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1.
His experience at the Akademia has been tolerable so far, Ilya supposes. He’s enjoyed staying in Sumeru with Peregrin but when it comes to his academic experience, he’s only attended a few classes so far — mostly due to Lesser Lord Kusanali’s encouragement and Faruzan’s persistence — and he hasn’t found something that has truly caught his attention. At least it has been something to occupy himself with while Peregrin has been studying in Vahumana.
And it has been nice to get to know his great-aunt, too. He and Mira had heard talk of their relative who had gone missing in the Sumeru deserts but he hadn’t expected to find her very much found and happily re-instated in her teaching position. The letter he had received from Mira when she found out was the longest one yet; he couldn’t wait for her to finally come and visit when she had a long enough leave of absence from the Fatui.
But when it came to Ilya’s opinions on the students at the Akademia… well, the next person to call his master “Hat Guy” would be getting dropkicked, if Ilya had anything to say about it.
Sadly, he doesn’t.
“It was Lesser Lord Kusanali’s suggestion.” Peregrin leans back against the finely crafted bench and plays with the petals of a rose between his fingers. “I wouldn’t have agreed if it mattered.”
“But…” Ilya has enough respect for Lesser Lord Kusanali to hesitate, but… it still doesn’t feel quite right. “But the name that the traveller helped you choose for yourself after…”
He trails off despite himself.
When it comes down to it, if Peregrin is truly okay with this, then nothing more needs to be said.
But he would like to understand.
“As long as you continue to use my name,” Peregrin says softly, “This nickname will suffice. The people here do not need to know my true name for the time being.”
Ilya picks a petal from his hair and flicks it away. He leans over to do the same for Peregrin, and presses a kiss to his cheek for good measure.
“As long as you’re happy.”
“Hmm.” He earns a smile in return.
From further down the hill, a woman begins to announce names.
“Come, Ilya.” Peregrin rises abruptly; turns to hold out his hand with expectancy. “I have an appearance to make, after all.”
2.
While the other competitors race around tracking down swiftflies, Ilya and Peregrin head to Puspa Café after Lesser Lord Kusanali passes on a tip regarding the whereabouts of Sachin's son. The son and his disguised conspirator at the café talk for about ten minutes; Peregrin notes down every word. Their attempt at being surreptitious is so pitiful that Ilya has to brace himself against his love and laugh into his shoulder as soon as they leave.
The round isn’t quite over yet and Peregrin hasn’t yet finished his coffee so they wait outside the café for a while longer. One of the baits Faruzan worked on lands on their table. Ilya holds out his hand and watches as the small contraption tentatively places a leg on the tip of his finger.
“They’re quite something…”
He makes a mental note to interrogate Faruzan about how she and that architect have gotten them to work so realistically, when the parade is over.
“Mm.” Peregrin makes a noncommittal sound, his eyes fixed on the cooling coffee in front of him. “How do humans drink this, Ilya?”
Ilya stifles a laugh so as not to scare the butterfly bait into flight.
“Shall I bring us some tea instead, master?”
“Do that.”
-
When Ilya returns from the cafe with a small tray of tea and candied ajilenakh nuts, he is just in time to see the traveller and their floating friend leaving. The traveller lifts a hand in a brief wave and Ilya returns it.
“So that’s where his watchdog went,” he hears the floating one comment to her companion. “That’s an extra troublemaker to keep an eye on…”
Ilya sticks his tongue out, pointedly sitting down with his back to her. He slides Peregrin’s tea to him and takes a sip of his own.
“Were they bothering you, master?”
Peregrin shrugs as he lifts his teacup to his lips.
The butterfly bait is hovering by the roof now and Ilya cannot help but stare in fascination.
“Should I be bothered by your focus?” His master’s tone is delightfully huffy as he sets his cup down with a clink. “Will you be cheering for their creators in the competitions, Ilarion?”
“Never,” Ilya says sternly, but he grins as he splits a piece of their dessert in two and takes a bite.
3.
Ilya has been dreading entering the desert ever since Lesser Lord Kusanali briefed him and Peregrin on what sorts of things the Interdarshan Championship might entail. He rarely feels homesick for Snezhnaya these days, but nothing makes him wish more for his home’s constant flurries of snow than this blistering heat and endless sand.
Peregrin is wearing his usual attire and a scowl. It’s as handsome a scowl as ever, though a little rarer these days.
They’ve already had to stop several times to remove sand from shoes (and Peregrin’s joints) and steady themselves for the steep climb to the cliffs above Aaru Village. Ilya pauses again for a quick drink — since he isn’t an official competitor, thankfully his water supply has no limit — and contents himself with the thought that at least the bulk of what he and Peregrin will be doing this round is focused on spying rather than scurrying alongside the others.
When they reach a place to sit and watch, there is silence for a while.
Peregrin seems to be keeping an eye on all movement around equally, but Ilya is most interested in what his great-aunt is up to. At one point she notices him watching: Faruzan looks up and gives him a little wave, which Ilya returns enthusiastically until she starts to mouth something that looks suspiciously like “come to my class again next time!” He folds his legs up and looks resolutely at the cacti nearby until she shrugs and goes back to work.
The architect she worked with in the previous round seems to have befriended a small desert fox, which bounces alongside him wherever he goes. Ilya isn’t sure how helpful that will be for the competition, but it is rather a charming sight.
Meanwhile, the General Mahamatra seems to have been stationary for an unusual amount of time. Ilya is about to comment on it to Peregrin when his master abruptly gets to his feet. He rises too; follows his master’s gaze, down to the forest ranger slumped in the sand.
“I suppose it’s up to me to do something about this.” Peregrin reaches for one of the water canteens. “Ilya, meet me further down. I’ll catch up with you soon.”
He too must have noticed the traveller and Paimon heading in the same direction, but Ilya does not point it out. He nods, slides the rest of supplies over his shoulder and begins the climb.
4.
“They seemed to think I’d tampered with the water.” Peregrin says as he approaches, hands raised in a humoured shrug.
Ilya makes an offended sound on his behalf and Peregrin laughs out loud. He draws him in close. Then he slumps gently onto Ilya’s shoulder.
“Master?”
“A moment,” He says quietly. “To recharge.”
Ilya slips an arm around him and waits until both of their breaths steady.
“I suppose we should catch up with Lesser Lord Kusanali, to end all this before the final round” Peregrin sighs into his neck. “Let’s head back, Ilya.”
5.
Handling the Eremites hired by Sachin’s son is trivial work for someone as competent as Ilya’s master. Ilya has barely any need to raise his own weapon, but he does so anyway, of course. After that has been dealt with, all that remains is getting Peregrin to the final round in time for him to compete. Ilya watches him snatch the diadem with perfect precision, holding onto it almost right until the end—
—the competition ends in a flash, with the diadem cracked upon the ground. With no further intervention needed, it is a satisfying ending to the event… even though Ilya would have liked to see Peregrin rightfully crowned.
It is a while after the awards ceremony that the two of them catch up with Lesser Lord Kusanali and chat for a while with the traveller and the floating one.
“Are you serious about keeping me in Vahumana?” Peregrin turns to Lesser Lord Kusanali as soon as the other two depart. “All the way until my final thesis?”
“Of course.” Lesser Lord Kusanali, who Ilya has come to learn never does things by halves, smiles contently at his master. To Ilya’s surprise, she turns to him next: “Meanwhile, perhaps you should consider studying under some of the Kshahrewar scholars. It seems to be something you might enjoy.”
“I don’t know,” Ilya says doubtfully. If he had to choose, it’s definitely the area he’s most interested in. Especially after seeing the sort of things he could learn to make. But… “I don’t like the idea of starting behind. Most of the first-year students are quite a few years younger than me, so…”
“Perhaps I’ll use the same excuse. I won't start studying until I find a class where my classmates will be in my age range either,” Peregrin says with a snort of laughter.
Lesser Lord Kusanali gives them both a severe look, softened by the kind tone of her words.
“It might help to look at it from a different perspective,” she says. “Why would you see it as being behind? Those students are lacking experiences you have had, just as much as you are lacking experiences they’ve had. Every person’s journey is different. I think you both would understand that better than most.”
Peregrin gives a loud sigh, but he nods slightly when Ilya looks his way.
“I’ll think about it,” says Ilya. “If I do, will you review my final thesis too?”
“Of course!” Lesser Lord Kusanali beams at him. “Anyway, I wanted to thank you both for how well things worked out. As much as Kaveh deserved the win, you deserve just as much credit for your part.”
“I agree,” Ilya puffs up proudly. “But Master won in my eyes!”
“Of course you would say that. You know I didn’t care about winning such a trivial—”
“You won in my eyes too!” Lesser Lord Kusanali cuts in with a playful tone. “Your performance in the final round was—”
“Ugh.” Peregrin turns his back on them and strides away before she can finish.
Ilya gives an unsteady little bow to Lesser Lord Kusanali before he hurries after him, his shoulders shaking with light laughter as he slips his hand into his master’s.