Chapter Text
Most of Kaveh’s bad decisions were formed in the Grand Bazaar.
A certain friend – no, former friend – no, roommate – always made sure Kaveh was well aware of his less than ideal spending habits when he would stroll the bustling marketplace. Of course, Kaveh did feel a bit of guilt, spending money that he didn’t have on things that he didn’t need, but there was always a moment of fleeting satisfaction that he got when he would come back home with a new lamp, a pack of exorbitantly priced pencils (“It’s for sketching, I need the expensive ones, Alhaitham!”), and a new hair accessory that he would wear for a week before inevitably returning to the red clips and blue feather that was his staple.
But that was besides the point, because Kaveh made a good decision at the Grand Bazaar today.
It started on one of his normal strolls – he had just gotten a nice payment from a client, and Kaveh wanted to stop by the Grand Bazaar before he went home. He passed by the usual shopkeepers, nothing really catching his eye at first. However, he was just about to leave when he saw a new stall set up, and a crowd of people around it.
Intrigued by the crowd, Kaveh approached the stall, and now saw the woman behind the table was in Fontainian dress – a traveling merchant, perhaps – and the crowd of people were all watching some sort of moving picture displayed on the back wall of the stall.
Huh… Kaveh had never seen anything like it before. It looked like some kind of projection technology, similar to what he developed using Mehrak. However, whatever had captivated the crowd was far more advanced — it was more colorful and reminiscent of photographs from a Kamera, if they could move and have sound.
Kaveh couldn’t help himself. He gestured to the traveling merchant. “Excuse me, miss, could you tell me more about this you’re selling here? I've never seen anything like it."
“Of course,” she said with a smile. “This is a common Fontanian device called a projector. It can project all sorts of films onto a wall or other flat surfaces. Were you interested?”
“Films… That’s right, those are what the moving pictures are!” Kaveh exclaimed with glee. Back when he was an Akademiya student, he had learned in his Kshahrewar classes that films were just being developed in Fontaine. He remembered being in awe of the technology, and had privately hoped that it would spread to Sumeru someday, despite the fact that it would probably get suppressed just as much as any other form of entertainment.
“You’re a knowledgeable one, huh?” said the merchant. “It’s a one-of-a-kind technology, you know. The model I have here is exceedingly rare because of its ease-of-use.”
Kaveh, confused, asked, “What makes it easy to use?”
“This is a special model — an at-home projector. I don’t know if you’ve been to Fontaine, but most films are shown in theaters for a large audience, so the majority projectors only exist at theaters. However, this was designed so that people could watch films in the comfort of their home.”
“At their house? Wow, that’s fantastic! So I don't need anything else to make it work, I just need to buy that, right?” Kaveh was practically itching to buy the device. No doubt it would be expensive, but he couldn’t wait to tinker on it and see how it worked. “Do you mind telling me more? I graduated from Kshahrewar, so I can’t help but be interested in these things, haha. I’m mainly an architect, but I have a lot of respect for the engineers that design these sorts of products,” he rambled.
“Kshahrewar, you say?” said the merchant, her expression thoughtful. “There’s a lot of Akademiya scholars like yourself all around Fontaine, you know. One of my friends, she's graduated from Kshahrewar, and she's also an architect too. But more about the projector— ”
“Wait, sorry, you know another architect from Kshahrewar? One living in Fontaine?” Kaveh cut in.
“Oh, yes. Do you know her? Her name’s Faranak. Anyway…”
Kaveh hardly heard the rest of the merchant’s words. He couldn't remember the last time he had heard his mother's name like this in passing. It had been several years since she had moved to Fontaine, and Kaveh hadn’t spoken to her at all since then. After her remarriage and wedding, he had been too busy to keep in contact with her and by the time he wanted to reach out, he was worried that it was too late. He didn’t even know what he would say to her, or whether she would care to hear it. Hi Mom, I’m so broke I’m living in my former best friend’s home because even he, the guy that everyone thinks feels nothing, has started to pity me. There was no use making his mother worried over details in his life.
“... and that’s why the at-home projector is at a record low price! So, will you buy it?”
Kaveh stared at the woman, still reeling from her words from earlier. “Sorry,” he said again. “I’m— I’m just— you know Faranak? My mother? How do you know her?”
“She’s your mother?” said the merchant in surprise. “Now that I think about it, you two do look alike. Well, that’s great! I’ll even give you a discount! Oh, and as for how I know her… I actually worked with her! She helped build the set for one of the films I’m selling. On that note, I’m also selling the film Mound! It’s about a man named Aul Patreides who goes to the desert… You might like it!”
“That’s the film my mother worked on?” Kaveh said.
The merchant nodded enthusiastically.
“I’ll take it," Kaveh announced without another thought. "And I’ll take the projector too.”
“Ooh, two items! Well, normally I would charge you 500,000 Mora, but since I know your mom I’ll only charge 200,000!”
Archons, that was still really expensive. But Kaveh didn’t care; in fact, he felt like he had struck the jackpot. A rare device and a film his mother had worked on? There was no way Kaveh could say no. He fished out the Mora and paid up, scarcely realizing that he had barely enough to pay. Meanwhile, the pleased merchant explained the inner workings of the projector, and how to insert the film to play it. Kaveh couldn’t wait to go home and try it out for himself. Who cared that he had only 50 Mora left in his pocket and couldn’t pay for dinner?
Alhaitham came home later that evening, carrying two boxes of takeout. However, the front door and the wall around it were exactly where Kaveh had been aiming the projector that he had been messing around with. Alhaitham squinted and frowned at the source of the light, moving out of the way. “Is that a new light you’ve purchased?”
“No,” Kaveh said. “It’s a projector. I bought it at the Grand Bazaar.”
“A… projector?" Alhaitham eyed the device suspiciously, with a raised eyebrow. "Like the ones in Fontaine?”
“Mhm. I was watching Mound before you rudely got in the way.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have put it facing the front door around the time I normally come home.”
“Ugh, you –!”
“Anyway, dinner?” Alhaitham cut in before Kaveh could get annoyed. He held up the boxes of takeout. “I got it from Lambad’s Tavern.”
Considering how little money Kaveh had now, he’d take what he could get. “Sure, sure, I’ll be there in a second…” He tried to figure out how to stop the projector, and then joined Alhaitham in the kitchen.
“Mound, huh?” Alhaitham said as they ate. “What is it about?”
Kaveh furrowed his brow. Since when was he interested in anything Kaveh did? Maybe it was just an academic curiosity in the device itself, or the film culture in Fontaine. But when Kaveh saw Alhaitham’s expression, he looked almost excited. There was an uncharacteristic glimmer in his eye. Which was weird. That guy was never excited about anything. He could probably be told he was winning a million dollars tomorrow and the man would still wake up the next day and do his morning routine as slow as he always did (which was really slow, because he was always hogging the bathroom when Kaveh needed it, seriously, what was wrong with this guy?).
“I haven’t watched it all. It’s about, uh, some guy that goes to the desert. His name is, um, Paul…?”
“You mean Aul. I figured it would be based on the book. How interesting…”
“What? What do you mean, book? It’s a film,” said Kaveh, narrowing his eyes.
“Mound was a book first. I read it a while ago, back at the Akademiya. It’s quite interesting, actually. A lot of aspects were inspired by Deshret’s reign, even though it was written by a Fontainian.”
“You—! Besides, I thought you hated fiction books!” Kaveh exclaimed.
Alhaitham tilted his head. “I don’t ‘hate’ any genre.”
“You always complain about how banal fiction is, though.”
“Recently, it’s felt that way, but I think it’s because of the rise of Inazuman light novels. However, Mound was very well-written. The politics and world-building discourse are—”
“Hey, you’re gonna spoil the film! Don’t tell me. I want to enjoy my mother’s contributions in peace.”
“Your mother?” Alhaitham said, his eyebrows raising. “Did she help make the film somehow?”
Oh, shit. Kaveh hadn’t meant to share that with Alhaitham, but truthfully, it had been on his mind ever since he left the Grand Bazaar. “I— yeah, the traveling merchant knew her,” he admitted, his voice growing quiet.
“Hm.”
“Don’t ‘hm’ me!” Kaveh exclaimed, anger returning to his tone.
“Hm… I don’t know how you expect me to feel about this.”
Kaveh furrowed his brow. “I mean, it’s not your business. You don’t have to feel anything about it.”
“But it is.” When Kaveh didn’t reply, Alhaitham continued. “You’ve been avoiding her for years, haven’t you?”
“Not avoiding, just—” Kaveh tried for words and found himself at a loss. “I dunno. I was too busy to write to her after her second marriage. And now it’s like… why should I? My whole life has fallen apart.”
It was silent for a moment, Kaveh’s pitiful expression staring into his plate of food.
Kaveh couldn’t bear to let his words hang in the air, so he said, “I remember promising her, before she left to Fontaine, that I would live a life she would be proud of." He scoffed. "And look at how that turned out.”
“You became an exceptional architect,” Alhaitham replied.
“No, I didn't. I’m an architect that can’t even make rent every month,” Kaveh said bitterly.
“You don’t need to tell her that. Also, you haven’t missed rent at all this year.”
“Yeah, because you keep paying for groceries and my tabs at the tavern and maintenance of the house and—” Kaveh sighed. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. It’s not fair, y’know. Not fair at all.”
Alhaitham remained steadily silent. Kaveh knew he was still listening, knew that if he glanced up he would see those teal eyes fixed on him. Eventually, Alhaitham said, “If you want my advice, I still think it’s worth a chance writing to her. The worst thing that could happen is she doesn’t reply.”
“It’s just… complicated,” Kaveh muttered. “Even if I wanted to write to her… I don’t even know her address. I don’t know anything about her, or her husband. She has a whole new family and probably forgot all about me.”
Alhaitham finished eating and stood up to wash his hands. Before he turned the sink on, he said, “You’re making excuses. And if you keep doing that, you’ll never write to her.”
“Ugh, don’t put it that way. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re right. I can’t.”
Something about Alhaitham’s tone made Kaveh pause. Kaveh stood up and turned to his roommate, realizing his error. “No, that’s not what I meant… I just… Sorry, I—”
“Don’t apologize.” Alhaitham turned the water off and dried his hands, then glanced back at Kaveh. “If Faranak truly still cares for you, no amount of time nor distance can ever change that.” With that, he departed to his room.
The next day, Kaveh had a few meetings with clients that took up the majority of his day, so he came back just before dinnertime. He noticed Alhaitham was nowhere to be found, which was quite unlike the scribe. Normally, he came straight home after work, and it was highly unlikely for him to deviate from that routine.
Humming quietly to himself, Kaveh relished the empty house and started to prepare dinner. About halfway through, he heard the front door open, and the familiar sounds of Alhaitham slipping off his boots and cloak.
“Hey, Alhaitham?” Kaveh called. “I’m making biriyani, since you finally bought more ghee last weekend.”
As he should have expected, there was no response. Kaveh put the lid on the pressure cooker and walked over to the living room, where he found Alhaitham doing his daily post-work habit of laying on the divan, his noiseless earpieces resting on the coffee table in front of him. His eyes drifted from the ceiling to Kaveh, who was standing over him with his hands on his hips.
“Did you not hear me? I don’t know what took you so long to come back, but I’m making biriyani,” Kaveh repeated.
“Hm,” Alhaitham said absently. He sat up and stretched, then fished for something in his pocket that looked like a piece of paper, which he gave to Kaveh.
Kaveh unfolded the paper. In Alhaitham’s annoyingly neat handwriting, an address was written down. “What’s this?”
“It’s your mother’s address. I got it from the traveling merchant earlier.”
Kaveh’s jaw dropped. “You what?” He looked down at the paper, then at Alhaitham, then back at the paper again. Indeed, it was a Fontainian address written down, but Kaveh could hardly believe it. “How did you find—”
“That same merchant is still selling that projector you bought. I just… happened to pass by her on my way back today, and figured she would have Faranak’s address, since you said she knew her,” Alhaitham explained. “Now you don’t have an excuse not to write to her.”
Kaveh started to open his mouth to say that first of all, the Grand Bazaar did not fall on Alhaitham’s short commute home, and second, he really didn’t have to go through all that work, and third, why was Alhaitham so intent on getting Kaveh to write to his mother, but he instead elected to stay silent when he saw Alhaitham’s ears were pink. Holy shit, Alhaitham was embarassed.
(Kaveh could count on one hand the number of times he's seen that specific tell. Once, back when they were studying at the House of Daena, one of Alhaitham's colleagues in Haravatat had asked if he was single, and despite Alhaitham's plain, dismissive, answer, his ears clearly gave away his embarrassment. Another time, after drinking too much one night, Kaveh hadn't been able stop complimenting one of Alhaitham's essays for their shared class, delighted by how the more he talked, the darker his ears became. Nowadays, he rarely saw Alhaitham like that, partly because of their more strained relationship, and partly because Alhaitham wore his noiseless earpieces more often than not.)
“Thank you,” he said instead, fighting back a pleased smile.
“It’s nothing,” Alhaitham said, tugging at his sleeves. “Go write to her now, will you?”
“Sure thing,” Kaveh said, ignoring the tightness in his chest at the daunting task. Trying to stall, he added, “But, y’know… Haravatats are the best at writing.”
Alhaitham furrowed his brow and frowned. “No, I am not writing to your mother for you.”
“I didn’t say that!” Kaveh exclaimed. “But maybe just… I dunno, look over what I write?”
There was a long silence, and Kaveh was about to tell Alhaitham to forget about it, until Alhaitham acquiesced and eventually said, “I suppose I could proofread.”
Satisfied, Kaveh agreed enthusiastically and then headed to the study to grab his paper and quill. He dipped his quill in the ink, and wrote, Dear Mother, and then stared at the rest of the blank page. How would he even start? Kaveh grappled with this question for several long minutes before he decided to write about the merchant he ran into, and how he bought the projector and film. Once he had begun, the words seemed to flow easily. There was so much to tell his mother about, after all. He was just about to start writing about what he had been up to, about the Palace of Alcazarzaray, before he heard the loud hiss of the pressure cooker.
“Can you get that?” Alhaitham called, still on the sofa, although now with a book in his hands.
"Lazy asshole," Kaveh grumbled as he got up. Alhaitham was closer to the kitchen and still never bothered to do any work.
He went to the kitchen, and after taking the lid off the pressure cooker, fragrant steam burst into the air. “That smells good,” Alhaitham noted from the living room.
“Of course it does,” Kaveh said as he turned off the pressure cooker. Among other things, he had honed his cooking skills from a young age, and it came in handy often when he wanted to butter Alhaitham up to do a favor. “Would you mind setting the table and actually making yourself useful?”
“I set it yesterday,” Alhaitham muttered, turning a page.
“Oh, well I’m so sorry, your highness, for ever asking you to do such a difficult task,” Kaveh said sarcastically.
“Glad you understand.”
“I—!” Kaveh fell for Alhaitham’s very obvious bait, and his voice grew dramatically in volume. He walked closer to Alhaitham’s spot on the sofa. “Do you realize how annoying you’re being right now? I spent the whole day running around clients, cooking dinner, and—oh yes—writing to my mother for the first time in what, five years? And you… what have you done!? Nothing, absolutely nothing!”
“If I remember correctly, I’m the reason you’ll be able to send that letter to Faranak,” Alhaitham said, hiding his smirk behind his book.
Kaveh’s frown deepened. “I knew it… I was wondering why you were doing something nice for me… but now I see it was just collateral for you to laze about now!”
A quiet laugh escaped Alhaitham despite himself.
“Are you seriously laughing at me right now!?” Kaveh exclaimed.
“You’re being quite dramatic.”
“Excuse me? I’m being quite—” Kaveh stopped himself, realizing just how loud he had gotten when he noticed Alhaitham start to reach for his earpieces. “Oh. I guess I was.”
Alhaitham dropped his hand down and smiled, a small amused curve of his lips. “I’ll stop messing with you. Let’s eat.”