Chapter Text
Ever since the Palace of Alcazarzaray Kaveh had been working on small commissions. A personal home here, some restructuring projects there. Nothing too fancy but it kept him afloat, especially since the architect still had to pay off a debt and rent every month. Alhaitham had been there for him in a time of need and Kaveh would always find ways to repay the Scribe of the Akademiya, even if it were simple chores around the house.
One of these days Kaveh returned to their shared home with a smile on his face, clutching a few rolls of blueprints and documents to his chest as he approached the divan in the living room. Alhaitham was seated across the coffee table, immersed in a book, as he regarded the architect with a simple hum.
“I’ve got a big project!” Kaveh announced with a smile, dropping the papers onto the table and flopping down on the pillows with a satisfied sigh. “The client was an angel! I’m going to be in charge of creating a villa for his future family and workspace. Not to mention the pay!”
Alhaitham glanced over the rim of his book: “Did you make sure the conditions are favorable to you?”
The blonde let out a huff and rested his head on the palm of his hand to get more comfortable. “You could just be happy for me for once. Not that I would ever get to see it.”
“You are avoiding my question, Kaveh.” The Scribe finally lowered the book into his lap, teal eyes meeting carmine. Kaveh furrowed his brow, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“It’s fine, the contract shouldn’t impact my work process. And the pay is guaranteed. Happy?” With a sigh, Kaveh gathered the blueprints and drawings still sprawled across the table to retreat into his room, eager to get started. This was simply the same song and dance they always had whenever the architect landed a bigger commission. But this was it: Another chance at a Palace of Alcazarzaray, to make sure he wouldn’t make the same mistakes. As soon as the door fell into the lock with a soft click Kaveh raced across the room toward his drawing table and dumped the blueprints on the bed next to it. Without further ado Kaveh grabbed a pen and ruler, bringing his ideas and passion to paper.
-
Alhaitham was roused from his sleep by the sound of frantic scratching of a pen on paper and a low groan. This was the third night in a row. “Kaveh, go to sleep. You’re disturbing my schedule.” Voice still hoarse from sleep Alhaitham waited for a reaction after he had called out from his room. A moment later the sounds stopped and he could hear the creak of a door being opened. Footsteps sounded in the hall, stopping in front of the Scribe's room. “I’ll just get another coffee and then keep it down. Wouldn’t want to disturb your beauty sleep.”
The jab was without any bite but lacked Kaveh’s usual enthusiasm, exhaustion bleeding into the words. Alhaitham would have to remind the architect to take care of his own well-being soon. But for now, he closed his eyes and returned to slumber.
On the fifth day since the commission, Kaveh had invited Alhaitham for a night at Lambad’s tavern with Cyno and Tighnari. On the Scribe’s tab, of course. Alhaitham made sure to point out the irony before they left. It was a warm night, the soft murmur of Sumeru City’s nightlife accompanying the duo as they made their way downtown, bickering lightly. Even under the dim light of the street lamps, Alhaitham could see the dark bags forming under the architect’s carmine eyes. His skin looked paler than usual as well. Once again, Kaveh had been neglecting his health to work tirelessly on that project. But he knew better than to remind him constantly, it fell on deaf ears anyway.
“Something on my face? If you keep staring I will charge you!” A sly smirk had made its way onto the blonde's face, turning towards the other man as they approached the tavern.
“I’ll pay with the tab you have on my name. Not that it would cover the cost even slightly.”
Kaveh sharply inhaled and turned with a pout. It was a playful gesture, Alhaitham could see the way his shoulders relaxed as they entered the warm and slightly stuffy air of Lambad’s. They made their way upstairs, greeting the owner on the way. Cyno and Tighnari were already seated in a booth and waved the pair over. “How’s my favorite old married couple?” the fox-like forest ranger quipped with a grin.
“Oh, don’t you start Tighnari! You wouldn’t believe how much he nags me since I’ve taken that commission!” Wildly gesturing with his hands Kaveh slid down on the bench, Alhaitham following suit next to him. “I can’t work a night in peace with him yelling from the other room that I’m disturbing his sleep.” Kaveh reached out to grab one of the wine cups already on the table and downed a generous gulp.
“Sounds like the easiest solution would be to sleep at night,” Tighnari replied with a smirk, glancing over to Alhaitham “wouldn’t you think so?” Kaveh let out a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not you, too! I’m perfectly capable of working through a few nights without issue.” Alhaitham huffed in response.
“At the cost of our coffee stash. I won’t cover the next batch, just so you know.” The forest ranger giggled as Kaveh stared at the Scribe with his jaw open in absolute devastation. “Maybe that’s not a bad idea.” Tighnari added and continued a bit softer: “You do look like you need a break, Kaveh.”
Cyno, who had remained silent throughout the conversation, spoke up: “Compromising your health can be dangerous for your work.” Kaveh finally closed his mouth, jaw clenched for a moment before he let out a sigh.
“Let’s just move on from the topic, okay? All is going well and I have a meeting with my client soon anyway. We’re here to drink and relax tonight!”
After a while, the atmosphere returned to lighthearted conversations, and the topic was drowned in good company, food, and wine. Tighnari and Cyno would later shoot a worried glance at their blond friend as they parted ways. All of them knew that Kaveh had never been particularly good at holding back in regard to his work. Tighnari shared a wordless nod with Alhaitham, hoping the Scribe would keep an eye out for the architect.
The front door swung open to reveal a disheveled-looking blond architect, huffing as he removed his shoes and crashed down on the divan, blueprints slipping from his grasp and onto the table. Alhaitham watched on from behind the pages of his book as Kaveh buried his face between his hands, letting out a frustrated groan. Silence hung heavy in the air before the Scribe decided to speak: “Trouble with the client?”
Kaveh peeked up from underneath his hands before replying: “What do you care? Hoping to get some ammunition to nag me again?” Before Alhaitham could answer his Senior kept talking: “It’s nothing major, just some adjustments to the blueprints. I went a bit overboard with my detailing is all. I’ll get it fixed in no time.”
Alhaitham shook his head, returning to the pages in front of him. “And what does that imply? Two all-nighters? Three? I won’t drag you into bed when you collapse on your desk.”
Kaveh stood with a groan, rolling his eyes and heading for the kitchen to brew some coffee, ready to work on those blueprints. It was fine, always is. He’d simply had to take his own vision back a little. The client is always right and Kaveh was here to fulfill their wish, not his selfish desires for beauty and aesthetics. The architect grabbed the steaming mug and the blueprints still on the table, returning to his own room to work. Everything was fine, the building was still looking beautiful. He can do it.
-
Soft moonlight shone through the window in the living room, a desk lamp illuminating the warm Karmaphala table littered with sketches and reference material. Kaveh sat on one of the divans, a portable wooden drawing surface propped up on his knees. Alhaitham was seated across the table on the other divan, enjoying another book he had bought today at the bazaar. In the past few days, Kaveh’s health had deteriorated, not unlike his emotional state. At the moment the architect was lost in his work, scribbling and sketching on the wooden tablet, and Alhaitham kept glancing over. The coffee sitting on the table had long gone cold and Kaveh must have lost track of time yet again. It was one of those rare free days for the Acting Grand Sage, finally able to relax a bit at his own home and Kaveh had kept him company in the living room, although not without his work. Hours had passed as they sat on the divan, one sketching the day away while the other read one book after the other. The silence was comforting.
Until now. As Alhaitham glanced at Kaveh yet again he could see the other slightly swaying, the pen resting on the paper beneath it unmoving. The architect’s eyelids kept drooping, his shoulders and head slumping forward before jerking backward again, trying desperately to keep working. Alhaitham remained silent, simply watching his Senior struggle against exhaustion. Not long after, Kaveh’s eyelids fluttered shut one last time, his body slumping forward, the hand holding the pen going slack. With a sigh Alhaitham set his book aside, rising from the divan to remove the wooden tablet from his knees and lying Kaveh down in a more comfortable position. Grabbing a blanket from the pile of pillows nearby the Scribe leaned down, gently draping it over the sleeping form of the architect. “I told you I won’t drag you to bed.” As he rose Alhaitham noticed the blueprint Kaveh was working on, gently removing it from the tablet to get a better look. The building depicted was gorgeous, no questions asked. Even he could tell without any artistic talent. But it looked a lot more muted and clinical than the first iteration he had seen a week ago. So Kaveh had backed down again, swallowing his own ideas and brilliant vision to accommodate the client. Alhaitham placed the drawing back down and observed the slow rise and fall of his Senior’s chest. The horrible eye bags had grown in size and Kaveh looked ashen and small underneath the blanket. What would it take for Alhaitham’s words to reach the stubborn architect?
Things had not improved. Kaveh kept working tirelessly on the commission, coming back more depressed and desperate after every meeting. After one of these Alhaitham finally had enough and confronted the architect as he stumbled out of the foyer and into the living room.
“When was the last time you ate something?”
Confused, Kaveh raised his head, staring into teal eyes that sternly eyed him from top to bottom. “I’ll eat when I need to. What are you, my nanny?” he replied with a groan, bleary crimson eyes returning the gaze with indignation. Kaveh tried to push past the Scribe, only to be blocked and pushed back into the foyer. “Move, Alhaitham. I don’t have time for this, I need to-”
“-work. I know.” The Scribe finished the sentence, not budging. “I’ve watched you grovel before that client for weeks now. Do you even realize how often you’ve redrawn that structure?”
A small laugh escaped Kaveh’s throat as he lowered his head, hand combing through his hair.
“Oh, I know. I’ve been the one drawing it after all. It’s fine, that’s the cost of my occupation. But you wouldn’t understand. Just let me through already. I’ll make a coffee and grab some snacks on my way, alright?” Alhaitham knew this behavior. Kaveh was almost docile, downtrodden from the constant pressure to please the client. If this didn’t stop soon the architect would spiral.
“Please?” A hand went to loosely grip Alhaitham's top, Kaveh’s head still hanging between two limp shoulders. “Just… let me go and work. Okay?”
The Scribe gently removed the hand and stepped aside with a sigh. “But I’ll check if you’ve eaten in an hour.” Kaveh simply nodded, dragging his feet to the kitchen.
-
He was so exhausted. Kaveh took another sip from the cold and bitter coffee, hands combing through his hair in desperation. His eyes stung and burned, and every limb felt like lead. A small oil lamp and the moonlight from outside were the only sources of light that kept him company in the darkness of night. The floor around him was littered with sketches and designs, all rejected by his client for being 'too ambitious and extravagant'.
At first, Kaveh had pushed back, had tried to voice his opinion. But he was quickly shot down and finally conceded. Kaveh stared at the current sketch in front of him. This wasn’t a masterpiece at all. It wasn’t even anything inspiring. The structure was bland, boring, safe. There was no passion, no personal touch. Why had he even been hired? For his title? The prestige that came with flaunting the Light of Kshahrewar had built that structure? Kaveh grits his teeth in frustration, placing the sketch to the side. No, he would try again, he would conjure a blueprint so brilliant, so captivating the client simply had to love it. This wasn’t the time to give up.
Downing the last of his cold coffee Kaveh went back to work, with new inspiration and vigor.
“What in Archon’s name is this, Mr. Kaveh?” The blueprint was roughly thrown back across the table at the Puspa Café. A young man sat across from Kaveh, folding his arms and leaning back in the chair. The architect took a deep breath, plastering on his brightest smile.
“Why, these are the blueprints! I’ve really poured my heart into them, keeping your lovely family in mind while keeping the safety of your workplace intact. It’s practical and pleasing on the eyes, one of my best works yet, Sir Bezhad!”
The other man stared at him for a moment before leaning back in, pointer finger tapping on the table with irritation. “We’ve been over this. I don’t want all this flourish and pointless drabble on my house. The design we talked about last time was perfect. Please refrain from these childish decisions.” Kaveh’s heart sank. Pointless? How could that stubborn oaf not see the brilliance in design and form? Why should this house look like any other Sumerian building, just more pompous? Kaveh let out a nervous laugh before the words slipped from his lips: “But why hire me then? Every other Kshahrewar graduate could conceive the villa you wish for.”
At that, Bezhad laughed heartily for a few moments before realizing the question had been serious. He waved a hand dismissively as he replied: “For the prestige, of course! It seems like you don’t know the value your title holds. I’ll be respected and admired by the upper society of Sumeru if I can flaunt around that the Light of Kshahrewar has built my mansion!” Another belly laugh.
Something inside Kaveh shattered. Of course. Why had he ever thought that his work was sought after because of his own touch? Because of his own spin on the buildings, his ideas, and creative visions for the final product. No, all his client wanted was his title.
It’s fine. The payment is amazing. He needs to pay his debt. He needs to pay rent. It would be fine. The next project will surely utilize his talents.
“I understand. I’ll have the previous iteration of the blueprint finished by tomorrow night. Let’s meet up in two day’s time.” Bezhad gave a nod as Kaveh gathered the sketch with a wide smile, seeing the client off, and returning home. Once he had closed the door to his room behind him, Kaveh threw the sketch at the wall, a silent wail escaping his lips as he slid down with his back to the door. Kaveh buried his head inside his arms, clinging tightly to his knees. All he wanted was sleep. The architect lost track of time as he sat there, curled up and silently crying until the sound of the front door opening snapped him out of his stupor. He had to pull himself together, Alhaitham would only confront him again. Quickly, Kaveh dried the tears with his sleeve and sat back down at the drawing table. No time to mope. He just had to finish this commission. He could do it. Everything was fine.
-
Later that night Alhaitham peeked through the slit of Kaveh’s door, slightly ajar to show the oil lamp burning away. The architect was crumpled over the drawing desk, head between his arms as he softly snored. Alhaitham stepped closer to inspect the sleeping Blonde only to be greeted by puffy red eyes, a face full of ink and charcoal specks, and a spilled coffee mug on the side table. The blueprint underneath seemed unharmed and Alhaitham carefully removed it to set it aside and into safety.
It didn’t escape his notice that the building depicted was looking like any other Sumerian mansion, there was nothing indicating that it was made by the Light of Kshahrewar, by Kaveh. He also noticed the many sketches on the ground, some crossed out with a generous amount of red paint. All of them more inspired and beautiful than the next.
“What a waste.” The Scribe mumbled as he draped a blanket over the architect, as always. He quickly cleaned the spilled coffee before leaving quietly, closing the door behind him.