[ kaveh responds. his voice is far away. distance is not only measured in metres, but in timbre and tone. kaveh speaks as if he were at the end of a long cavern, the echoes of his voice like something scattered into stardust. kaveh sounds unmade. the rasp of his voice carves through alhaitham, whose nails dig briefly into the palm of his hand before he makes them yield. the order of operations piece themselves together. kaveh's condition needs to be monitored. information must be gleaned. alhaitham's wing of the palace must be vacated. regulations must be set in place. and alhaitham cannot leave. azar would have counted for this; a surrogate must be selected. and kaveh's people must be warned. everything is not quite in that order. it is, in fact, a mere sketch of a beginning, but alhaitham's mind has already prioritised the man on the other side of the room.
the first time alhaitham had known the presentation of a heat had been his mother. he had been cloistered then, scheduling made to send him away to somewhere appropriate while she agonised behind closed doors. the second time, a young soldier crumpled in the heat of the noonday sun, and alhaitham had carried her from the training ground to the medical bay. she had been warm. she had been tree nuts and silk candy spun fresh. the vissudhans posit that alhaitham, named after the bird that takes wing, lofty, above its people, is a man untouched by the rigours of every day hassles. he is stone; he is marble. but what is often forgotten is that alhaitham is but a man. a man that bruises when hurt. a man that bleeds when cut. a man that burns when put to the torch.
it follows: blankets and warm materials to create a safer environment. food and water to be left where kaveh needs them. bedding for alhaitham, to relegate himself to the bathroom. but before that, kaveh is still lucid. there are answers that alhaitham needs. he begins to move sifting through the room in gentle, quiet motions. ]
Then I will make this brief. [ is what he says, ] When did your heat begin? Who else has been in this room? [ alhaitham brings himself to the other end of the room, where bedding has been stowed into wooden cabinets. colourful blankets, woven covers and expensive fur stoles of creatures from the far north. alhaitham gathers all of them with indiscriminate motions. ] And who is it that weathers your heats with you?
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2023-06-05 02:05 am (UTC)the first time alhaitham had known the presentation of a heat had been his mother. he had been cloistered then, scheduling made to send him away to somewhere appropriate while she agonised behind closed doors. the second time, a young soldier crumpled in the heat of the noonday sun, and alhaitham had carried her from the training ground to the medical bay. she had been warm. she had been tree nuts and silk candy spun fresh. the vissudhans posit that alhaitham, named after the bird that takes wing, lofty, above its people, is a man untouched by the rigours of every day hassles. he is stone; he is marble. but what is often forgotten is that alhaitham is but a man. a man that bruises when hurt. a man that bleeds when cut. a man that burns when put to the torch.
it follows: blankets and warm materials to create a safer environment. food and water to be left where kaveh needs them. bedding for alhaitham, to relegate himself to the bathroom. but before that, kaveh is still lucid. there are answers that alhaitham needs. he begins to move sifting through the room in gentle, quiet motions. ]
Then I will make this brief. [ is what he says, ] When did your heat begin? Who else has been in this room? [ alhaitham brings himself to the other end of the room, where bedding has been stowed into wooden cabinets. colourful blankets, woven covers and expensive fur stoles of creatures from the far north. alhaitham gathers all of them with indiscriminate motions. ] And who is it that weathers your heats with you?