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Lately nothing is bringing Kaveh happiness. His project in the desert is currently on hold with Al-Haitham rejecting any proposal he makes, his spare key keeps missing, and the mora he has left in his pockets are barely enough to make it through week. Depending on Al-Haitham is the last thing he wants to do, but his roommate is generous enough if Kaveh begs for mora nicely.
At least there is the festival to look forward. Maybe he can have some semblance of hope that his life isn’t just riddled with bad luck.
Lord Kusanali announced a few weeks ago Sumeru start celebrating traditional celebrations that had long been forgotten. Through her duties to gather as much information to further her wisdom, she found a collection of stories kept by the Aranara.
The Courting of Flowers is a fairytale depicting a festival where suitors leave their beloved a flower for them to find. Flowers have their own language and are said to guide the lovers together to meet on the full moon during the festival to dance together. Those who find their respective partner will have a prosperous marriage.
The hopeless romantic in Kaveh loves such tales. His love life, however, is non-existent. There are no suitors leaving him love letters in his office or anyone expressing interest. Kaveh will just have to attend the festival with his friends at his favorite bar.
On his way home, he notices a fortune teller has set up shop in her usual corner near the marketplace. Kaveh has spent mora before getting his fortune told by peddlers claiming to be able to see the future. A scam of course, but Kaveh is easily swayed and this time it’s no different when the young girl promises a discount on love fortunes.
Why not? Kaveh fumbles with the mora he has left and approaches the girl.
Nabiya is well known in the markets for her fortunes. Some of them come off as purely nonsense of a child, but there are whispers the spirit of a god possess her to give her accurate readings.
“Oh? Interested to see how you will fare in love?” Nabiya asks, her eyes alight from seeing the mora in Kaveh’s hand.
Kaveh turns a bright red not realizing how loud the girl is and there are now eyes on them. “Y-Yes, why not. The festival is almost soon.”
Nabiya stretches out her hand. “That’s no problem at all! But first, give me the mora.”
Kaveh complies, feeling a dull ache in his chest from seeing the last of his mora going towards something useless. Al-Haitham is going to scold him once he’s home for being naïve, but Kaveh has decided to oppose his roommate at any given opportunity.
“Now give me your hand.” Nabiya’s hand is small compared to his, but her grip is firm as her fingers trace the patterns of Kaveh’s hands. Her fingers stop at the center of his hand, and she presses against it.
Kaveh nearly reels back from hearing her accurately pinpoint his birthday and the constellation of his birth. The girl’s grip doesn’t relent, instead it grows stronger as her eyes glaze over.
“What a cruel fate you have little lamb. A love bound by the past, unwavering, and resilient. Perhaps it is a blessing, perhaps a curse. What you make of this love will change the course of your fate and of his. The gods are ever watching for this love to blossom or wither.”
Time seems to stop for a moment as Kaveh feel the slightest tendrils of fear coursing through him. A second later, Nabiya lets go of his hand and looks confused, her eyes back to its normal hue. “Hm, what was I doing?” She murmurs, still in a daze. “Are you alright?”
Kaveh manages a slight nod though his hands are trembling, and his face is pale. “Thank you.” He says with a forced smile as he turns to leave.
The encounter leaves him to wander the streets of the city while in a daze. Fortune telling isn’t real, anyone can make accurate prediction by reading body language and other signs, but Kaveh felt he glimpsed into something he shouldn’t have. His mind is telling to stop searching, to forget.
By the time he reaches his office, the sun is beginning to set. Any work he had planned to get done is piled on his cluttered desk. He slumps in his chair, massaging his temples as he tries to clear his mind. The fortune telling means nothing, even Al-Haitham will tell him the same, that is if Kaveh even decides to tell his roommate about it.
He relaxes after a while of closing his eyes and decides to at least sort through his documents before calling it a day. Maybe he can convince Cyno to take a break and go drinking with him. Kaveh needs a stiff drink at least after that ordeal. He feels better now as he starts putting documents into his book bag, only stopping when something in between the clutter catches his eye.
A single lotus.
Kaveh gently picks it up, cradling the delicate flower as its scent nostalgic. “Who left you here?” He asks, while his other hand scrambles to find a note or at least an indication someone was in his office.
The door opens to reveal an unexpected guest – Nahida.
“Lord Kusanali!” Kaveh exclaims, almost dropping the lotus in the process. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to visit. Is there something I can help you with?”
Nahida shakes her head before her attention is drawn to the lotus in Kaveh’s hand. “No, I was looking for Al-Haitham. I thought he would be here.”
Kaveh rolls his eyes and scoffs at the thought of Al-Haitham trying to hide in his office. Whenever Al-Haitham wants to ignore his responsibilities in lieu of spending the rest of his time reading, he tends to hide in the gardens where only Kaveh can find him. Ignoring the other scholars in one thing, but to hide from Lord Kusanali seems disrespectful to Kaveh.
“I haven’t seen him this past week.” Kaveh sighs.
Nahida taps her chin as she contemplates her answer. “I see. Kaveh, I thought you said you weren’t participating in the festival.”
“What do you mean?”
Nahida points to the lotus still cradled in Kaveh’s hand. “Surely someone is trying to court you.”
Kaveh can’t help but laugh at the notion. “I assure you, no one is doing that. Maybe one of my assistants left it here by accident.”
“That is not what the flower is saying. A young man left it for you, though it refuses to say who.” Nahida smiles slightly. “May I offer you some advice?”
Kaveh feels more than honored to receive advise directly from Nahida that he bows his slightly. “Lord Kusanali, it would be foolish to refuse.”
“Well, some humans take offense from it.” Nahida jokes lightly. “I can sense something is troubling you, to be honest, I have a theory, but I will say this – this is your life. Fate may be the ultimate pursuit of knowledge as no one, not even me, knows what lies ahead. Listen to the flower and make your life what you will. I’m sure he thinks the same.”
Before Kaveh can ask who, Nahida is talking about, she gives him a small wave and disappears into the night. Today is just full of mysteries that leave him more questions than answers. The fortune teller, Nahida, and the lotus. He presses the lotus close against his chest, embracing its essence that starts whispering him to wait under the stars the next night for another sign.
Kaveh is a bundle of nerves as he paces back in forth. He only pauses to take a drink while Cyno looks ready to force him to his seat. The moment he arrived at the bar the next day, the bartender informs him there is a crate of wine reserved solely for him. It’s not just any ordinary wine, but his favorite one originating from the desert.
“Are you sure you aren’t seeing someone?” Cyno asks, far more interested in his own drink than Kaveh’s antics.
Kaveh gives Cyno an incredulous look of disbelief. “No way, who would gift me something so expensive?”
“Al-Haitham.” Cyno shrugs indifferently, the answer seems so obvious, but Kaveh laughs at the thought.
“That bastard would never be this nice to me without there being a catch to it.” Kaveh downs the rest of the bottle, wiping the wine on his lips with his sleeve.
Cyno raises a brow. “Right, then what about the person who left you the lotus?”
Kaveh finally settles down in his seat, hiccupping and resting his head on the table. “Flower language sucks, I don’t understand a single thing about it. I waited for an hour outside and there are no other signs.”
“Think of the name of the festival. Courting is a process, and the lotus is guiding you through it. Not that I believe in those things, but the point is to be patient.” Cyno crosses his arms and leans back in his chair.
“You speak from experience?” Kaveh pouts, his face flushed from drinking past his limit.
Cyno clears his throat to change the subject. “Anyway, you’re too drunk to even find the next clue. Call it a night and go home.”
“I don’t want to.” Kaveh grumbles knowing that if Al-Haitham is at home, the man will never stop teasing him about the lotus or the fortune teller. “He locked me out again.”
“That won’t be a problem because he’s here.” Cyno frowns seeing Al-Haitham making his way to them.
Kaveh lets out a loud whine, irritated already from just having Al-Haitham be in the same space as him. “Where the hell have you been? Lord Kusanali was looking for you.”
“Busy.” Al-Haitham looks unimpressed to see Kaveh drunk and starting to slur. “One of us has to keep working to support the other.”
“Who asked you to do that…I can walk home on my own…” Kaveh stands to prove a point, but his balance is off from how much alcohol is in his system, and Al-Haitham is swift to catch him.
“With what keys?” Al-Haitham snorts, hoisting Kaveh onto his back.
“Keep your stupid keys!” Kaveh flails as best as he can, but Al-Haitham has a firm hold on him. “Cyno, help me!”
Cyno sighs wearily, far too used to the same conversation. “Good-night, Kaveh.”
Betrayal at its finest being stuck with Al-Haitham while Cyno watches him be carried away. He admits defeat once they are outside the bar and Al-Haitham starts walking in the direction to their home. There is silence between them other than Kaveh squeezing Al-Haitham’s shoulder as a warning to stop for a moment to settle how sick he feels now before they continue their trek through the streets.
Al-Haitham is warm, his scent comforting as Kaveh is lost in his own thoughts. He rests his head against his back and closes his eyes. “Why are you gone every night you bastard…you can always ask me for help…” He murmurs softly, though if Al-Haitham responds, he doesn’t know as he slips into a peaceful sleep.
Kaveh wakes to a splitting headache and upset stomach. He groans in pain, wishing the blinds of his window weren’t drawn and letting the sun in. He should have listened to Cyno and left some of the wine in the crate for another day, but like a fool, he downed all its contents. Kaveh didn’t even get a chance to find another lotus or clue from his suitor.
Dejected and exhausted, he rolls out of bed to at least nurse his hangover. The house is empty again, except there is breakfast at the table set aside for him. Al-Haitham rarely cooks, actually, he rarely does any of the housework since that is one of the conditions of Kaveh living there rent free – he’s a live-in maid for the man. It smells pleasant enough that he eats the entire thing and drinks the cup of tea.
A note is tucked under the table decoration that has Al-Haitham’s neat scrawl. Don’t think this is comes without a price.
Of course. Nothing is free when it comes to Al-Haitham.
Asshole. Kaveh decides to worry about the payment later and manages to draw himself a hot bath. When he returns with a change of clothes, there is another lotus floating in the water. That wasn’t there before. He walks about the house, even checks Al-Haitham’s room, but he’s the only one there.
Kaveh is careful to get in the tub, letting the lotus float about as he tries to figure out how his suitor even managed to leave him a flower without intruding. He presses the flower closely against his ear, its scent more prominent now. Tomorrow.
Tomorrow what? He’ll find the person leaving him lotuses? Kaveh highly doubts it, sinking further into the tub and letting the water wash over his worries.
Kaveh wipes the sweat from his brow, panting heavily with every attempt to climb further up. He is the tallest person currently tasked with putting up decorations at the theater. Nilou can barely reach, and Kaveh isn’t one to leave a damsel in distress or allow her to sully her beautiful dress. He hangs the floral garlands that Nilou wove herself throughout the stage until he hops down from the ladder and massages his shoulders.
“Thank you so much, Kaveh!” Nilou claps her hands together, her bright smile contagious. “The planning is throwing everyone into a frenzy, what with the festival being tomorrow night.”
“So soon?” Kaveh asks in surprise. He still hasn’t found the person courting him and tomorrow was that cut off.
“Yes! I can’t wait to see people finding each other tomorrow.” Nilou says with glee. “The Goddess of Flowers must be so happy her holiday is being revived again by Lord Kusanali.”
Kaveh clutches his chest, a sudden throb causing him to lean against one of the pillars for support.
“Kaveh! Are you alright?” Nilou helps support his weight, surprisingly stronger than she looks. Her brow is furrowed from worry and her sunny disposition now tainted with concern.
“What? I’m fine.” Kaveh finds his balance again and pries himself from Nilou’s hold. “I just didn’t know this is the festival of the Goddess of Flowers.”
“Oh yes. She started the tradition of the Courting of Flowers as her dedication to King Deshert.” Nilou smiles slightly, still fretting over Kaveh. “Couples who dance under the guise of the moon on the last night of the festival are blessed by both gods. It’s romantic isn’t?” She sighs contently. “No one left me a flower, but if one of my friends can meet their promised one is more than enough for me.”
“Oh.” Kaveh rubs his temple, that same strange sensation he got from his fortune telling is back, but he ignores it. “Someone left me a lotus.”
Nilou gasps, her hand over her mouth to prevent her from shrieking in delight. “Do you know who it is?”
“No. I can’t even think of a single person who would like me.” Kaveh admits, feeling more frustrated than anything he has no other clues to go on.
“Kaveh, maybe it’s out of place for me to say this, but you are handsome and a prestigious architect. People ask about you often except…” Nilou hesitates, unsure whether telling Kaveh is the best course of action.
“Except?” Kaveh prompts her, a creeping suspicion that the next thing Nilou says is going to give him another headache to deal with.
“Al-Haitham refuses to tell them anything about you.” Nilou finishes and gives him an apologetic smile. “Ah, don’t get me wrong, he is kind to me though and just the other day he asked me for advice regarding flowers.”
Al-Haitham being kind doesn’t pair well with him going to someone for advice. Nilou’s expertise is dancing and acting, she isn’t someone that Al-Haitham would go out of his way to speak to unless he needed something from her. Kaveh is too stunned to speak that Nilou gently squeezes his arm to get his attention.
“You’re telling me that demon has someone he likes?” Kaveh suppresses how irritated he feels thinking of Al-Haitham trying to give a young woman a flower. No, Al-Haitham has no interest in romance. He isn’t Kaveh who wants to be courted or wooed.
“They must be important for Al-Haitham to ask for my help.” Nilou smiles. “Speaking of which, I have a gift for you! It’s the least I can do for helping you.” She sprints off to get a small wooden box from the corner of the stage and presents it to Kaveh. “Fortune smiles upon those who do good deeds, or so my mother says. I picked this padisarah this morning and meant to give it to Lord Kusanali, but…” She tip-toes to carefully tuck it into Kaveh’s golden hair.
“There! I hope you can find your beloved.” Nilou says a quick prayer under her breath.
Kaveh gingerly touches the padisarah, and it just feels right. Its scent reminds him of home, of lazy summer nights when he and Al-Haitham are drinking tea together while they have heated debates well into the night, and a strong yearning he wishes he could recall. With that, he leaves the stage, mind clouded by Al-Haitham.
On the day of the festival, the scent of lotuses wakes Kaveh. The padisarah he placed in a flower vase by his nightstand is now a different hue of purple. Kaveh isn’t knowledgeable when it comes to flowers, yet he feels this padisarah is different. Even stranger is that there is another lotus at his door, and when he opens the door, there is now a trail of lotus petals leading him throughout the house.
The clothes set on the couch are made from expensive silks. The lotus is telling him to change, and so he does without questioning how this is happening. Is it magic? Fate? Kaveh’s heartbeat quickens as he changes into the clothes laid out for him, the reds and golds complementing his hair. Whoever his suitor is, has had his clothes tailored to perfection as they frame his body to show off the small of his back.
Kaveh braids his hair into a more respectable braid, feeling that foregoing to his usual unkempt style isn’t fit for the occasion. He’s far too anxious to look in the mirror, instead he tries to find more lotus petals that now lead him into the city.
People are stopping to stare at him, whispering amongst each other. Does he look strange? Kaveh resists the temptation to turn back and crawl under the covers and die from embarrassment. The petals take him to the gardens of the Akademiya, to a tree he knows all too well. He met Al-Haitham here for the first time when they were both students. A feather lies at the foot of the tree, so like the one Al-Haitham gave him many years ago. He traces the softness of the feather, a warm breeze signaling him to press on.
Through his journey he continues to stop at familiar places. Their favorite teahouse. The one older lady who sells them trinkets and keeps mistaking them for a couple. The bar Al-Haitham usually finds Kaveh passed out at, and soon the moon has replaced the sun as the stars light his path to the theater.
Its empty despite the decorations. The lotuses are strewn on the ground to guide Kaveh until he finally reaches the fountain where more lotuses float above the water. What he isn’t expecting is Al-Haitham.
Al-Haitham is not dressed in his usual Akademiya work clothes. He isn’t wearing the gadget on his head either and for once, he looks equally surprised to see him there.
“What are you doing here?”
Both ask the same question in unison.
Al-Haitham taps his temples for a moment, probably thinking the situation through before he finally sighs. “Well played, Nahida.”
“What does Lord Kusanali have to do with this?” Kaveh asks, still confused why Al-Haitham is here instead of the person courting him.
“She set us up.” Al-Haitham begins to explain, as he retrieves the padisarah from the pocket of his suit. “The other day she claimed you were too depressed to work and suggested I reward you in some fashion.”
Kaveh is a loss for words. Would Nahida go as far as to set them up? The two of them can barely go a day without arguing. “That doesn’t explain the lotuses in my office or my room…the gifts…”
“I see.” Al-Haitham comes closer until he is standing beside Kaveh and cups his chin. “Padisarahs. Lord Kusanali said that flowers can guide one to their destined one on the last day of the festival. A ridiculous notion, but you are the romantic type to divulge yourself in such fantasies. I thought perhaps if I followed the flower’s instructions, I would understand the meaning of my dreams.”
“Your dreams?” Kaveh breaths as Al-Haitham’s fingers ghost over his lips.
“Dreams are just that, dreams. Love can be crueler than death, and it’s not something I am keen to know of. Even so, I let the flower guide me this far.” Al-Haitham retracts his hand and Kaveh shudders.
“We have come this far, let’s not waste their efforts.” Al-Haitham says after a long pause, offering his hand to Kaveh.
Kaveh shouldn’t accept, there are too many things unsaid between them, secrets yet to be uncovered. Despite it all, he yearns for the domesticity of coming home to find Al-Haitham reading at his desk or seeing two cups of tea set out for them after a long day. Al-Haitham has become a constant in his life, as he has for him. Life without him being a thorn at his side is unthinkable.
With some hesitance, Kaveh accepts Al-Haitham’s hand as they walk up to the stage together. It feels right. Kaveh has always enjoyed dancing, he always has even as a child, but the arts were an afterthought once he became a scholar. He can feel Al-Haitham’s hand on his lower back, his eyes wistful as he gracefully leads the dance before Kaveh starts having second thoughts about pulling away. They move as one, Kaveh’s competitive streak coming through as he tries to take the lead, only making Al-Haitham smirk at the challenge.
“Didn’t know you can dance.” Kaveh says, hoping to learn more about Al-Haitham.
“I’ve watched different performances.” Al-Haitham’s voice comes right against his ear, causing Kaveh to nearly step on his own feet.
“A genius through and through.” Kaveh sighs, wondering why he even asked in the first place. Al-Haitham could learn just about anything from merely observing without having to repeat the action himself. He can’t imagine Al-Haitham ever having difficulty with any subject though he claims architecture is beyond his scope of skill.
Al-Haitham shrugs, clearly uninterested by Kaveh’s line of questioning. “Why did you accept? You were disappointed it was me waiting for you.”
“No, that isn’t…” Kaveh protests faster than he would like to admit. He’s not sure what he wants to say without seeming too desperate. “Listen, let’s say Lord Kusanali did all this for us, you still went out of your way to leave me the wine, the other gifts, and you carried me home. The lotus led me here, I want to trust it…because then I…” He looks away from Al-Haitham, preparing to be ridiculed as he usually is for having grand ideas of romance.
“Yes?” Al-Haitham’s breath tickles his cheeks and all Kaveh can do is close his eyes while shrinking away. His heart pounds loudly against his chest, threatening to give him away. “Of course.” He chuckles at another realization. “You believe the fairytale. While I want to correct you that the story has a tragic ending, seeing you like this is worth the effort.”
“Y-You!” Kaveh huffs wanting to beat his hands against Al-Haitham’s chest. “What about you?! Going to Nilou and asking her for help.”
“Curiosity,” Al-Haitham replies, taking a hold of Kaveh’s hands to intertwine them with his. “Hm, I wonder if the legend is true. Shall we test that theory?”
“Stop toying with me, I’m serious.” Kaveh says pathetically. “Is it wrong to want to be courted? To be loved?”
“Kaveh.” Al-Haitham stops mid dance, his expression unreadable and panic starts to take over Kaveh. This is it between them, the magic from the festival will be over and they will go their separate ways as they have since graduating.
“Never did I say I wasn’t serious. Have I not been courting you since I allowed you to live with me? Providing you with shelter, clothes, company, and my support. It’s not my fault you decide not to listen.” Al-Haitham’s finger traces the outline of Kaveh’s lips. “Gods, fairytales, fate, none of those matters, but if you believe it then you leave me no choice.”
Kaveh starts to form another protest until he feels Al-Haitham’s lips against his. The shock of his first kiss being with his rival sends a jolt that provides Al-Haitham with another opening to deepen their kiss that makes Kaveh come undone. He melts into it, giving in and for once, Al-Haitham is right. Only they can choose their own path, not the gods or the legends of old.
Kaveh reluctantly parts from Al-Haitham, his lips slightly swollen, and face flushed. “Haitham…I…”
“We should talk about this later when we don’t have an audience.” Al-Haitham says, turning his attention to where there is a bush rustling and there are hushed whispers coming from it.
“We aren’t alone!?” Kaveh wants to die. Everyone saw the dance, the kiss, and worst of all that it was with Al-Haitham. Gossip spreads like wildfire in the Akademiya, he might as well be as good as married to the acting Grand Sage.
“Not since I arrived.” Al-Haitham takes Kaveh’s hand in his. “For now, let’s go home.”
Kaveh’s cheeks are burning, repeating to himself to just ignore the culprits. This is his night. Their night. He matches Al-Haitham’s steps, neither of them noticing the padisarahs blooming in their wake.