[ alhaitham speaks words that only he would dare, and for once, kaveh finds himself not falling for them. it does not, after all, have anything to do with the quality of paper, and it almost, just almost, makes kaveh feel superior. as though this is a piece of knowledge he has that alhaitham does not. it wouldn't be entirely surprising — it is, after all, something he has learned from being an architect, designer, artist. has the prince of vissudha ever bothered to touch a sketchpad, and feel its papers?
kaveh sighs, hand still out. ]
Uncoated paper and embossed paper are entirely different. Parchment, for your letters, is far thinner, more malleable. Linen paper is thicker, textured. I can't use those. [ he gestures with his fingers. ] If you fancy reading so much, I'm sure there are books on different types of papers. I don't have to give you a lecture. Now, give me. I won't stand here all evening.
[ alhaitham, who had been tutored by the haravatat, and whose work on archival reforms continues to influence the preservation of runes, relics and books from ages long past using techniques synthesizes from corners of teyvat, who has a pair of archival-grade gloves sitting in his desk drawer for handling paper that cannot be handled by normal means in uncontrolled conditions - smiles. alhaitham's smiles start with the eyes. the crinkle of its edges soften the curve of his cheek, lines itself down the pull of his shoulders and the shifting of his body. the smile does not make it to his lips. it never has. the amusement shifts his grip on his pen, which he finally puts down.
kaveh, who asserts he doesn't have to give alhaitham a lecture, speaks of paper. alhaitham picks up a sheet. uncoated parchment, pressed from the untanned skins of sheep from the rolling hills of mondstadt, treated with cecilia flower extract that maintains basic malleability for soaking in ink, and presents a floral scent. he holds it up to kaveh. ]
And I suppose you will also complain that your current inks cannot be used? A former prince is difficult to keep indeed.
[ a dismissive flick of his fingers. the inks on the table have already been laid out: a fine, dark pigment with an animal glue base from mondstadt, a peacock blue ground fine with minerals from liyue wafting with the scent of soot, a muted ocher ground with bone meant for needle-point. ]
[ not former, he would have had half the mind to reply, but kaveh does not. he takes the paper, eyes the inks. none of them will serve their purpose. kaveh huffs through his nose, and returns to his divan.
there, between charcoal and graphite, he fetches the later. it will work on parchment, and would cause no harm. he lays it on top of his sketchpad for support, and sets to write. it is, after all, a short message of gratitude for the flower. kaveh makes a promise to return it to elham once the flower blooms, which it will, he promises as well. he would tend to it until it does, and waxes poetry on its meaning. it seals the reassurance he wanted to provide her with.
in typical lokapalan dialect, at the bottom, he adds: burn this letter at your earliest convenience, and if you are not able to do so, tear it and swallow it. do not give room to others to find it. i will be speaking with akram and kurash. you may rely on them. linen paper wouldn't do, nor would ink or charcoal.
he stands again. ]
Send for Azadeh. As long as this letter makes it to Elham unintercepted, it should be fine. You know I wouldn't dare put her in harm's way.
[ that is to say, it is not a letter he wants others to read. ]
[ a missive not meant to last, then. kaveh gets to work; alhaitham finishes his. he does not look up until kaveh approaches once more. with the imperative tones of nobility, looking down on his nose. alhaitham, who is amused, considers the way kaveh looks. he then reaches for a sheathe of feathers that sit on his desk. blue, green, in the way of fanned peacocks and the imperious crown of lyrebirds - he takes one feather from the stack, and hands it to kaveh.
a shoulderless shrug: ]
There is no need to bother me every time you wish to send for her. There is a pneumatic tube by the door. Put the feather through. It will reach her, and she will be here.
[ the permission is implicit - do as you like. alhaitham's authority in this is conferred to kaveh. ]
[ kaveh stares. alhaitham speaks, and kaveh thinks, how easy would it be to forget what he is meant to be? had it not been the walls that confine him to a room not designed by him (pir kavikavus' designs had been inspiration for his own, still), the scenery outside his window that is not one he grew up in, the presence that haunts him day after day, kaveh would have soon forgotten he is, still, held captive, a slave.
later, as he lies on the divan, he would wonder, why bother igniting the flames of his stubbornness, if he is meant to submit? it is not yet time to ponder such thoughts.
kaveh takes the feather without a word, and as told, slips it through the tube. it does not take long at all for that same servant with the swaying skirt to knock on the door and let herself in, with that selfsame deference. kaveh notes here that he's becoming fonder of her, little by little. he proceeds to apologize for calling her so late, entrusts her the letter, asks if it could be delivered to elham with the utmost care. she reassures him alongside a bow, and kaveh thanks her as she makes her way out.
he is, indeed, becoming fonder of her. he's yet unsure how good of a thing that is. ]
[ azadeh bows, her skirts swaying as she departs. alhaitham has known her since childhood. she is trustworthy. this is not said lightly. but the knowledge of trust and the reality of the vissudha have always been two sides of a coin. there is simply a fundamental truth: whatever that alhaitham trusts is what azar will take away. he has not done so in some time. azadeh has been careful. but alhaitham has a contingency for when azar's eyes inevitably fall upon her; that day, he supposes that kaveh will blame him for it, too. that is none of his concern. from the day he enacted his plan, sitting on his throne observing the eleventh man in the room, alhaitham had known - he will bear blame. it hardly matters, for what he is about to accomplish.
the final missive is sealed, and signed. alhaitham leaves them in a pile on his desk; they can be tended to in the morning. kaveh addresses him once more, and he lets his pen rest as he stretches out his left hand. first thumb, then index, then in order the rest. his palm braces against air. alhaitham breathes out. he reaches for a book. ]
In two days' time. [ is what alhaitham says, as he flips the first page of a book entitled 'treatise of etymons from deshret-era runes'. his attention finds focus - that does not mean, however, there is less attention for kaveh. ] Both have been told there will be a meeting. Tomorrow, they will know when, and where, as will you.
[ two days. he would have time to revise what to say to either of them, the flame of stubbornness burning their hottest. he would sit on his divan, plan out several different ways their conversation could go, what words to say, which ones would make the most impact. it is, he knows, a prince-like mindset. he hasn't lost his touch just yet.
akram and kurash. he digs through the shelves of his mind for the information he has on them. ]
They're fraternal twins. Kurash is a retired guard, and he tended to our stables. Animals always seem rather fond of him. He preferred a quiet life, which his brother didn't quite agree.
[ kaveh had overseen the guards' training one day, only to hear akram vent about his goals and hopes for the future. he wants kurash to return to the guard, and would do so by force if he had to — which then meant he would have to train to surpass him, despite being the elder brother. ]
Akram was, of course, one of our guards. He's talented, albeit a tad emotional. As a Lokapala-born, he has a heart of gold. I've always thought he could easily succeed in whatever he puts his mind to, but he has always been set on the way of the sword. He means well.
[ and that alone, of course, brings rise to feelings of worry. he knows kurash could fend for himself, but how has akram been faring? that, too, is something to consider when he meets with them. ]
[ fraternal twins. retired guard, and emotional guard. inefficient, alhaitham thinks. it is not the first time he has had that thought. the ali qapu, crimson jewel of the vissudha, is a machine run on inefficiencies. neither individual were screened for their skills upon entering slavehood; both were simply assessed based on their physicality and presenting gender, and not for what they were capable of contributing. azar has never seen slaves as anything less than animal. it had not been worthwhile to ask after their immediate strengths; moving more than just elham through the channels into an appropriate role had already been just within alhaitham's risk tolerance. that does not mean long-term adjustments can't be done; they simply must be done with intentionality.
but he listens. kaveh's assessment of his people always follows as thus: their skills, their temperament, his opinion. ]
Akram has been assigned to the stables. Kurash to the kitchens. [ kaveh will learn this later. there would be no real detriment towards him doing so; there is not, as a matter of fact, anything he can do with the information, nor will it be conducive to him sleeping at night. so alhaitham does not say: that akram has been taken to the lash on the regular, for his temper. he is gentle with the horses, but not with the rider of the horses. he lives with that deficet. instead, what alhaitham says, is this: ] The Lokapalan desserts, or so I have gathered, is Kurash's suggestion.
[ kaveh listens, because it's the only thing he can do. listen, and retain information, and bear the weight of guilt. akram, alhaitham starts, has been assigned to the stables. akram, whose fingers bear calluses deeper than half of lokapala's, has been tasked to handling animals so easy to scare. akram, emotional, kind-hearted akram, with a temper as short as the lives of the butterflies that surround the alcazarzaray come spring, has been assigned to deal with horses, and their riders, vissudha-born. he wonders for a moment, has akram been punished for his sharp tongue? the thought is haunting, and alhaitham continues.
kurash, he says, to the kitchens. kurash is level-headed. kurash, kaveh believes, or brings himself to believe, wouldn't see himself to trouble. kurash, alhaitham adds, had suggested lokapalan desserts, the same that kaveh had loathed to eat, and loathed to keep in his body.
of course. it would make sense. kaveh, in his spite, in his anger, ever so blinding, had believed them to be a mockery. had believe the desserts to be made by vissudhan hands, suggested by vissudhan people, with no care, guidance, or worry for their meaning and history.
the color drains from kaveh's face, and he sits on the divan. ]
I... I see. That's— I will keep it in mind. [ akram, the stables. kurash, the kitchens. when was the last time they met? ] Will I have one hour with them as well?
[ guilt worries away at kaveh's fierce temper. it has him drained of colour against his divan. alhaitham observes. nothing will bring kaveh comfort. not for guilt. it has only been a handful of days since the death of his people and the fall of his country. it follows that his mood will swing; anyone would. but kaveh and guilt have lived side by side since the earliest of days. this, alhaitham knows, because he has met kaveh. once as a child. once at his coming of age. once, elsewhere, in a story that is lost to time, one that only alhaitham remembers. everyone knows the story of the depression that took hold of lokapala's queen. everyone knows how kaveh, the architect, the brilliant sunburst of the lokapala, had sought to make her smile.
today, kaveh sits on the divan and begins to contemplate. alhaitham observes the spiral. it's obvious what he is thinking. he turns another page in his book. ]
Yes. [ alhaitham answers the question first, ] One hour, for both of them. Take care to let them leave early, as always - both have far to travel through the palace to return to their posts. The meeting will be at night. There are no other details. Like I said, you will know tomorrow, though you should prepare as much as you. An hour is brief when there are two.
[ an hour is brief enough with just one of your dispossessed citizens.
he continues, in that same voice - but quieter, perhaps, the words carrying across the room: ] Your guilt is misplaced. You did not know.
[ one hour for two, who must travel far through the castle to return to their posts. kaveh thinks, then, that he only has half an hour instead. half an hour to reassure them of his safety, to rekindle their hope, and to hear about their days, so he may carry their burden, as a prince should.
your guilt is misplaced, alhaitham speaks, and kaveh looks away. of course he knows of it. kaveh only wishes he were not so transparent, that emotions did not show clear on his face, that his actions were unseen by all. but kaveh, so honest to a fault, so sincere in his pain, does not know how to sharpen his mask against someone who sees right through it. ]
I will be careful. [ is what he says first. half an hour. kaveh would hate to endanger his people further than he already has.
then, quieter as well, with a voice that speaks of guilt: ] ... Could you, um, let the kitchen servants know that the dessert was well-received, and to send for more come dinner?
[ a small solace, he thinks, and a favor he's loathe to ask of alhaitham. but if there's praise from the crown prince, then it would do kurash well. ]
[ a quieter voice, like the vestiges of smoke. alhaitham, who does not believe that kaveh ought to dim the flame of his existence for anyone, merely sighs into his book. but he lets kaveh finish - this is something that is needed. for kaveh to speak his mind, for kaveh to figure out what he needs to do, for kaveh to find his bearing. one cannot survive solely on the flames of anger; one cannot live solely on the tears of regret. but one can find a balance in order to move forward. this, alhaitham does not only know in theory. he, too, understands the slaves beneath the high-vaulted ceilings of the ali qapu. it is sympathy, not empathy - but this, too, must be enough.
being asked for a favour is not surprising, not in the wake of the small revelation between the marble columns of alhaitham's room. ]
Am I a mouthpiece for the prince in my room, now? [ is what alhaitham says, ] Or did you forget how to speak to those of lower rank? Or have you finally accepted your status as a slave, and no longer feel worthy of speaking to servants? Which is it? Either way, your ability to use language seems unimpeded; the kitchen staff will be here in the morning with our breakfast. You may pass along your message then, if you still have the courage to do so.
[ because the only way to balance guilt is with fury. ]
[ indeed, the only way to balance guilt is with fury, and alhaitham excels at setting alight the flame of kaveh's fury.
kaveh is, after all, a humble prince. lokapala sees her people as equals, and kaveh behaves as such. the servants who once tended to the palace of alcazarzaray, he saw as family. the brothers and sisters of the sun, whose faces and names he keeps close to heart. he has not forgotten how to speak of those of lower rank, because kaveh has never acknowledged such a thing. he has not, either, accepted that he is a slave, for the flame of stubbornness burns much brighter than the one of fury.
kaveh clicks his tongue. the answer is, then, obvious. ]
You are their prince, not I. Your word is of far more importance than mine. What does it matter if I praise them, but you berate their craft? Whose opinion do you think they would take to heart?
[ kaveh clicks his tongue, as if contending with a particularly stubborn horse. the sound resounds throughout the bedchamber. alhaitham allows him to do so. he turns another page of his book; the line of his book hides a not-smile, one that begins with the curve of alhaitham's eyes, and ends along the shifting of his shoulders. it never quite makes it to his mouth. it has never needed to. it has always been enough for alhaitham to know for himself that he is amused.
instead: ]
First: your argument relies on the premise that I have berated their craft. On which day and at which meal did I do so? If you are accusing me of such behaviour, should you not have the evidence to back up your claim?
Second: which is best received, the words said for the sake of them, or words said with sincerity? Or have the Lokapalans always preferred lip service to heart-worthy praise? The difference in cultures between our kingdoms must be wider than anticipated.
[ the more alhaitham speaks, the more his guilt washes away. at times, kaveh finds he almost loathes the sound of alhaitham's voice. he speaks, and there's berating, there's arguing, there's poking and prodding at matters that should never concern him. time and time again, kaveh feels as though he is in the center of a room covered in mirrors, and there is nowhere to hide.
he shouldn't have asked anything of alhaitham. there is no worth in letting go of pride. ]
Do the Vissudhans have no respect for their prince, if words from his personal slave weight the same? [ kaveh bites back, the burning red of his eyes shooting daggers at alhaitham's visage. ] What need is there for caste, then, if between the Ali Qapu's walls, your servants hold pride in a slave's praise?
[ caste, says kaveh, with the imperious tones of someone who has never believed in it. this, alhaitham knows. for the lokapalans, there is no other word more distasteful, no other concept more wretched. the brothers and sisters beneath the sun, so they were called. a province of sumeru that abhorred slavery, that had prince and stablehand dine at the same table, with the same utensils, and the same camaraderie. alhaitham understands the concept as well as he understands the limitations. rank is a form of discrimination. from the start, it would have been impossible for the lokapalan stablehand to hire guards for his household the same way his prince did. it would have been impossible for the serving staff of a lokapalan palace to wear the quality of gems that kaveh did, with the frequency that he did. it would have been impossible for the cook to have the expensive education that kaveh did, with the people that he learned from.
the existence of the vissudha castes simply call out this form of inequality and inequity. neither systems boast perfection. but the importance, alhaitham knows, is spiritual. the lack of caste in lokapalan frees the soul of the common man. the caste system in vissudha guarantees hope for the next samsara. but that is a religous man's argument. alhaitham, who has never believed in the grace of the greater or lesser lords, looks to kaveh. ]
Are you reluctant to praise them yourself because you fear they will not respect your opinion, or are you reluctant because you, yourself, have too much pride?
[ and then, ] Regardless, in Vissudha, the words from the household of the prince hold the same authority as the prince. You will speak with my authority. My personal slave should still remember how to command that much, does he not?
[ neither, kaveh thinks. for once, he finds himself outside of alhaitham's intruding gaze. neither, neither, neither. he's not seen. his heart is safe behind walls, his intentions behind a mask. is it because kaveh is learning and adapting to this life he has been forced to live, or because he's slowly trying to understand the ins and outs of alhaitham's reasoning?
neither. perhaps, he thinks, it's simply because they're different people, of different blood, from different cultures. a kingdom of faux equality, and a kingdom that does not lie to its people on where they are in the pyramid of life.
the trishiraite red of kaveh's eyes do not look away, for once. they burn brighter, if anything, with the flame of anger. it is cynicism when he speaks the words that he had, but when alhaitham calls him the same, his personal slave, kaveh grits his teeth. it's a wound that has yet to close, and won't for a long time. ]
And the limits of my 'authority' are? [ he does not, after all, trust leaving this room. he does not trust being able to see the ali qapu's waterfalls, the gardens, stroll around a palace made of marble. to say kaveh has any authority at all is unthinkable. they do not lie to their people in lokapala. they would never dare give them such false sense of hope. ] Your servants may bring me food if I personally request it, but how far will they go? Would your guards listen to me? Am I to believe I have half the same freedom as you do?
[ the phrasing has hit home. alhaitham looks. kaveh's fury simmers. he, too, will someday burn out. all those within the ali qapu's walls are fated to do so. but that does not mean, however, that there no longer exists flame. you have to ration your anger. alhaitham knows this better than anyone. he will continue to know this, long after all else has burned out. there are certain things you cannot let go of, lest you lose your way. one must have something they are willing to hold onto until the very end. his grandmother had taught him so.
still, kaveh's anger is expelled through word and motion, the crystalline dagger of his eyes. the poems describe the eastern rose as red; today, the angle of kaveh's head brings out the cooler shades of it, the pink of which is like blood in water. it is, however, beside the point. ]
Why? [ alhaitham asks. there are no side-paths that he is willing to embark on. not in this argument. see - ] Do not deflect. Must you have the same freedoms as I before you can allow yourself to praise your own people?
[ because the slaves in the kitchen are kaveh's people. because kaveh needs not ask alhaitham to praise them for him. ]
Praise your own people, or don't. It matters little to me. But do not conflate it with your perceived sense of agency. I will not be your excuse not to. [ alhaitham's gaze is hard, the green of an emerald mine, the red of a blood diamond: ] You know this better than I, Kaveh.
[ no, he thinks again. of course he doesn't need that false sense of freedom. he would praise them time and time again — he did, before, with elham, and will continue to do so. he will praise them for staying safe, for not losing hope. he will praise their skills, will praise them even for the perfect way they may blink their eyes. praise, after all, has always lived easily on the tip of kaveh's tongue, for those who deserve it.
he would, kaveh thinks, praise them even if he would end up being lashed for it. ]
Answer me. If I'm supposed to hold about as much authority as you do, then where does my freedom lie? May I see fit to punish those who hurt my people? May I order your guards around? Tell me.
And who here has diverted the point? Did this conversation begin with authority in mind, or praise?
[ kaveh's voice rises. alhaitham observes. the conversation spirals, from beginning to end and the end to beginning. but it is a conversation worth having. the act of getting to know someone is messy. it is circuitous. language is. but if language were not verbalised, it ceases to have its meaning - only by speaking thoughts aloud are you able to test its validity.
kaveh's thoughts have remained unsaid. they are now being said. alhaitham looks to him, the quirk of his brow a punctuation at the end of a wending sentence: ]
Which is the conversation you intend to have with me?
[ insufferable. absolutely insufferable, he thinks, and it works on kaveh. a conversation does not need to be streamlined, and the one he wants to have is one both are aware of the answer. he doubts he holds the same authority as the prince. it would be too much of a flawed system, and the little he knows of vissudha, he could still assume it is not something that would put into place.
he can feel the headache incoming, the way his eyes hurt from how much he has been frowning. they will continue to argue, never truly reach a conclusion, because alhaitham is too prideful, and kaveh is too stubborn. ]
You know what I'm trying to do. I don't have the same authority as you do. My praise does not hold the same weight, and your servants and guards will not listen to me the way they do you. Do you fancy feeding your people lies, so that they may believe what they think you can give them? That won't work with me.
Do I seem as if I would gain much by lying to you? [ is alhaitham's quiet rejoinder. steady, like an even-keeled boat amidst lashing waves. it occurs to alhaitham, suddenly, that kaveh lives in the future of things. the act of speaking praise is rooted in the present; the act of accepting it inhabits an uncertain future. an action can be infinitely put off if one fears not knowing the consequences. there is a phenomenon in the rainforests of sumeru wherein ants lose their way and begin to blindly follow the one in front of them. on, and on they pick up followers, until an entire colony of ants march steadily in a repeating circle, a maelstrom of bodies and footfalls. it is called the death spiral, because it only ends when the entire colony is dead.
alhaitham considers this. the page of his book turns. the sound rasps in the hush that follows.
finally, he speaks. ] Try it tomorrow, then. If you are so certain that I am deluding you, then it should be easy for you to find proof, no? Or are you so afraid of wasting your precious breath that you would not even deign to speak the words aloud to prove me wrong?
[ no, he does not. but kaveh, who learns not to trust people the hard way, does not believe those words. alhaitham would instigate him, would tell him try it tomorrow, and watch as kaveh is laughed at, mocked, touched. it could be logical to assume that yes, what reason would there be to lie about this, but finding logic amidst people he does not know is not easy. logic comes with honesty, and honesty comes with trust. kaveh does not trust alhaitham, therefore he cannot achieve that honesty.
kaveh watches, because it is all he can do. he watches, as though trying to unravel alhaitham's secrets, as though he could peel off his skin and see his heart as it is. he will continue watching, the flame of his stubbornness enough to keep him warm come winter, until he finds truth in his words. ]
Your guesses about me aren't as sharp. Don't project yourself on me. [ because kaveh would never be afraid of wasting his breath on anyone, no. he would not see it as a waste. he would, instead, willingly give it to anyone who would be happy to listen.
he sets his feet on his divan, as is routine. legs to chest, head to knees, eyes to the outside. at the very least, his body has gotten used to the position. ] If I speak to any of them, it is simply because I want to.
[ further proof, alhaitham surmises, that insults work as intended. kaveh retreats back to his divan. he curls into a form that creatures of the forest take on when they are burnt alive - head to knees, legs to chest, the slow immolation of skin and feather and bone taking their spiraling path down to the curl of protective hands. what poets will surmise is that the creature is protecting their heart. what amurta biologists know is that the creature is protecting their head. tonight, once again, kaveh has been derailed from his downward spiral of self-immolating grief. the quiet whisper of his earlier plea has morphed into the raised voice of an imperious demand. alhaitham thinks - that kaveh has not known the shape of his skin for some time. lokapala has been peeled from it. lokapala has been cloistered within him. but he is still lokapala, down to his very marrow, a prince from a society desperate to create equality from inequity, who has yet to know what to allow himself to be.
with anyone else, the answer is easy to say: alhaitham does not, in fact, care if one wishes or does not wishes to speak. but this is kaveh. it was kaveh, it has not yet been kaveh, and it will be kaveh. there were two children up in the tower, once. the tower is still there. both children are still here. two people died that day.
alhaitham breathes out from behind his book. the faint amusement in his tone says thus: ]
Of course. How could I forget. I was attempting to bar you from speaking this entire time, Prince of the Lokapala.
[ the pages flip closed. alhaitham rises. ]
I am dousing the torches. Sleep, or don't, it matters not to me. But remember - you will be meeting two more of your kin in two days' time. Consider what you will say to them; it should be easy for you, since you will want to.
[ it is at moments like this that kaveh is reminded of their differing cultures, moments like this that he is homesick, and in spite of the insults, grief and guilt are not so easy to be ridden of. they have opinions that crash and burn, they have views as different as day and night, they stand on different ends of the war. kaveh was ever so idealistic, once. young, bright like the sun, his eyes so big and so full of hope. he thought, back then, that he would certainly find a friend in other kingdom's crown princes and princesses. they are, he had once said, the same.
in a world he does not remember just yet, the chance was there, once. two children, so different yet so similar, with the unique innocence only children their age have. kaveh smiled there, extended a hand. kaveh might have made his first friend there, another princeling like him. he does not remember it, a page in the book of his life stuck between two others.
it will be seen. ]
I don't need your reminder. [ no, he does not. it will weight in his mind for the next few days, after all. it will be all day kaveh will think about, and there will not be room for forgotten memories.
night falls. it will be dark. and kaveh will have trouble sleeping, that night. ]
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Date: 2023-05-06 05:03 pm (UTC)kaveh sighs, hand still out. ]
Uncoated paper and embossed paper are entirely different. Parchment, for your letters, is far thinner, more malleable. Linen paper is thicker, textured. I can't use those. [ he gestures with his fingers. ] If you fancy reading so much, I'm sure there are books on different types of papers. I don't have to give you a lecture. Now, give me. I won't stand here all evening.
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Date: 2023-05-06 05:55 pm (UTC)kaveh, who asserts he doesn't have to give alhaitham a lecture, speaks of paper. alhaitham picks up a sheet. uncoated parchment, pressed from the untanned skins of sheep from the rolling hills of mondstadt, treated with cecilia flower extract that maintains basic malleability for soaking in ink, and presents a floral scent. he holds it up to kaveh. ]
And I suppose you will also complain that your current inks cannot be used? A former prince is difficult to keep indeed.
[ a dismissive flick of his fingers. the inks on the table have already been laid out: a fine, dark pigment with an animal glue base from mondstadt, a peacock blue ground fine with minerals from liyue wafting with the scent of soot, a muted ocher ground with bone meant for needle-point. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-06 07:21 pm (UTC)there, between charcoal and graphite, he fetches the later. it will work on parchment, and would cause no harm. he lays it on top of his sketchpad for support, and sets to write. it is, after all, a short message of gratitude for the flower. kaveh makes a promise to return it to elham once the flower blooms, which it will, he promises as well. he would tend to it until it does, and waxes poetry on its meaning. it seals the reassurance he wanted to provide her with.
in typical lokapalan dialect, at the bottom, he adds: burn this letter at your earliest convenience, and if you are not able to do so, tear it and swallow it. do not give room to others to find it. i will be speaking with akram and kurash. you may rely on them. linen paper wouldn't do, nor would ink or charcoal.
he stands again. ]
Send for Azadeh. As long as this letter makes it to Elham unintercepted, it should be fine. You know I wouldn't dare put her in harm's way.
[ that is to say, it is not a letter he wants others to read. ]
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Date: 2023-05-07 01:30 am (UTC)a shoulderless shrug: ]
There is no need to bother me every time you wish to send for her. There is a pneumatic tube by the door. Put the feather through. It will reach her, and she will be here.
[ the permission is implicit - do as you like. alhaitham's authority in this is conferred to kaveh. ]
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Date: 2023-05-07 04:58 am (UTC)later, as he lies on the divan, he would wonder, why bother igniting the flames of his stubbornness, if he is meant to submit? it is not yet time to ponder such thoughts.
kaveh takes the feather without a word, and as told, slips it through the tube. it does not take long at all for that same servant with the swaying skirt to knock on the door and let herself in, with that selfsame deference. kaveh notes here that he's becoming fonder of her, little by little. he proceeds to apologize for calling her so late, entrusts her the letter, asks if it could be delivered to elham with the utmost care. she reassures him alongside a bow, and kaveh thanks her as she makes her way out.
he is, indeed, becoming fonder of her. he's yet unsure how good of a thing that is. ]
When am I to meet Akram and Kurash?
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Date: 2023-05-07 05:21 am (UTC)the final missive is sealed, and signed. alhaitham leaves them in a pile on his desk; they can be tended to in the morning. kaveh addresses him once more, and he lets his pen rest as he stretches out his left hand. first thumb, then index, then in order the rest. his palm braces against air. alhaitham breathes out. he reaches for a book. ]
In two days' time. [ is what alhaitham says, as he flips the first page of a book entitled 'treatise of etymons from deshret-era runes'. his attention finds focus - that does not mean, however, there is less attention for kaveh. ] Both have been told there will be a meeting. Tomorrow, they will know when, and where, as will you.
Tell me of their strengths.
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Date: 2023-05-07 06:43 am (UTC)akram and kurash. he digs through the shelves of his mind for the information he has on them. ]
They're fraternal twins. Kurash is a retired guard, and he tended to our stables. Animals always seem rather fond of him. He preferred a quiet life, which his brother didn't quite agree.
[ kaveh had overseen the guards' training one day, only to hear akram vent about his goals and hopes for the future. he wants kurash to return to the guard, and would do so by force if he had to — which then meant he would have to train to surpass him, despite being the elder brother. ]
Akram was, of course, one of our guards. He's talented, albeit a tad emotional. As a Lokapala-born, he has a heart of gold. I've always thought he could easily succeed in whatever he puts his mind to, but he has always been set on the way of the sword. He means well.
[ and that alone, of course, brings rise to feelings of worry. he knows kurash could fend for himself, but how has akram been faring? that, too, is something to consider when he meets with them. ]
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Date: 2023-05-08 01:28 am (UTC)but he listens. kaveh's assessment of his people always follows as thus: their skills, their temperament, his opinion. ]
Akram has been assigned to the stables. Kurash to the kitchens. [ kaveh will learn this later. there would be no real detriment towards him doing so; there is not, as a matter of fact, anything he can do with the information, nor will it be conducive to him sleeping at night. so alhaitham does not say: that akram has been taken to the lash on the regular, for his temper. he is gentle with the horses, but not with the rider of the horses. he lives with that deficet. instead, what alhaitham says, is this: ] The Lokapalan desserts, or so I have gathered, is Kurash's suggestion.
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Date: 2023-05-12 01:34 am (UTC)kurash, he says, to the kitchens. kurash is level-headed. kurash, kaveh believes, or brings himself to believe, wouldn't see himself to trouble. kurash, alhaitham adds, had suggested lokapalan desserts, the same that kaveh had loathed to eat, and loathed to keep in his body.
of course. it would make sense. kaveh, in his spite, in his anger, ever so blinding, had believed them to be a mockery. had believe the desserts to be made by vissudhan hands, suggested by vissudhan people, with no care, guidance, or worry for their meaning and history.
the color drains from kaveh's face, and he sits on the divan. ]
I... I see. That's— I will keep it in mind. [ akram, the stables. kurash, the kitchens. when was the last time they met? ] Will I have one hour with them as well?
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Date: 2023-05-12 03:21 am (UTC)today, kaveh sits on the divan and begins to contemplate. alhaitham observes the spiral. it's obvious what he is thinking. he turns another page in his book. ]
Yes. [ alhaitham answers the question first, ] One hour, for both of them. Take care to let them leave early, as always - both have far to travel through the palace to return to their posts. The meeting will be at night. There are no other details. Like I said, you will know tomorrow, though you should prepare as much as you. An hour is brief when there are two.
[ an hour is brief enough with just one of your dispossessed citizens.
he continues, in that same voice - but quieter, perhaps, the words carrying across the room: ] Your guilt is misplaced. You did not know.
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Date: 2023-05-12 05:23 am (UTC)your guilt is misplaced, alhaitham speaks, and kaveh looks away. of course he knows of it. kaveh only wishes he were not so transparent, that emotions did not show clear on his face, that his actions were unseen by all. but kaveh, so honest to a fault, so sincere in his pain, does not know how to sharpen his mask against someone who sees right through it. ]
I will be careful. [ is what he says first. half an hour. kaveh would hate to endanger his people further than he already has.
then, quieter as well, with a voice that speaks of guilt: ] ... Could you, um, let the kitchen servants know that the dessert was well-received, and to send for more come dinner?
[ a small solace, he thinks, and a favor he's loathe to ask of alhaitham. but if there's praise from the crown prince, then it would do kurash well. ]
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Date: 2023-05-13 01:26 am (UTC)being asked for a favour is not surprising, not in the wake of the small revelation between the marble columns of alhaitham's room. ]
Am I a mouthpiece for the prince in my room, now? [ is what alhaitham says, ] Or did you forget how to speak to those of lower rank? Or have you finally accepted your status as a slave, and no longer feel worthy of speaking to servants? Which is it? Either way, your ability to use language seems unimpeded; the kitchen staff will be here in the morning with our breakfast. You may pass along your message then, if you still have the courage to do so.
[ because the only way to balance guilt is with fury. ]
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Date: 2023-05-15 03:20 am (UTC)kaveh is, after all, a humble prince. lokapala sees her people as equals, and kaveh behaves as such. the servants who once tended to the palace of alcazarzaray, he saw as family. the brothers and sisters of the sun, whose faces and names he keeps close to heart. he has not forgotten how to speak of those of lower rank, because kaveh has never acknowledged such a thing. he has not, either, accepted that he is a slave, for the flame of stubbornness burns much brighter than the one of fury.
kaveh clicks his tongue. the answer is, then, obvious. ]
You are their prince, not I. Your word is of far more importance than mine. What does it matter if I praise them, but you berate their craft? Whose opinion do you think they would take to heart?
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Date: 2023-05-15 07:57 pm (UTC)instead: ]
First: your argument relies on the premise that I have berated their craft. On which day and at which meal did I do so? If you are accusing me of such behaviour, should you not have the evidence to back up your claim?
Second: which is best received, the words said for the sake of them, or words said with sincerity? Or have the Lokapalans always preferred lip service to heart-worthy praise? The difference in cultures between our kingdoms must be wider than anticipated.
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Date: 2023-05-15 10:05 pm (UTC)he shouldn't have asked anything of alhaitham. there is no worth in letting go of pride. ]
Do the Vissudhans have no respect for their prince, if words from his personal slave weight the same? [ kaveh bites back, the burning red of his eyes shooting daggers at alhaitham's visage. ] What need is there for caste, then, if between the Ali Qapu's walls, your servants hold pride in a slave's praise?
i never got this notif wtf ????
Date: 2023-05-24 01:16 am (UTC)the existence of the vissudha castes simply call out this form of inequality and inequity. neither systems boast perfection. but the importance, alhaitham knows, is spiritual. the lack of caste in lokapalan frees the soul of the common man. the caste system in vissudha guarantees hope for the next samsara. but that is a religous man's argument. alhaitham, who has never believed in the grace of the greater or lesser lords, looks to kaveh. ]
Are you reluctant to praise them yourself because you fear they will not respect your opinion, or are you reluctant because you, yourself, have too much pride?
[ and then, ] Regardless, in Vissudha, the words from the household of the prince hold the same authority as the prince. You will speak with my authority. My personal slave should still remember how to command that much, does he not?
dw thinks we've had too much fun with gay men
Date: 2023-05-26 12:49 am (UTC)neither. perhaps, he thinks, it's simply because they're different people, of different blood, from different cultures. a kingdom of faux equality, and a kingdom that does not lie to its people on where they are in the pyramid of life.
the trishiraite red of kaveh's eyes do not look away, for once. they burn brighter, if anything, with the flame of anger. it is cynicism when he speaks the words that he had, but when alhaitham calls him the same, his personal slave, kaveh grits his teeth. it's a wound that has yet to close, and won't for a long time. ]
And the limits of my 'authority' are? [ he does not, after all, trust leaving this room. he does not trust being able to see the ali qapu's waterfalls, the gardens, stroll around a palace made of marble. to say kaveh has any authority at all is unthinkable. they do not lie to their people in lokapala. they would never dare give them such false sense of hope. ] Your servants may bring me food if I personally request it, but how far will they go? Would your guards listen to me? Am I to believe I have half the same freedom as you do?
ur not wrong tbh
Date: 2023-05-26 01:10 am (UTC)still, kaveh's anger is expelled through word and motion, the crystalline dagger of his eyes. the poems describe the eastern rose as red; today, the angle of kaveh's head brings out the cooler shades of it, the pink of which is like blood in water. it is, however, beside the point. ]
Why? [ alhaitham asks. there are no side-paths that he is willing to embark on. not in this argument. see - ] Do not deflect. Must you have the same freedoms as I before you can allow yourself to praise your own people?
[ because the slaves in the kitchen are kaveh's people. because kaveh needs not ask alhaitham to praise them for him. ]
Praise your own people, or don't. It matters little to me. But do not conflate it with your perceived sense of agency. I will not be your excuse not to. [ alhaitham's gaze is hard, the green of an emerald mine, the red of a blood diamond: ] You know this better than I, Kaveh.
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Date: 2023-05-26 02:35 am (UTC)[ no, he thinks again. of course he doesn't need that false sense of freedom. he would praise them time and time again — he did, before, with elham, and will continue to do so. he will praise them for staying safe, for not losing hope. he will praise their skills, will praise them even for the perfect way they may blink their eyes. praise, after all, has always lived easily on the tip of kaveh's tongue, for those who deserve it.
he would, kaveh thinks, praise them even if he would end up being lashed for it. ]
Answer me. If I'm supposed to hold about as much authority as you do, then where does my freedom lie? May I see fit to punish those who hurt my people? May I order your guards around? Tell me.
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Date: 2023-05-26 03:32 pm (UTC)[ kaveh's voice rises. alhaitham observes. the conversation spirals, from beginning to end and the end to beginning. but it is a conversation worth having. the act of getting to know someone is messy. it is circuitous. language is. but if language were not verbalised, it ceases to have its meaning - only by speaking thoughts aloud are you able to test its validity.
kaveh's thoughts have remained unsaid. they are now being said. alhaitham looks to him, the quirk of his brow a punctuation at the end of a wending sentence: ]
Which is the conversation you intend to have with me?
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Date: 2023-05-26 10:50 pm (UTC)he can feel the headache incoming, the way his eyes hurt from how much he has been frowning. they will continue to argue, never truly reach a conclusion, because alhaitham is too prideful, and kaveh is too stubborn. ]
You know what I'm trying to do. I don't have the same authority as you do. My praise does not hold the same weight, and your servants and guards will not listen to me the way they do you. Do you fancy feeding your people lies, so that they may believe what they think you can give them? That won't work with me.
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Date: 2023-05-27 01:56 am (UTC)alhaitham considers this. the page of his book turns. the sound rasps in the hush that follows.
finally, he speaks. ] Try it tomorrow, then. If you are so certain that I am deluding you, then it should be easy for you to find proof, no? Or are you so afraid of wasting your precious breath that you would not even deign to speak the words aloud to prove me wrong?
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Date: 2023-05-27 09:23 pm (UTC)kaveh watches, because it is all he can do. he watches, as though trying to unravel alhaitham's secrets, as though he could peel off his skin and see his heart as it is. he will continue watching, the flame of his stubbornness enough to keep him warm come winter, until he finds truth in his words. ]
Your guesses about me aren't as sharp. Don't project yourself on me. [ because kaveh would never be afraid of wasting his breath on anyone, no. he would not see it as a waste. he would, instead, willingly give it to anyone who would be happy to listen.
he sets his feet on his divan, as is routine. legs to chest, head to knees, eyes to the outside. at the very least, his body has gotten used to the position. ] If I speak to any of them, it is simply because I want to.
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Date: 2023-05-28 03:44 am (UTC)with anyone else, the answer is easy to say: alhaitham does not, in fact, care if one wishes or does not wishes to speak. but this is kaveh. it was kaveh, it has not yet been kaveh, and it will be kaveh. there were two children up in the tower, once. the tower is still there. both children are still here. two people died that day.
alhaitham breathes out from behind his book. the faint amusement in his tone says thus: ]
Of course. How could I forget. I was attempting to bar you from speaking this entire time, Prince of the Lokapala.
[ the pages flip closed. alhaitham rises. ]
I am dousing the torches. Sleep, or don't, it matters not to me. But remember - you will be meeting two more of your kin in two days' time. Consider what you will say to them; it should be easy for you, since you will want to.
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Date: 2023-06-01 11:02 am (UTC)in a world he does not remember just yet, the chance was there, once. two children, so different yet so similar, with the unique innocence only children their age have. kaveh smiled there, extended a hand. kaveh might have made his first friend there, another princeling like him. he does not remember it, a page in the book of his life stuck between two others.
it will be seen. ]
I don't need your reminder. [ no, he does not. it will weight in his mind for the next few days, after all. it will be all day kaveh will think about, and there will not be room for forgotten memories.
night falls. it will be dark. and kaveh will have trouble sleeping, that night. ]
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From:"welcome back to rp", you say, forcing me to write this. sick in the HEAD!!!!!!!!!
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