Work Text:
It’s the anniversary of Alhaitham’s grandmother’s death, and Kaveh wakes extra early to prepare food and other necessities his roommate can bring when he goes to visit her grave. In the four years that they’ve lived together, Kaveh easily picked up this practice from the very first time Alhaitham advised he’ll be gone for the whole day, expressing he wishes to be undisturbed, so Kaveh shouldn’t come looking for him even if their house is on fire.
“The whole day?” Kaveh had questioned, eyes searching for anything that Alhaitham plans to bring with him, only to find none. No food, no water. Not even a blanket where he could sit on as he whiles his hours away.
He didn’t hesitate preparing something for Alhaitham the second he realized this. It wasn’t as good as what he’s been making in the following years given that it’s on such short notice– only managing to pack reheats from the night before and a jug of cold water– but at the very least, he’s not all too worried that his junior would be starving himself throughout his grief.
It’s a familiar limbo that Kaveh’s well acquainted with, to feel suspended in a vast space of emptiness with nothing that tethers you to anything. In this this state, there is nothing to pull you back to steep in your harrowing sorrow, but there also is no path that allows you to move forward. And oh, how splendidly easy it is to ignore and forget everything else during these vulnerable moments.
Kaveh may not have a full grasp on how Alhaitham feels about his loss, and would never dare compare Alhaitham’s grief with his, but if there’s a way to make things easier and lighter for him, Kaveh wouldn’t hesitate to do so.
This year brings no difference. He’s made certain that his mornings are free so he could get an early head start with Alhaitham’s packed lunch, and has ensured that his work wouldn’t stretch out until the late evenings so he could welcome his roommate back home in whatever state he would be in.
It speaks volumes that Alhaitham has never voiced how he feels regarding Kaveh doing all of these preparations for him, even the first time it’s happened. Then, and the next years to come, aside from letting Kaveh know when he’s about to head out, Alhaitham would simply accept the bag that Kaveh would give him and say nothing else. Not even a nod of his head or a raise of a brow.
It’s as if Alhaitham has transcended somewhere, some place Kaveh couldn’t reach him, like he’s not quite there, and the body that stands before the blonde is but an empty shell. At times, when Kaveh would take a few seconds to assess his roommate to check if Alhaitham is at least well enough to travel on his own safely, his heart breaks into a thousand tiny pieces when he sees a reflection of himself in a mirror that’s as fragmented as his soul.
Kaveh is just about to prepare a second serving of Alhaitham’s favorite dish when said man enters the kitchen. The sound of his footsteps announces his presence, and Kaveh throws a quick look over his shoulder just to let Alhaitham know that he’s aware he’s there.
“Good morning, you’re up earlier than usual.” During these days, Kaveh also puts extra effort in filling the silence for the both of them, not expecting Alhaitham to say anything at all. “I’ll be done in a few minutes so bear with me, okay? You can wait there on the chair or in the living room.”
The sound of chopping then takes over for him as he tries to move faster. He knows that Alhaitham wouldn’t leave without at least tapping his shoulder even though he stays mum, but Kaveh always thinks of the worst things, and that would be Alhaitham leaving without saying goodbye.
So forgive him if he almost hurts himself when Alhaitham says, “Come with me.”
“Eh?” The knife almost slips and cuts his fingertips instead of the onion. Its resounding clack against the chopping board adds to Kaveh’s startle that he panics, thinking that he just lost a fingernail despite the absence of blood and pain. In an instant, Alhaitham is by side, pulling his hands and inspecting them thoroughly finger by finger.
“I’m fine.” Kaveh manages, but Alhaitham would decide that for himself once he’s meticulously gone through every nail.
“Be more careful.” Is all the man says after once he’s satisfied.
“I am, I was just…” He trails off, doesn’t really need to say it out loud for they both know what he means. Alhaitham nods in understanding, and if his eyes look more downcast from the guilt of contributing nothing to their conversations when this time of the year comes, Kaveh knows better than to tell him he shouldn’t feel sorry. It’s not how Alhaitham works, and those are not the words that could help him get over it.
Instead, he pats his junior’s head once before handing him a plate of samosas.
“Okay. Then, be a dear and put these in that box over there.” He instructs, tone gentle, and points to the containers on the dining table. “And don’t just toss it in, okay? Arrange them neatly so they’d all fit.”
Plate in his hands, Alhaitham doesn’t answer but he nods his head and immediately gets to work. Kaveh takes notice of his eyes losing its sad haze and replaced with that of focus, now that there’s something for him to do. The blonde counts that as a win, and that’s enough.
In the next half hour, they go about finishing the preparations, with Kaveh guiding Alhaitham to do small tasks while he takes care of the more complicated ones. From time to time, he’d shoot a worried glance over his junior to see how he’s doing, and the relief that washes over him is unmistakable. This sudden change in their routine now still feels too tender and fragile, but Kaveh would gladly protect this moment, would happily step on and around glass shards, if this is finally the path that will lead Alhaitham out the tunnel.
“Will you wait for me a bit more? I’ll just change my clothes.” Alhaitham turns to look at him, and if the man had been his usual self he probably would have told Kaveh that he looks fine as it is, but Kaveh still smells of the kitchen and he feels a little sticky from when he’s basked in the heat of the stove. Alhaitham nods eventually and Kaveh beams at him, appreciating being deigned a response. So he quickly throws on a plain, long-sleeved shirt and airy pants that’s ideal for long, relaxed walks, allowing him to feel the wind on his skin. When he comes out of his room, Alhaitham is waiting by the door, hands already carrying the large bag Kaveh’s prepared and another smaller one with just a wooden box on it.
Yet another thing that’s different out of all the past anniversaries, but Kaveh doesn’t ask, doesn’t pry. He’s content and happy to see Alhaitham taking initiatives like this, a welcome sight after watching him be hollow void in the past four years.
Alhaitham hands him that small bag, the lighter load, and Kaveh smiles wordlessly while taking it.
It’s a long walk, but the time they spend just trudging Sumeru’s grassfields side-by-side brings comfort even in their silence. Kaveh doesn’t speak much besides occasionally pointing out things that he find interesting, asking Alhaitham to pause as he grabs a bunch of wildberries they’d pass along the way. He’d rub one clean on his shirt, and he feels happy when Alhaitham eats the one that he pushes gently on the man’s lips.
Throughout it all, once Kaveh returns by his side, Alhaitham’s hand would raise minutely as he meets Kaveh’s outstretched one halfway. Palm to palm and fingers interlocked, Kaveh would gently tug to get them walking again, leading the way despite not knowing where exactly they’re heading. But that’s fine, because Alhaitham then would pull in a direction and Kaveh would quickly turn in understanding.
The sun has fully peeked past the mountains when they reach a hill filled with wildflowers. In the few scattered trees, Alhaitham directs Kaveh to one of the biggest, offering a vast amount of shade that will keep them safe from the heat. There’s a noticeable stone tablet that sits underneath, just a little farther to where the great roots of the tree couldn’t seize it.
For the first time since that morning, Kaveh feels his heart race. He’s been too busy minding and looking out for Alhaitham that it only dawns on him now how he’s actually about to face the most important person in his roommate’s life.
Alhaitham stops and looks over at him, sensing how Kaveh may have lost his earlier enthusiasm, but he’s quick to dismiss the other’s worries with a nervous laugh. “Oh, don’t mind me! I’m just, you know,” He gestures at himself. “do I look okay? My hair’s not a mess, right? It’s windy, I should’ve sprayed some–”
Kaveh feels a squeeze on his hand, and when he looks at Alhaitham again, he’s graced with the man’s first, and hopefully not the last smile for today. It promptly shuts him up, the tenderness and reassurance, and the hidden amusement in Alhaitham’s eyes a gift that flusters him so. Reddened mess that he is, Alhaitham encouragingly pulls him along, leading the way this time, until they finally reach his grandmother, tablet adorned by little wild flowers and clovers on its foot.
Alhaitham places the bag down on the grass and approaches with Kaveh in tow. He bends down and rests his fingers on the stone in a caress.
“We are here, grandmother.” He greets, and Kaveh feels another squeeze on his hand, a firm grip that doesn’t let go instantly until Alhaitham straightens up. It is then, when his junior looks at him expectantly, that Kaveh also touches the stone lightly with his fingertips and offers his own greeting.
“Good morning, madam. I hope you don’t mind me joining you, today.” At a particular gust of wind, he quickly adds, “And please don’t mind my hair, it’s rather windy–”
Alhaitham snorts, another reaction that takes Kaveh secretly by surprise, but he doesn’t show it and instead glares at Alhaitham who he knows is thankful for how things continue to unfold between them like any normal day.
With pleasantries done, Alhaitham finally lets go of his hand if only to arrange the blanket by the tree where he usually sits. Kaveh helps him stretch out the cloth until all its ends lay unmoving, using the weight of the bag to keep it from being blown away. Kaveh removes his shoes and sits in the middle, pulling Alhaitham along with him as soon as his own boots are left discarded on the side.
He tries to keep his hair from flying over his mouth as he brings out the food containers. So busy in his preparations that it takes him some time to notice Alhaitham’s soft touches as the man gathers his hair to prevent the strands from distracting him in his task. It’s only when he feels a rather strong pull that has his head falling back, that Kaveh discovers whatever it is that Alhaitham got himself occupied with.
“Haitham?” He asks, trying to look over his shoulder but the other prevents him from doing so until he’s finished. And when he’s finally done, Kaveh reaches behind him to feel that his hair has been bundled in a tight ponytail. He turns around fast, mouth agape, and is greeted by Alhaitham’s proud smile.
“You have a hair tie with you all this time?” Kaveh accuses. “And you never told me?”
“You never asked.”
“I can’t believe this.”
As if to antagonize him more, Alhaitham magically produces red hair pins from his pocket and reaches out to smooth away Kaveh’s bangs from his face, securing them neatly to the side.
“For the record, I always have these with me.” Is all the explanation that Alhaitham affords him, but Kaveh knows what he means. The next time, instead of complaining endlessly, he could just ask Alhaitham for a tie or a clip, or for anything that he needs, because his roommate has him covered just as how he’ll always be there for Alhaitham, no questions asked.
It’s difficult to give the man an offended side-eye, considering how he truly feels at the gesture, but he still tries to, with him looking like a petulant child that Alhaitham adores anyway.
The next minutes are spent sampling the food that Kaveh has brought with them. It puts him at ease that Alhaitham doesn’t seem to have lost his appetite as he finishes the modified Sabz stew that Kaveh had called exceptionally gnarly once upon a time. He failed to dispute its taste though, and if he closed his eyes it did still capture the original, tanginess from the stew that it had once been. Alhaitham looked so smug, and Kaveh had no choice but to learn how to make it eventually, just to at least make it look as presentable and as edible as the other normal pies.
Kaveh startles when Alhaitham suddenly looks at him piercingly, as if contemplating something. He’s been too lost once more in his worries that he forgets to mind himself and how he must’ve looked like a creep, to be blatantly staring and counting the number of spoonfuls his junior has taken just to ensure that he’s eating well.
The container is thankfully empty when Alhaitham puts it down. Kaveh thought he would reach for another, going for the samosas or the few baklavas he’s managed to squeeze in. But instead, Alhaitham reaches for the other bag, the wooden box, the only thing he’s brought of his own accord. Kaveh has forgotten about it until now, but as the opportunity presents itself, he watches Alhaitham unlock it with a small copper key. His roommate looks at him, and Kaveh takes it as a signal for him to scoot closer so they can inspect its contents together.
Compared the box of mementos Kaveh’s been keeping, Alhaitham’s box doesn’t have much inside despite its large size. There’s an old, dull quill that’s already lost some of its barbs, a high-quality wooden Burmester curve that almost instantly steals Kaveh’s attention, and a book with a solid emerald-colored skin that he had actually seen a few times in Alhaitham’s hands during quiet, peaceful nights.
It’s easy to deduce that it’s the most valued and loved out of all the things inside the box, so it surprises Kaveh when it’s this book that Alhaitham gives him.
The weight of it feels too heavy in his hands, and Kaveh doesn’t know if it’s just the sheer thickness of it that makes him think so, or if it’s the emotions welling up inside him that affects his appraisal of it. He’s always been too emotional for his own good, too empathetic, but he’s also long learned how to manage his feelings in a way that it would channel in another, more acceptable form. In this case, Kaveh manages an appreciative smile instead of letting his lips wobble, and he latches on to his curiosity instead of entertaining the images of a young student Alhaitham in his brain, clutching this memento in his then scrawny arms.
At Alhaitham’s approving nod, Kaveh opens the book and sees something written on the title page, words swirling in elegant strokes.
“It is my grandmother’s last gift to me.” He tells Kaveh. “All her teachings, beliefs and philosophies, her enlightening guidance, could be found in that book. Although, I would argue that she did a far better job at explaining them to me through her words, for when I try to look for them in its pages, the text fails to resonate within me.”
“That is a pretty useless book, because it teaches me nothing.” Alhaitham says, painfully honest with what he truly thinks about it. Then he points at the text, the one that’s captured Kaveh’s eyes. “Its only saving grace are the very words she’s written herself, proving my point.”
“May my child Alhaitham lead a peaceful life…” Kaveh read aloud, fingers hovering over the fading script.
“Do you suppose that I am leading a peaceful life, just as my grandmother hoped for?”
Kaveh looks up, trying to see and read the false indifference in Alhaitham’s face.
“Well, coup aside,” Kaveh brings a hand up and starts counting with his fingers. “You’re no longer the grand sage as you’ve been reinstated in your job as a scribe, you go in and clock out of work on the dot, go home to continue reading your books or have dinner at Lambad’s when we both don’t have time to cook, go to bed without worrying about anything else after– it’s all boring and repetitive, really, but,” Kaveh stretches his hand and examines it as if the things he’s said can be visibly found in between his fingers. Then he smiles. “I would say yes, you live a pretty peaceful life now.”
“I see.” Alhaitham takes in the words like how he would a lecture, for Kaveh observes the same furrow on his brows whenever he would hear one, academic lecture or not. “Then, do you suppose it is alright for me to grieve?”
“Huh?”
“I’ve prevented myself from grieving, because these emotions might distract me from my goal.” Alhaitham explains in that matter-of-fact of his, as if he’s just not dropped the most devastating thing Kaveh has heard all day. “I know it’s irrational. But when I lost her, it’s what made the most sense to me. If I had lost my grip on myself, I might not have been able to arrange and manage her funeral and all the other things that came with and after it.”
“So if you say that it’s fine now, if you think I have finally honored my grandmother’s words, I’ll trust you.”
“I see.” Kaveh feels his eyes water but valiantly fights to hold them in. This isn’t about him, and Alhaitham needs a stronghold, something to keep him grounded. Resolutely, Kaveh reaches up and holds Alhaitham’s face, as he tries to keep his own voice from shaking. “Well done, Haitham. It’s okay now.”
The relief on Alhaitham’s face is unmistakable upon hearing those words.
“Please excuse this behavior then, Senior Kaveh.”
Alhaitham pulls Kaveh more into his space, in between his knees, with a longing and urgency that has him trembling. The tears fall immediately, one that Kaveh feels more than sees as Alhaitham tucks his head at the crook of the blonde’s neck, arms around his waist in a tight embrace, with tremors that speak of how he’s trying his best to hold on and be tethered to Kaveh as if the blonde would let him go.
All this time, are you not aware that you’ve been grieving? Kaveh means to ask, but chooses to keep it to himself. He hugs him back instead, with as much love and care as he could, a solid and unyielding support, a companion to share in his misery that Alhaitham’s deprived himself of all these years.
His hand smooths over the younger’s back, while his other hand soothingly rubs through his hair, on his scalp, willing Alhaitham to relax further in his arms and put all his weight over to Kaveh, completely letting go.
Time passes quietly like that, the clear, sunny skies ignorant of the sorrowful tempest raining down on Kaveh’s shoulder, unknowing of the man who bravely lets himself break apart, trusting his other half to catch and collect each piece of him that threatens to be swept away, protecting him from being consumed by the irrationality he fears. Amidst all this, the strong winds have mellowed into a gentle brush against their skin, a welcoming chill, a refreshing reminder.
It takes a while before the sobs fade into soft sniffs, but Kaveh’s not really keeping track of every minute that passes by, intent to give all the time in the world to Alhaitham until he’s back together again, even with nicks and dents, but still strong and perfect in Kaveh’s eyes. He feels lips pressing a thankful kiss against his damp shoulder before Alhaitham pulls away, just enough for them to see each other’s faces.
The image of Alhaitham with red, puffy eyes, wet tracks on his cheeks, and lashes wet with the remnants of his tears, has Kaveh sighing fondly.
“Ah, the world is truly fair.” Kaveh grins as he wipes the stray drops that manage to escape from Alhaitham’s eyes at the last minute. “I’d be filing a complaint to Celestia if you still looked too handsome even after crying.”
“Rude.” Alhaitham rolls his eyes. “I never called you an ugly crier.”
“Because I’m not.” Kaveh huffs. It would seem that the other is still too tired to continue their playful exchange, for Alhaitham sighs and nuzzles his face on Kaveh’s hands, craving more of his comforting touch.
“You’re right.” He acquiesces. They don’t speak much, after, content to bask in the calm after the storm, together.
The sun is already setting when they decide to leave. Hand in hand, they say their ‘thank yous’ and farewells to Alhaitham’s grandmother, with a promise of going back the next year with one of her favorite dishes, now that her grandson feels more comfortable to share these little facts out loud.
Alhaitham’s mood has improved greatly, for now he’s actively teasing Kaveh as they walk home, pointing out how his hair is a mess and joking how the cream-colored shirt Kaveh’s worn is actually a color that his grandmother doesn’t favor. When it would seem that the blonde is taking his jesting to heart, already planning in his head what he’ll wear the following year, Alhaitham pulls him close and pinches Kaveh’s cheek.
“I wasn’t serious. I don’t know what her favorite colors are.” There’s a tinge of regret in his voice. “But, if I know one thing about her and you Kshahrewars, is that you’re great advocates of beauty, and you already meet, if not surpass, all those ridiculously high standards even with your hair all over the place.”
“What–is that what they teach you, Haravatats?” Kaveh elbows him in an effort to hide his embarrassment. “You and your words.”
Alhaitham laughs, low and diabolical as Kaveh would like to describe it whenever he finds himself at the other end of his teasing. And when he recovers, Alhaitham’s eyes have once more softened.
“Thank you.” He tells Kaveh, sincere and loving, that Kaveh wonders how the scribe could fit all those overwhelming emotions in just two words.
Before, Kaveh would shake his head and tell Alhaitham that there’s no need to thank him, but his junior has long drilled in his brain to learn how to accept gratitude, especially one that comes from him. Much later, Kaveh realizes that it puts Alhaitham’s mind at ease, to know that his words did convey what he truly feels, a comfort for someone who’s often misunderstood with how he’s learned to deal with the world.
So Kaveh receives his thanks with an arm winding around Alhaitham’s waist as the man puts his own around the blonde’s shoulder.
+++
Extra:
It’s a little surreal for Kaveh, if he’s going to be honest, to witness another person plunge in their sorrow and rise out of it, with Kaveh’s guiding hand. The first was his mother, and from how he’s learned and tried his best to fill in the gaps in her heart, perhaps it’s how he’s managed to extend a hand and pull Alhaitham away from that limbo of his. But it has Kaveh thinking now, if he himself has truly managed to get out of his own void, or if he has simply deluded himself into thinking he did.
“What’s on your mind?” Alhaitham asks as silence washes over Kaveh, some time as they near their doorstep.
“I was just thinking that it would’ve been nice to have something like that, like a tombstone? Or just, any marker.” Kaveh sheepishly explains and vaguely gestures. “I mean, you know how we lost my father in the desert? We never found him, and so when the anniversary of his death would come, I would go to the desert, and walk aimlessly, and I’d feel a million times more lost than I usually am on a normal day.”
“I’ll go with you, next time.” Alhaitham rubs a finger against his knuckles. “You won’t get lost when you’re with me. I’ll bring you home.”
Just like how Kaveh’s pulled him out of his limbo, just like how he’s tethered Alhaitham and held his hands.
Kaveh purses his lips, but he’s nodding his head anyway.
“Alright,” He says, “I’ll hold you to that.”