle of four books is cradled in Alahitham’s arms as they walk back to his office, mission already accomplished. They spend the entire walk in silence, a comfortable one that doesn’t call for small talk. He takes deliberate short strides in consideration of his archon’s tiny feet, but slow as they are, they make it there eventually.
When Alhaitham opens the door, he pauses on his tracks, and Nahida peeks past his legs to see his couch occupied. She sees a figure lying down on his side, back against them. The ends of a red cape hangs over the edge of the couch, almost touching the floor. White shoes neatly arranged below it.
It’s Alhaitham’s roommate, Kaveh, so deep in his slumber that he fails to notice their return. Alhaitham gently closes the door behind him then marches to his desk to put the books down soundlessly. Nahida has nowhere to sit now, but she doesn’t really mind, especially when granted such a pleasant discovery.
“You must excuse my roommate,” Alhaitham says as he pads over to the architect, voice dipping low from his usual volume. “He likes to treat this place like a personal cradle whenever sleep fancies him.”
Nahida hums, thinking that ultimately, it’s because Alhaitham lets him, but she chooses to zip her lips shut and observe in silence.
The blanket that’s neatly folded and slung over the couch’s armrest is spread carefully so Alhaitham may drape it over the blond; the soft fabric hiding him up to his shoulders and down to his cold, bare feet. The scribe takes a few moments to examine his work, see if Kaveh’s all covered, and if Nahida’s taken this chance to read his thoughts she’d discover plans of procuring a throw pillow.
“It is up to you if you still wish to stay,” Alhaitham tells her then after he’s satisfied with his work. “I only have an hour left until my shift ends, and I’ll only be waking Kaveh when it is time to leave. From here on, there’s nothing much I’ll be doing than rewrite our grocery list and read the books I’ve gathered until I clock out.”
“Grocery list?”
“Yes. I’ve lost mine earlier.” The explanation is unnecessary for Nahida knows exactly what has happened to that old list of his. “Although I do have everything memorized, Kaveh’s needs a physical reminder to avoid getting things that’s not in our list.”
She still wears a thoughtful expression as she digests this information, eyes trained on Kaveh’s back. It is the delayed response that compels Alhaitham to ask her if she wishes to come with them, as it is but a quick trip. He’ll make sure of it. But Nahida shakes her head.
“I promised to bother you only during your work hours.” She declines, content with what she has gathered for the day. “Besides, I think I’ve seen plenty enough for today. I’ll let you go now, Scribe Alhaitham, but I’ll still visit tomorrow if that’s fine?” Alhaitham nods, making her smile wider. “Thank you, then, and have fun shopping.”
She doesn’t wait for Alhaitham’s reply as she turns for the door. But at the last moment before she closes it behind her, Nahida indulges herself with one last glance, a peek through the narrow space, to see Alhaitham lift Kaveh’s head effortlessly as he takes a seat on the couch. His lap becomes the architect’s pillow, and his fingers playing with the silky strands of hair further lulls the other to sleep.
And Nahida confirms her suspicion, as Alhaitham’s eyes stare at an open book in his hand while his mind strays with thoughts of not needing to purchase throw pillows anymore.
+++
Nahida comes a little past lunch and sees Alhaitham snacking on Candied Ajilenakh Nuts and a cup of steamy coffee. When he sees her, the scribe reaches for a container wrapped meticulously and elegantly with a nice-looking cloth. The only greeting she gets is a nod, before Alhaitham is standing up to place the snack on the small, round table by the couch as she settles.
“Kaveh made them this morning,” Nahida watches with wonder as Alhaitham reveals more of the dessert, “these are for you.”
“He knows of my visit?”
“I told him, yes, then insisted on hastily making extras.” Alhaitham confirms before going back to his desk to finish his own snacks. “However, I didn’t mention what it is you’re trying to find answers to. He didn’t ask, but had assumed that I’m giving you a hard time because I’m, apparently, a lousy host.”
And apparently, Alhaitham, too, is a talkative person when he tells of his roommate. There is no offense in his words though, the archon observes, only fond exasperation before he takes another bite and then cleanses his palette with coffee.
“I do hope you enjoy them, for the sake of Kaveh’s sanity.”
At this, Nahida giggles and decides to try the candied dessert out. “I would surely love it,” She says, and while there’s not a lot one can tell from Alhaitham’s inexpressive features, she’s learned to understand his silences enough to know that he’s pleased and that he agrees with her answer. He doesn’t even wait to see her reaction upon tasting the delicacy, confident that it would taste divine and to her liking.
Her eye catches more empty containers on Alhaitham’s desk, which is void of any papers and books to avoid being stained. He has just finished taking his lunch, apparently, and now simply delights with the candied Ajilenakh Nuts prepared by his roommate.
“I suppose I shall try to find him later to thank him then.”
“He’s not here. He’s gone out on an excursion near Gandharva Ville.” Alhaitham informs her. “It’s why he hasn’t joined me for lunch.”
“Ah,” Nahida pauses and looks at Alhaitham, trying to see if she’s imagined him sounding forlorn. As usual, nothing betrays his face, but the little archon has realized recently that relying only on his facial expressions would not garner her anything. So she takes note of how he instead stares at the last piece of his food as he chews slowly, like he’s delaying things, refusing to finish it all just yet. “I see.”
It takes Nahida eating two more pieces from her plate before Alhaitham finally empties his own.
She thanks him for the food and asks him to tell Kaveh that she had loved it, and that perhaps the architect can join them next time. Alhaitham responds positively to this as he collects the emptied containers with an affirmative, that yes he’ll let Kaveh know and that Nahida should brace herself for an extravagant selection of desserts for the blonde also loves to showcase his artistry to food as well. Alhaitham then very briefly tells him of Kaveh’s excessively decorated Fatteh.
“It’s a pain to eat.” He complains half heartedly, and throughout it all Nahida just nods and tries her best to sympathize with his plight. Alhaitham informs her after that he’s got nothing planned for the rest of the day, not even to scour the library for more books. So, she may want to rethink her visit today, or perhaps use this time to her advantage, to discuss something else or ask questions about this mission of hers, and he’ll answer to the best of his abilities.
“Nilou is dutiful in practicing for her performances, perfecting every step.” Alhaitham shares the little information he knows about the dancer’s efforts for every show, for starters. However, Nahida shakes her head.
“But those are not the answers I seek, Alhaitham.” Nahida explains kindly. “It’s not the unquestionable passion for one’s craft, and if you are about to use your roommate as an example for compassion, that still is far from what I wish to know.” She looks up at the ceiling, thinking how to articulate her thoughts in a way that Alhaitham would understand the very essence of why she’s doing this.
“Let’s just say that you express love differently and it intrigues me.” Is the answer she settles with.
“Do you mean to say that I express it dispassionately, and that the contradiction got you questioning the concept?” Alhaitham leans back against his chair. He finds no offense to it, even if what he’s guessed is true.
“That’s not it either. Your lack of fanfare doesn’t cancel out your commitment to the things you value, such as your job as a scribe and the comfort you find in your daily routines.” The peaceful life he wishes to protect that’s motivated him to lead Nahida’s rescue goes unsaid, but Alhaitham catches on all the same. “I appreciate you trying to help me, but I’m afraid that your examples would drift us further away from what I really am trying to understand. You know, now that I think about it, the thoughts that have led me to you are quite shallow and childish. I’ll just see it through the end anyway, now that I’m already here.”
It’s obvious by the furrow on Alhaitham’s brow how she’s confused him further, but whatever discussion they might’ve had to dissect Nahida’s thought process is interrupted by a knock on the door. The scribe looks at her for permission, if it’s alright for someone to enter the room to possibly discuss things with him at length.
“Enter.” Alhaitham calls as soon as she gives a thumbs up. Momentarily, so as not to be a distraction, Nahida hides her presence when a scholar from Kshahrewar enters and walks briskly towards the table.
“Sir scribe, if you could sign these please.” The woman presents several copies of a dispatch permit for Gandharva Ville, which Alhaitham quickly scans as she explains what it’s for. “We need to send additional Kshahrewar scholars to the site. Here’s a list of names for your record. I need you sir to sign here,” She points at his name written below the page along with several other authorities who have already affixed their signatures. She then pulls out a page and separates it from the others. “and then this one is your copy, for the archives. ”
“Why do you need more people?” Alhaitham catches information about a ruin machine’s awakening. “What happened?
“They unexpectedly found an active ruin machine in the area, sir.” She answers, fidgeting on her feet as she watches Alhaitham sign the copies. “They were able to shut it down, but unfortunately, its sudden attacks caused some parts of the old buildings there to collapse, which injured many of ours.”
“Is this the project that’s under the supervision of the Master Architect?”
“Yes, sir.” She confirms. “In fact, I’ve heard he’s also taken a hit, and that’s why many of us are being dispatched to fill in for him.”
Sending a group of handpicked Kshahrewar scholars in an attempt to match Kaveh’s genius. If it were another day, Alhaitham would’ve used this to tease the blond, but the news has him signing the permits with urgency before he, too, is standing up as he hands the documents back to her.
“I see. You may go now.” He dismisses her. As soon as she’s gone, Nahida appears again with worry etched on her face. “I’m sorry but we’ll have to continue another day. An urgent matter requires my attention.”
“I heard everything. I’m coming with you.” Alhaitham simply nods at this as he grabs the key to his office before marching out. Nothing else is said, and Nahida simply disappears again in thin air, a conscious decision so as not to trouble the scribe with how she’ll be traveling with him.
+++
There’s a flurry of activity when Alhaitham reaches the site. Scholars and medics walking around everywhere with urgency, medical kits and other supplies in their arms. He also sees some people from Bimarstan already there, aiding in giving medical attention to those who have been hit by the collapsed building.
“No one seems to be gravely injured.” A woman’s voice echoes from behind him and Alhaitham turns to see a Kshahrewar student approaching. Immediately, he knows it’s Nahida, and thus her words bring him a little bit of relief, although his worry not entirely dissipating as he’s yet to see Kaveh in the crowd.
“I’m looking for Kaveh.” He asks a passing scholar.
“Oh, Sir Scribe!” The man startles from his reverie. “Master Kaveh’s resting in his tent. Are you here for the reports?”
“No.” Alhaitham answers curtly, stares intensely at the other, and doesn’t elaborate. When nothing else is said and the scholar figures that the scribe won’t tolerate to be stalled for another second whilst not repeating himself, he points at the direction of Kaveh’s tent.
“He’s over there, sir.” He tells Alhaitham, and from being flustered by his earlier silence, the man impulsively adds, “Um, besides hurting his ankle, he’s all over fine… or at least that’s what he insists. We tried giving him aid but he says there are others who are more injured, and well he’s not wrong but—eh?”
“Thank you.” It’s Nahida who expresses this gratitude as Alhaitham speedwalks instantly toward the small tent that indeed seems to be the only one without medics going in and out despite having an injured patient inside. His impatience leaves the scholar bewildered, but Nahida who’s in the body of a familiar face reassures him back to his duties and not mind the scribe too much. He’s done nothing wrong.
Alhaitham enters the tent without preamble, and its lone occupant jerks in surprise. True enough, Kaveh looks like he’s refused any further help for Alhaitham sees him holding a bag of mist flower corollas on his swollen ankle, and a bandage at the ready on the blonde’s side which he plans to put on himself.
“H-Haitham!? What are you doing here?” Kaveh’s eyes are wide and questioning, but instead of answering, his roommate simply walks over to his bedside and sits on a low stool. Alhaitham reaches to take Kaveh’s foot, but this only makes the architect try to maneuver it away. The sudden movement, however, causes him pain that makes him wince and stop his movements. And Alhaitham clicks his tongue in annoyance before reaching for his foot again.
This time, he successfully places Kaveh’s injured foot on his lap, the angry red of swollen skin making him shake his head. He takes over the task of putting cold compress on it, gently pressing the icy corolla over the injury.
“Y-you don’t have to—“ Kaveh starts but Alhaitham shoots him a look that shuts him up effectively, although perhaps if he were not in pain, he would have tried to resist a little bit more. Instead, he purses his lips and sulks quietly, even as Alhaitham starts to bandage his ankle.
Nahida finds them like this, Alhaitham silently scrutinizing a reluctant, injured architect, sharp eyes searching for other signs of harm: a cut on unblemished skin, a small tear on his shirt, small bruises about to blossom into angry purple marks on his arms, hidden by his long sleeves. Alhaitham’s hand holds his chin and tilts his head from side to side, pats and pokes him all over, trying to find any pain that Kaveh could be hiding. Fortunately, he hasn’t found anything alarming yet, but Kaveh doesn’t seem too appreciative of being examined so closely like this.
“I’m fine.” The blond takes hold of the scribe’s wrist and pushes the prodding hand away. This earns him a scowl.
“You’re always fine.” Alhaitham points out his roommate’s favorite lie, voice dripping with sarcasm. It’s obviously not the first time they’ve had this kind of argument, and it’s also obvious how they will never tire of it until one relents.
“Haitham.”
“Kaveh.” He bites, steely. “Why is it that you’re allowed to fuss over me but I’m not allowed to worry about you?” There’s an imperceptible edge in Alhaitham’s voice, but one look at Kaveh lets Nahida confirm that the scribe is indeed vexed.
It’s when she decides to intervene, preventing their argument from further escalating. She purposefully makes a noise with an acceptably loud step, enough for them to notice her presence. Kaveh, at first looks at her with familiarity that’s meant for the scholar she’s temporarily occupying, but Alhaitham greets her with her name, revealing who she really is. At this, Kaveh looks panicked and a little embarrassed, knowing that she’s seen them arguing.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve called for the doctor.”
“Eh?” She doesn’t know how it’s still possible for him to look more surprised than he already is, but Kaveh makes it happen. His eyes, wide, darts at the entrance of the tent just in time when the doctor steps in.
Alhaitham then shoots him a look, a raised brow, silently asking him if he really dares to deny the Dendro Archon’s graces, wasting her efforts. So Kaveh zips his lips and quietly accepts his fate.
“It’s just to give you a clear if you can go now.” The doctor explains. She smiles reassuringly, as if knowing of Kaveh’s worries. Her hands carefully examine the bandage that Alhaitham’s made and hums approvingly. “You’ve done a great job, Sir Scribe. If I had known that you’d be the only person who can make him accept help, I would’ve sent for you. Maybe next time though, I hope you wouldn’t mind.”
That she confidently says there’s a next time causes Alhaitham’s scowl to deepen. But he gives his word, still, because the truth is that he’s just as certain as the doctor that Kaveh will throw himself into trouble again like he’s addicted to it.
“I don’t. Please call for me, then.” He commits.
“I’m happy to hear that.” She comments, and to Kaveh, she says, “Please do take care of yourself, Master Architect. While we’re glad that you’ve managed to save Daya, it also breaks our hearts to see you get hurt. Please don’t jump into harm’s way so readily next time.”
Throughout her speech, Kaveh tries and fails to stop her from speaking. Already used to his antics as the doctor that’s always sent for faraway Akademiya projects, she ignores his gestures and pleading eyes. From the corner where Nahida’s observing quietly, the annoyance in the scribe’s form has been renewed. He doesn’t shoot Kaveh a look this time, but he does take a deep breath in as his suspicions about how Kaveh might’ve really gotten hurt are confirmed.
“Can I take him home now?” Alhaitham asks and Kaveh quickly jumps in, defensively.
“To my house.” He clears. “He means, take me to my house.”
“Of course. Where else would I take you?”
Kaveh ignores him.
The doctor thankfully is no stranger to their banters, so she simply smiles and gives the go signal before leaving. When she exits the tent, the roommates engage in another staring contest. It seems that they can fight even without opening their mouths, an amusing sight really for Nahida. Predictably, it’s Kaveh who breaks it first, and Alhaitham looks pleased with himself, albeit still frowning.
“Come, let’s go home.” Despite being in disagreement, they move around each other so easily and naturally. Alhaitham crouches by the bed again, this time with his back against Kaveh instead of facing him, and the architect slithers easily to him, attaching himself to Alhaitham with his arms around his neck and legs around the other’s hips. And Alhaitham’s hands support him securely, carrying Kaveh like he weighs nothing.
“I’m really sorry for our behavior, Lesser Lord Kusanali.” Kaveh takes the chance to apologize as soon as they face her. Alhaitham mutters “I’m not.” and Kaveh pulls on his junior’s hair, a signal to shut his mouth if he’s got nothing good to say.
“There’s nothing to apologize for, Kaveh. I’m glad you’re safe.” Then, suddenly remembering, “I also wanted to come to thank you for the candied Ajilenakh Nuts earlier. They were fantastic.”
“Oh!” Kaveh cheers up when he hears this. “I can make more if you like! Will you be coming home with us?”
“How can you possibly cook in your state?”
“My hands are working just fine, Haitham.”
“We both know how you flutter about in the kitchen when you cook.”
“Then I’ll just sit down and you get the things I need for me!” Kaveh pulls on the cord of Alhaitham’s headphones this time, and the man’s head tilts a little, following the force. “Honestly! Must you be this insufferable in front of our archon?”
“Must ‘you’ be this insufferable in front of our archon?”
They lose themselves in their banters again, all while Alhaitham heads out from the tent. His quips distract Kaveh, both from the archon’s presence, the pain in his ankle, and the stares from the other scholars who, while used to their arguments and complicated closeness, still find them quite a spectacle and their verbal matches entertaining. Thinking about it, arguing with Kaveh might be something that the scribe intentionally does, knowing how he’ll get embarrassed at being carried by the scribe, a man he supposedly can’t stand but apparently knows where he lives. What kind of image does that give to others?
There’s a suitcase in Alhaitham’s hand, Nahida notices as he does a little bounce to hoist Kaveh up again when the blonde almost slips off from how animated he is while conversing.
Kaveh, bless his heart, puts a conscious effort in pulling Nahida into their conversation even though she’s wholly content watching them. But Alhaitham would sooner say something smart and Kaveh’s on fire again.
It’s amazing how they hadn’t stopped until they’ve reached their house. Besides the comical way Kaveh did a second look at her upon realizing she’s left her host and now back to her usual small figure, nothing much of note has happened. The sun is already beginning to set when they arrive at their doorstep, marking how Alhaitham’s work hours have jus ended. But it’s the scribe who invites Nahida inside, even without Kaveh telling him to.
“You can wait for me here. I’ll just bring him to his room.”
“Oi, I can walk there.” Kaveh taps Alhaitham’s cheeks, trying to make him listen, but his roommate is making a turn to his room anyway. “Haitham! I promised to make more desserts!”
“You can make as many as you like once you’re well.”
“I am well!”
It’s the budding of another argument and Nahida takes pity on Alhaitham this time, so she steps in.
“I’d feel bad for having you make them while in that state, Master Kaveh.” Nahida musters a frown, one that she knows would grip the architect’s heart.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about me, Lord Kusanali.”
“But we’ll worry nonetheless, no matter how healthy you claim to be.” She casts a look at Alhaitham. “Rainfall doesn’t stop falling even when the rivers and seas are already full, after all.”
It’s a weird analogy that Kaveh tries to make sense of, and in his thinking and confusion, they earn his silence and lack of protest.
“But I’m excited for next time.” It’s a genuine promise that has Kaveh giving up entirely.
“Yes, definitely.” Kaveh smiles, the beginnings of weariness already catching up to him now. “And I’ll prepare more. If you have any favorites, I’ll make them.”
“I’ll think about it and let Alhaitham know.”
It’s only when his roommate nods, acquiescing, that Kaveh feels truly, fully satisfied. Alhaitham feels the way the injured man slackens and takes it as a sign that it’s okay to bring him to his room now. Kaveh bids Nahida goodbye, and when the two men have their backs turned against her, she finds herself once more sitting on the same spot as her first visit in their home.
From where she sits, she hears murmurs as Alhaitham doesn’t kick Kaveh’s bedroom door close. The distance makes their words unintelligible, but Nahida can make a little from their hushed voice. Of Alhaitham’s impossible talent at combining gentleness with sternness, and of Kaveh’s tired, understanding, guilty responses. Of apologies and promises and reassurances in between.
Not a whole sentence makes it to her ears but she deems the moment too tender and private to be shared with anyone, even in their vagueness. It’s what pushes the tiny archon to venture to the other side of the house, another open door that this time leads to the two’s shared office.
Oh how a space, even in its stillness, can exude love in all its corners. It’s the pair of seat cushions on a too-small bench by the table against the window, and the few books, fruits, and used coffee mill that rests on it. It’s the aesthetic fruit peeler that stands out on an otherwise busy work desk, and the Kamera standing at a strategic corner of the room where it can capture everything.
“What a day,” Nahida turns, smiling at Alhaitham who now stands by the threshold. “How is Kaveh?”
“He’ll fall asleep soon,” He exhales, more from relief instead of exhaustion. “He’ll fall asleep to the variety of food he’s listing in his head for your next visit.”
Nahida giggles at this. Her heart feels full, touched by such efforts and anticipating the day they’d have the chance to meet again once Kaveh’s foot has healed. As she hums in contemplation, Alhaitham leans against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and lets her be, patiently waiting to organize the thoughts that are obviously still in knots in her head.
But it doesn’t take long before she’s smiling at him again.
“So, this is how you love, Alhaitham.” She says, reaching a verdict, and when he hums questioningly, she gladly explains.
When she had asked Alhaitham, “how do you love?” she hadn’t meant for a step-by-step guide on how to show affections for another. If that was what Nahida’s after, Sumeru is not short on friends and families, or courting couples and passionate lovers. Going by the book, it is easy to show affection through a bouquet of flowers or a basket of fruits, to sing songs that channel the language of the heart, or to go on early morning strolls and late night walks down the port.
“I’m not as I was before; the great god that the old sages sought. I’ve always admired her, the Greater Lord, but after further reflection of what’s happened so far, on how I’ve dealt with problems, on what I plan to do if Sumeru faces another crisis, it dawns on me that I sacrifice myself so readily, both the great lord that I once was, and the me that stands before you now.”
“I just… twice I’ve decided to sacrifice myself; the second time is an event that the traveler has witnessed. And they’ve reprimanded me, in their own, forgiving way, of course. It’s made me think about how the Scarlet Swayshrooms are admirably more steadfast than I, dealing with perilous winds and yet they never get uprooted.”
Then she sighs, dismayed. “It’s quite hypocritical of me, really, to extend any form of reprimand to Kaveh when it would seem that we love so similarly.”
“But you love differently, Alhaitham. You are not the ship that sails but its anchor, not the fishing boats exploring the waters at night but the lighthouse that guides them home. You are the moon that pulls that tides in, the same moon that lights the path in the darkness, all that while it stays up in the sky, unmoving and unwavering.”
From feeling disappointed with herself, she recovers, afire with determination.
“You love with certainty. Your love is sure. Perhaps that is why your love is so dependable unlike mine. I’ve been a nuisance to you for only two days, but this is my takeaway: I want to be there for Sumeru and face its difficulties with the strength of Swayshrooms. And I want to love Sumeru the way you love Kaveh.”
Hearing this, Alhaitham stills. Not because she’s wrong, but to be perceived like this is still profoundly surprising. This speech of hers ends in a way he hasn’t expected, and arrives at a conclusion that’s far from what he thought he’d hear.
Her thesis sounds…acceptable. But Alhaitham would still argue that, even after all this, he stands by his point that he’s still not the best candidate for Nahida’s quest. Because his love is still more rooted to his love of self, and for him, to love the self means to seek things that would make his life peaceful, pursuing his own comfort and happiness. It just so happens that Sumeru’s governance would impact it, propelling him to take matters in his own hands. It also just so happens that peace, comfort, and happiness means having Kaveh in his life.
On second thought, maybe it is what Nahida needs: a little selfishness, to do things for her own peace of mind, to find ways where she could enjoy the fruits of her labor and bask in the positive results of her efforts. To want the best of both worlds.
So Alhaitham says nothing, neither agreeing or disagreeing. Ah but,
“Then what of you offering to find me love?” He recalls her initial mission, the day she’s knocked on their doorstep. The reminder has Nahida blushing from embarrassment, hand scratching her head.
“Well, that,” She drawls, “it’s an error of judgment. I just assumed there’s no one who has your affections, so I must find you one before I could conduct my observations.”
“But I am happy to be proven wrong.” Nahida adds quickly, as if Alhaitam would feel offended by it.
“Are you satisfied with your findings?” He asks after, already walking away. She skips cheerfully after him toward the living room and they take their previous places as before, across each other on the divan.
“Very much so.” She nods. “I am thankful for your assistance, Scribe Alhaitham.”
Alhaitham smiles back at her. There’s a passing thought of demanding extra pay for it’s already beyond his consultation hours and this should be considered as overtime work. Instead, he reaches for a Zaytun peach and slices it open for Nahida, insisting that Kaveh wants her to have it.