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The house is dimmed and quiet until Kaveh bursts through the front door, a veritable explosion of color and energy. He twirls in victory, letting the trailing ends of his scarves whirl around him, before spilling his laden shopping bags out all over the low table to be sorted.
Around sunset, the produce stands in the Grand Bazaar start heavily discounting their perishables, knowing they won't last another market day in the unforgiving Sumerian heat. And discount wine day is practically a holy day for Kaveh. He managed to get a lot for his Mora this time.
Alhaitham emerges from the study with his headphones on, and blinks owlishly at the late daylight pouring unfiltered through the windowpanes. He probably hasn't been outside all day. Alhaitham always keeps the curtains drawn when he's reading so the steady lamp light remains constant and predictable. Kaveh is always uncovering the windows because it's impossible to tell the time in this gloomy eternal darkness, and Alhaitham is going to end up with a vitamin deficiency if he has his way. Really, it's for his own good.
Alhaitham shades his eyes with one hand and squints at Kaveh, who flashes him an unrepentant grin.
“For you,” Kaveh announces, plunking a wrapped container of takeout on the counter for Alhaitham. “Butter chicken and rice, you said you liked it last time! The nice old couple who run the restaurant also sent me off with some poultry that was close to its expiration date, so I was able to feed those feral cats that live in Razan Garden – remember, I showed you the other day how friendly they are? I know a lot of students feed the cats too, so they're hardly starving, but I wanted to share the good fortune with everyone I could!”
“That explains the cat hair all over your lap,” Alhaitham comments mildly. Of course that's the first thing he notices. He's already peeling off the lid of his food and settling on the divan to eat, because Alhaitham has no patience to speak of. “I see you intend to spend all your Interdarshan winnings feeding everyone but yourself. Don't forget you still need to file the Akademiya paperwork for–”
“–Sachin's estate, I know, I know. I'm still researching the cost-benefit analyses of housing, scholarship, and medical funds,” Kaveh grumbles, plopping down beside Alhaitham. He stuffs a piece of naan into his mouth and complains noisily around it, knowing Alhaitham hates it when he talks with his mouth full. “I swear you are just incapable of saying anything pleasant at all. 'Thank you for treating me to dinner, Senior Kaveh! You're so kind and thoughtful, Senior Kaveh! I love you very much, Senior Kaveh!' How hard would it be for you to show some appreciation for your partner once in a while?”
Alhaitham just snorts. He's hardly the most demonstrative partner – he rarely gives voice to his feelings, and even his facial expressions are impassive at best – but there's a gleam of amusement in his eyes, at least. Kaveh will take it.
“Obvious praise kink notwithstanding, you should pay your debts before you start donating everything you own to charity,” Alhaitham states, after properly chewing and swallowing another bite as a good example for Kaveh. “It's not a moral failing to prioritize one's own financial situation before thinking of others. It's basic self-preservation.”
“Stop criticizing everything for once in your life and just let me enjoy my food,” Kaveh snips. He digs his fingernails in and tears off another piece of naan with fierce satisfaction. “Sumeru would be a much better place if it didn't require Mora to function on every level of society. How can anyone just walk past stray cats, or hungry kids, or folks down on their luck just asking for a little help, without caring enough to dip into their own pockets and share what they have? You'd have to be absolutely heartless to say no!”
“That childish naivety and inability to say no is why you get scammed on a regular basis, and I do not,” Alhaitham comments drily, gesturing with a piece of chicken impaled on his fork. “You would even see the good in a Consecrated Scorpion trying to eat you. My point stands.”
“Scorpions are only doing what nature dictates they do,” Kaveh fires back, just to be contrary. “Predators are not inherently evil for hunting in order to survive. I wouldn't vilify any animal for acting on its instincts, and neither would Nari or Cyno, for that matter.”
Alhaitham just shakes his head, unwilling to rise to obvious bait. His intense gaze lingers on some of the supplies strewn all over the table – containers of dried fruits and nuts, strips of jerky, a folded blanket, a new water bottle – and then peers at Kaveh, calculating something he leaves unspoken.
Kaveh meets his eyes with defiance, daring him to ask.
Alhaitham sighs and turns his attention back to his meal.
“No one said it was a perfect system just because Azar was deposed, Kaveh. There's always more work to be done,” Alhaitham finally says. “But it is the society we live in, so awareness of harsh realities lays the foundation to build achievable ideals upon. I would expect an architect of your renown to have a better appreciation of the importance of a strong foundation.”
Kaveh scowls at Alhaitham.
There's a glob of red sauce stuck to Alhaitham's cheek. Kaveh reaches out with his thumb and swipes it away, making Alhaitham blink at him. He's so cute, when he's not being an ass on purpose.
“A boring scribe utterly devoid of artistic sensibilities doesn't get to lecture me about my Darshan,” Kaveh retorts. He jabs a finger at Alhaitham's chest for emphasis, poking the emerald stud of his implant. “Don't make it sound like I'm wasting all my money on frivolity! I just want to make amends where I can, now that I have the means to do so. I like to take care of others. Is that so wrong?”
Alhaitham casts a pointed glance at his butter chicken, then back at Kaveh's earnest expression.
“Buying forgiveness with bribes?” Alhaitham deadpans. “That might work on simple creatures like cats, foxes, and you, but it's going to take a lot more than one entrée to pay off all the ways you've inconvenienced me. It will take at least three.”
Kaveh smacks him on the shoulder.
“You are the bluntest, most self-absorbed person I've ever known,” Kaveh retorts, pressing a quick kiss to Alhaitham's cheek. “If that's your oh-so-subtle way of asking for more of this chicken, I'll see what I can do.”
The humid air of the greenhouse shed out back is thick and sticky against Kaveh's skin, making even his thin shirt cling to him, damp with sweat that will never dry. The redolent perfume is ripe with various manures and other composting organic materials, ranking it as one of Kaveh's least favorite places to visit – except when one of his most favorite people happens to be working there.
Kaveh wraps his arms around Tighnari's waist from behind, and settles the point of his chin on Tighnari's shoulder.
Tighnari is not especially tall nor short, but he's compact in the way archers tend to be built, his back and shoulders corded with hard muscle. Kaveh presses his sweaty chest against Tighnari's steady back, taking advantage of his distraction. It's reassuring to lean against him and feel him not budge an inch from where he stands, reliable as the trunk of a deep-rooted tree.
Tighnari's hands are busy with the mortar and pestle, grinding the aromatic ingredients to Collei's anti-inflammatory poultice, but his bottlebrush tail curls around Kaveh's leg to return the affection.
“Purely out of scientific curiosity, what sort of foods do desert foxes eat in the wild?”
Kaveh's random question sounds innocent enough, but Tighnari is immediately suspicious of him.
“Anything they can find, pretty much,” Tighnari answers warily. His eyes narrow as his ears twitch. “Rodents, birds, insects, lizards, eggs. Henna berries and Ajilenakh nuts, since they're a more reliable source of hydration than finding water. Why do you ask?”
“Don't worry about it,” Kaveh quips.
“Is this about the foxes you met during the Interdarshan competition? I know they're cute, but foxes make godawful pets, Kaveh,” Tighnari warns gently. The rhythmic grinding of the pestle flavors the already-scented air with pungent ginger and turmeric, making Kaveh's nose start to run. “Trust me, before you drag Haitham and the rest of us into that mess. Foxes aren't domesticated the way dogs are, so they'll likely always be skittish, dislike being touched, pee indoors, destroy your furniture, scream at all hours – I could go on, but I think you get the picture. Wild animals belong in the wild.”
“Hey! I wasn't going to catch them and bring them here, I swear,” Kaveh sputters too loudly. Tighnari's ears flick back in obvious annoyance at his volume, making a sheepish Kaveh lower his voice. “I just... wanted to know how they were doing. I feel responsible for them. What sort of hypocrite would I be if I protested the disruption of their natural habitat, and then proceeded to pull them out of said habitat to live with humans?”
“True, you do have stronger principles than average. A lot of people throw those morals out the window as soon as they want something,” Tighnari smiles grimly.
“People really do bring wild animals home? Can't they tell when the animal is unhappy?”
Kaveh's arms hug tighter around Tighnari's waist, pulling him close. If he's grinding the roots into paste with more vengeful force than is necessary, Kaveh won't be the one to tell him so.
“You'd be surprised at all the idiotic justifications I hear when I get called in to deal with someone's pet tiger or Spinocrocodile,” Tighnari complains. He's always happiest when he has something to complain about. Kaveh gets it. “'Oh, but he loves me, he's happier here with me than in the wild!' And so on. You're actually one of the few I trust to never be tempted away from doing the right thing.”
“A Rishboland tiger in their home?!” Kaveh gasps. “Are they mad?”
“It's a real headache every time, but it sure does happen,” Tighnari sighs, scraping the poultice into a small glass jar. “I think you care more about the welfare of the animal than most of those cases do, so I trust you wouldn't do anything that selfish. I just know you're also sentimental and get emotionally invested easily, so... I didn't want to see you get your heart broken over those foxes you met in the desert. They're doing fine without you. They don't need you to worry about them.”
Kaveh buries his sniffly nose into Tighnari's collarbone. Despite all the sweat, dirt, and fungus residue, there's always a sweet hint of flowers underneath it all. It must be the floral oils Tighnari uses to keep his fur and hair glossy. It's soothing in its familiarity.
Tighnari pulls off his gloves and lays them on the work bench. He hums as his claws stroke through Kaveh's hair, petting him.
“Nari,” Kaveh mumbles into the collar of his tunic. “It's... actually really sweet of you to care about my feelings.”
Tighnari smiles indulgently at the way Kaveh leans his full weight into him, pressing him against the counter as he seeks more attention. He's like a pet himself.
“Did you think I wouldn't care, dummy? I appreciate that you looked out for the wildlife the way you did,” Tighnari replies, tail rubbing against Kaveh's thigh and leaving green fur stuck to the black fabric of his pants. “I would have too, but I was in no shape to do anything myself. I'm glad you were there.”
“Nariii, hush,” Kaveh whines, dragging out the vowels. His fingers twist in the front of Tighnari's tunic. “That's embarrassing. You're going to make me blush if you keep saying nice things.”
“Then I'm not going to stop saying nice things,” Tighnari promises, before pressing a kiss to Kaveh's temple.
“Go back to teasing me,” Kaveh grumbles, hiding his smile. “That I can handle.”
“I'm sure those manipulative foxes were grateful that you don't know how to say no to con artists. You fed them your entire rations, didn't you?”
“You-! How dare – they're like babies, they're innocent creatures! I did not get scammed by foxes!”
Kaveh sets the empty goblet down on the kitchen counter, and wipes his wine-stained lips dry on the back of his hand. The drink doesn't make him any braver this time. If anything, he can feel the unwanted edges of sadness staining his thoughts, which is the last thing he wants to deal with right now.
“I've traveled alone in the desert before,” Kaveh announces with all the forced cheer he can muster. “I know what I'm doing!”
Cyno's penetrating stare is burning holes through Kaveh's back. He tries not to squirm under the scrutiny, but oh, Cyno is the master of getting culprits to confess to their guilt. He feels rather like an ant underneath a magnifying glass, just waiting for the sunlight to catch the right angle and evaporate him where he stands.
“...Haitham and Nari shared their concerns with me. They both figured you were up to something. I told them you would never lie to me.”
“I-I'm not! It's fine! Stop worrying about me!”
Kaveh exits the kitchen and walks at a brisk pace down the hallway, scarves fluttering in his wake like crimson tailfeathers. He's the epitome of calm, cool, and sober. He would never blurt out anything he didn't mean to say. Cyno's definitely not angry at him, and Kaveh is definitely not running away from the conversation.
Cyno only pads barefoot in his shadow, accusatory glare sharpening with each step.
Kaveh makes a tipsy lunge for the handle of his bedroom door, but Cyno's polearm is already through the doorway, blocking him from closing it. He struggles briefly, Kaveh leaning his weight into the door to try and force it shut, but there's little point in resistance against that supernatural strength of Cyno's. Despite his unimpressive stature, the Mahamatra can lift men twice his weight and fling them across a room without breaking a sweat.
An ordinary person like Kaveh, who can't lift a two-handed sword without hurting his wrists, doesn't stand a chance.
Kaveh's defiant expression crumples like wet paper. His shoulders slump as he sighs, releasing the door. Kaveh makes no move to resist as Cyno steers his unsteady body to the foot of his bed, and pushes him into sitting on the edge of the mattress.
It's not like he's going anywhere tonight. The room is spinning, and with his luck, he'll just end up falling on his ass again if he stays standing.
“I'm going to the desert with you,” Cyno declares, like it's the end of the discussion.
He rubs Kaveh on the exposed skin of his back as he settles cross-legged beside him, countenance solemn and unreadable. Sometimes his stony expressions are as bad as Alhaitham's, but at least Cyno uses touch to say what his words don't.
“Do you now think me too pathetic to even travel on my own?” Kaveh mutters, moodily avoiding eye contact. “I've been to the desert plenty of times before, Cyno.”
Cyno's palm is so warm. It's distracting.
“For overseeing a project, or for research, sure,” Cyno replies. “But you don't go to a place like the Great Red Sand for no reason at all. If you don't want to tell me the reason, I will assume it's something dangerous you don't want me to worry about. I will accompany you for your own protection.”
Kaveh tries to make a scoffing noise in the back of his throat, but it comes out dangerously close to a sob. He draws his knees up to his chest and hugs them close, curling into a defensive ball just like the pill bugs he used to find underneath damp rocks when he was little enough that home still felt like home.
“I said, it's fine,” Kaveh sulks, picking at a thread in the blanket beneath him. “It's a silly reason. I don't want to say.”
“You respect the dangers of the desert more than most, but don't let your stubbornness outweigh your common sense.”
“Don't be mad at me.”
“I'm not mad,” Cyno reassures him patiently. “I just care what happens to you.”
“Doesn't matter,” Kaveh says mulishly, turning his head away.
Cyno's fingers cup the underside of his chin and gently turn his face back, drawing Kaveh into a chaste kiss.
Kaveh's cheeks are flushed from more than just the wine, now. He blinks rapidly, staring at Cyno, who holds his trembling gaze without flinching.
“It matters to me,” Cyno says simply. “To all of us. None of us want you carelessly going into the desert and never coming home again. You belong here.”
Cyno's arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, pulling Kaveh into a protective hug.
Kaveh shudders as the tension bleeds from his posture.
“I would never do that to you,” Kaveh promises in a small voice. “I wouldn't... want you to blame yourself. I promise I'll be careful, Cyno.”
“...Alright,” Cyno concedes softly. “I trust you, Kaveh. We all do. But learn your limits, and don't push past them. Take breaks frequently.”
“I will.”
“Don't give away more water than you can afford to go without, even if an animal is involved. Don't let them outfox you.”
“I know, I know! Gods – what on earth did Nari tell you that I said?”
“And I better not hear about you passing out again–”
“Cyno, darling, you're nagging,” Kaveh whines, curling into Cyno's embrace. “I said, it'll be fine! I just... have something I want to take care of. I'll feel better once I do. Let me do this.”
Cyno hums in agreement. Kaveh tentatively lays his head against Cyno's bare chest.
At the steady beat of his heart, the lonely weight in Kaveh's chest at last begins to uncoil.
The vibrant beauty of the desert at night is unmatched in all of Sumeru. The stars spiraling above are brilliant points of light, as many as there are grains of sand shifting beneath Kaveh's footsteps. Mehrak's soft glow bobs near Kaveh's shoulder, projecting a map into the air for him to navigate.
Kaveh and Mehrak hike in amiable silence past cacti and Ajilenakh palm trees, tawny needlegrass and burrowing scorpions, and at one point, a faraway herd of wild sumpter beasts huddled around an oasis. The slight breeze that stirs the dunes and chases tumbleweeds to and fro is pleasantly cool and dry as it ruffles his hair. Sand gathers in the creases and folds of his clothing, as is the fate for all desert travelers.
A busily toiling scarab rolls its dung ball across Kaveh's path. He pauses to watch it go with a nod of acknowledgment for its hard work – a fellow creative, pouring effort into building something out of nothing – and then journeys on, until he finally reaches the destination he marked on Mehrak's map.
Kaveh kneels beneath the naturally-formed stone arch and pours out the contents of his travel pack: a pile of shiny red Henna berries he picked along the way, fowl from the market, and bird's eggs. A bowl, which he proceeds to fill with half of his water. The dried Sunsettia and unsalted jerky he packed as his own rations, for good measure.
As he arranges the colorful offering to be more pleasing to the eye, Kaveh speaks his mind to the open air, where no one can hear him.
“It's silly to still feel guilty over this, isn't it? I wasn't personally responsible for designing the parameters of the Akademiya's competition. It's not like I disturbed the Ley Lines myself. But I still knowingly participated, and that makes me at least partially accountable. I can't shake the feeling that I have to make it up to you guys, somehow. That I owe you. Or maybe I'm just that desperate for forgiveness, and I'm projecting my need even onto dumb beasts. Pretty pathetic of me, huh?”
Kaveh rocks back onto his haunches, resting his arms on his knees as he scrutinizes his tableau. The desert's wild beauty conjures a homesickness battering the inside of his ribs that Kaveh can't explain away with words and logic, even if he knows where it originates from. It's that same tired longing that he can never seem to fulfill by himself, that old wound that never healed right, the burden Kaveh keeps trying to atone for in everything he does. He's a grown man, but still he craves reassurance like a child, and hates to be alone.
He misses his partners. And how telling is it that Kaveh can't even be satisfied with the love and attention of one man – he's so greedy that he needs all three of them? How unflattering.
The trio of desert foxes peek out from their burrow beneath the archway, wet noses twitching, huge ears perked with curiosity. Moonlight reflects against their eyes as they watch him warily, making their nocturnal gazes glow as green as Mehrak's digital display.
A small smile works its way across Kaveh's expression. They remind him of the kids at the Bazaar, the ones he buys candies for whenever he has spare change, and plays hide and seek with, though he always lets them win. Kaveh stands up and stretches until his aching joints creak, then turns his back on the food, pretending he doesn't see the foxes spying on him.
“I suppose I'm just as much of a mess as my partners say I am. So what? So what if Haitham is right, and I'd rather focus my energy and resources on everyone but myself. It's not wrong for me to have empathy for living creatures. It's not that I should care less, other people should care more,” Kaveh calls out to the starry sky, hands firm on his hips. "They're wrong, not me!"
At that, the bravest fox nips the dangling end of Kaveh's scarf and gives it an experimental tug.
Kaveh stifles a laugh as Mehrak beeps in concern. The toolbox puts on a determined face and bobs in between Kaveh and the foxes, who promptly ignore them both in favor of the food.
"...Don't tell Haitham I said he's right," Kaveh mutters to the foxes. "And don't tell him this is why I came to the desert. He'll never let me hear the end of it. Maybe Nari is right too, and you guys will forget all about me. It's not like I have much to offer, anyway. Just consider this my apology for getting your home caught up in our silly human games. I'm bribing you to be forgiven. Is it working?"
Kaveh turns around to peek. The trio of foxes grab the eggs and scatter across the sands, vanishing down the burrow with their prizes. They're skittish around humans after all, without the confusion of the Ley Line disturbance clouding their instincts.
Far be it from Kaveh to teach them otherwise. This is where they belong.
Kaveh squares his shoulders and faces the horizon, where the barest streaks of dawn lighten the dark sky to hues of crimson and gold. Mehrak hovers at his side, beeping a little tune in encouragement. Soon the chill of night will give way to sunrise, and the scorching heat will return to the red sands in full force. He has no reason to stay overlong. The desert is not where he wants to be.
Alhaitham, Tighnari, and Cyno are waiting.
Kaveh doesn't deserve them, but so what? It's okay to be selfish, once in a while. He'll make it up to them, any way he can.
“Let's leave the foxes be, Mehrak, dear,” Kaveh says lightly, waving his hand. “It's time for us to go home.”