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“Did you pack your clothes?”
“Yes.”
“What about a comb? Maybe bring some clips too. Your hair is growing longer and it’ll get hot.”
“I don’t feel the heat.”
“...Did you remember to pack a change of under-”
“Okay, I have everything packed now scram” Scaramouche shooed away the child-like goddess who stuck her tongue out in response. He rolled his eyes as he lifted up his bag.
"Remember, if anything happens then go straight to Alhaitham. He'll take care-"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it! Go and leave already." Nahida frowned. She tugged on one of the boy's long sleeves. He flinched at first but kneeled down to her level.
"What is it?" His brows were furrowed as he stared at Nahida who looked at him sadly before taking her stubby little hands to cup his face.
"I'm sorry I'm leaving you but I promise I'll return soon." Before he could react she patted his head before pulling away with a chuckle at his annoyed expression.
"Be a good boy!"
"So childish," Scaramouche muttered.
He watched silently as Nahida met up with the Traveler and together, the two of them made their way outside of Sumeru's city gates.
Nahida had told him a few days ago she had plans to travel to old Aranara and see if they could replenish some of the plant life in that area. When he proposed to join them she shook his head, reminding him of his duties as a Vahumana student in the Akademiya.
"I can just drop those classes. It's not like I can't find a book to learn what I want." He protested.
”That's not what I want for you though. You've spent too long doing as you please. You need guidance and so I'm here to do just that."
Scaramouche scoffed. "You are not my mother." His voice was harsh but at the same time, broken. It made Nahida's heart twist upon hearing how it trembled in order to force out the unfamiliar word.
”What makes a Mother? The fact that she brought her child into the world?” He didn’t care to answer. ”A Mother is someone who loves and cares for a child whether she was the cause of their existence or not. Now, I know your Mother-”
”Stop,” he pleaded. “Just…stop talking.”
Nahida frowned but obeyed his wishes and nothing more was said between them.
Scaramouche was jerked out of his thoughts by the loud, blonde head of hair that invaded his vision. His…hosts had shown up earlier than expected.
"Greetings, I'm Kaveh. It's a delight to finally meet you! Nahida speaks of you quite fondly."
Scaramouche just gave the blonde a pointed look before turning to walk off in another direction. He was not going to spend the next month with such a vibrant character. By the Tasritsa, he’d rather become one of Dottore’s test subjects.
"And where do you think you're going?" A hand gripped his shoulder which he shrugged off. Scaramouche turned to see a familiar face, the Akademiya's Scribe who gazed at him, emotionless.
Faking a smile to seem…comely, he spread his arms out wide as he talked. "Well I wouldn't want to impose on you two so I'll be off-"
He tried to leave again but that hand gripped his shoulder, tighter this time. The Scribe leaned in and spoke, "Unfortunately, Nahida has charged me with looking after you so you have no choice but to tag along with me and my…roommate."
Scaramouche stared up at the sheer audacity of the man, perplexed.
"Why go through so much effort to house an unwanted guest? I can take care of myself just fine so leave me be, oh ingenious Scribe." Before he could utter a response, the blonde from before pushed past him.
"Look, Nahida is a dear friend of ours and we want to be able to fulfill her request. This isn't about what we get out of it-"
"Pay increase plus a vaca-" the blonde elbowed the Scribe who seemed unfazed by the action.
"Just come with us. We can have a lot of fun together. Oh! Do you have an interest in cooking, perhaps?" Scaramouche glared at him.
"I am not a child and I do not care for mortal frivolities. Once again, leave me be."
Much to Scaramouche's dismay, the blonde, and his partner did not leave. Rather, they stayed rooted to the spot, unyielding.
Such foolish stubbornness. Scaramouche had seen it so many times before throughout his life. Children were always particularly stubborn, blacksmiths would likely be next on the list.
He chuckled as the blonde narrowed his brow but the Architect wasn't having it.
"I know it's difficult for you…to connect with other people, but-"
"You know nothing." He spoke in such a tone that even the Scribe seemed a little shocked.
For a moment, only an awkward silence filled the air between them. Thinking he'd proven his point, Scaramouche turned to leave but was immediately grasped by an iron grip.
"What are you-"
"You're coming with us. I need a vacation," Alhaitham said. Scaramouche laughed hysterically as he tried to pry off the Scribe's grip on his arm.
"I will do no such thing. Release me!" But Alhaitham simply picked up the boy as if his body weighed nothing before hauling him over his shoulder and marching off.
A little startled but intrigued by Alhaitham's actions, Kaveh followed closely. He smiled at the boy who struggled in Alhaitham's grip.
It was humiliating, embarrassing, and utterly revolting to have been slung over someone's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Luckily, hardly anyone was around that day so nobody saw what occurred. Unfortunately, that also meant Scaramouche couldn't act like he was being kidnapped as a means of getting away from his assailants.
The trio arrived at a house sheltered away from the view of others. Alhaitham didn't set him down until they were inside. He all but dropped Scaramouche onto the couch who sputtered like a fish out of water.
"You insignificant mortal, do you have no regard for your own life? How dare you-"
"Sounds like someone's hungry!" Kaveh chirped. "I'll go get lunch ready," he said as he hurried into the kitchen.
"Wretched worm, I don't eat!"
And that was how Scaramouche's stay at Alhaitham's house began. He was sat at the kitchen table with his kidnappers and brutally forced to consume a sorry excuse for a stew.
"Sorry if it isn't to your liking, I didn't realize we were out of chili powder."
"Pathetic," Scaramouche said as he scraped his spoon against the empty bowl.
Kaveh collected their dishes and Scaramouche was left to eye the locked front door. Perhaps he could escape when his abductors had fallen asleep? He could make for Aaru Village. The only concern he had was dealing with the woman said to be the protector of Aaru Village. Her ferocity knew no bounds according to rumors and was even said to fight against sandstorms.
Scaramouche leaned against his chair, trying to come up with some sort of escape plan. A window was possible but his hat wouldn’t fit and he didn’t care to commission a new one from Inazuma either. His thoughts came to an abrupt halt when a shart voice spoke.
“Come on, we’re going shopping.” Scaramouche squinted at the Scribe. The man was as stoic and uncaring as ever. He merely folded his arms and scoffed.
“You don’t think I’ll escape while we’re out?”
“I’m sure you’ll try which is why I alerted the Matra about you a day before you arrived. There’s no use running since the Corps of Thrity guard every gate.”
It wasn’t the first time in his life Scaramouche was grateful for the anemo vision that clung to his chest. He feigned upset at Alhaitham’s words but already, the gears in his head were turning. Flying out of the city? Not a problem for him.
“That’s enough you two!” Kaveh screeched. He glanced at Scaramouche. “I know you’re not a child so I expect you to act mature and civilized! Don’t cause unnecessary trouble.” At those words, Alhaitham’s face lit up with a wide grin.
“You’re as hypocritical as ever, Kaveh.”
“You shut up!---he stepped out the door before coming back— And grab your wallet!” The blonde yelled before strutting out of the kitchen. Shopping was sure to be a draining affair for Scaramouche if he had to deal with a couple of lovebirds…
Said lovebirds acted more like a divorced pairing when it came to shopping. One lost himself amongst the arts while the other seemed to create a home among piles of books. Peering at them now, you couldn’t tell they lived together, not in the slightest. That was likely how they’d managed to keep their living situation a secret for so long, he guessed.
“Scara, come here!” Kaveh shrieked.
“Don’t call me that!”
“Listen Scaranara, you’ve refused to give us a proper name for you so I’ll call you as I please. Now, hold this up.” Kaveh handed him a shirt not dissimilar from his own. The back was cut out and the neckline was wide and hung low. Immediately, Scaramouche glared at the frilly piece. “Alright then, not that.” Kaveh took back the shirt in exchange for a more Inazuman-style one.
This one was a deep purple color that reminded him of a thorny gaze and a heavy hand. Without even saying anything, Kaveh put the offending piece back before selecting a green and white shirt adorned with long sleeves and a plant-like design.
“This is beautiful, what about this one?” he asked. Scaramouche said nothing as he gazed at the piece of cloth that resembled the laughter of a young child. “I think I’ll buy this one,” Kaveh concluded.
“Whatever.” Scaramouche trailed behind the blonde as he went to pay.
“Oh Scara, could you please grab Haitham? He’s keeping tabs on his own wallet.” Scaramouche peered at the Scribe who’d yet to leave his place in front of a shelve of books. He trotted over to him, none too thrilled about taking the role of a messenger but such was his life now, apparently.
“Hey, your wife is calling you.” The Scribe didn’t seem to hear him. Scaramouche saw the green glow of the man’s earpieces, realizing the noise cancellation must’ve been turned on. He stretched out his hand to tug on the taller man’s cloak.
Alhaitham peered down at him, gaze unperturbed as if voicing Why are you disturbing me? Scaramouche pointed to the blonde who was now cheerfully waving at them. Eyes from around the store drifted over to him which got Alhaitham to move.
“Hold this,” the Scribe said before making his way to Kaveh. Scaramouche accepted the book on…parenting teenagers? Perhaps the couple was looking to adopt. Scaramouche shrugged before following Alhaitham to pay for their items.
The trip home as well as dinner were uneventful. His kidnappers merely playfully bickered amongst themselves, occasionally asking Scara probing questions that he neglected to answer.
Sleeping arrangements were made not long after but to Scaramouche’s surprise, he wouldn’t be the one sleeping on the couch.
“Why not? I’m not human so comfort isn’t an issue for me,” he reasoned. Kaveh sighed as he brought a hand to his head as if to rub away an oncoming headache.
“Whether you’re human or not, we want to treat you well. Please, take my room. Haitham has no issue with sleeping on the couch, isn’t that right?” Scaramouche glanced at the ashen in question who was dutifully ignoring everyone with a book pushed in front of his face. Scaramouche recognized it as the parenting book from earlier today.
“You’re willing to go so far for a paycheck? Ridiculous.” He said nothing more as he made his way to the spare guest room. Glancing around, it was then that Scaramouche realized, this would be the first time he’d be sleeping in a real bed, let alone a room. It wasn’t a particularly exciting or significant occasion, but, he couldn’t help it when his mind ran through memories of residing in abandoned storehouses and the like.
Scaramouche shrugged off the outer layers of his clothes. As he went to remove his hat, he felt a marking ingrained at the back of his neck. He let out a shaky breath as he carefully took his hat off and placed it beside his neatly folded bundle of clothes before getting into bed.
As a puppet, he didn’t think he’d know what comfort would feel like. When he pulled the covers over himself, it reminded him of times long past. Of a greeting between friends and a hug as they waved their goodbyes.
The following morning, he woke up to dried tear tracks and a stained pillow. Though the anemo vision was the heart he'd always wanted, it did nothing to stave off the memories.
Scaramouche washed his face, dressed, and walked into an empty sitting room. The light outside was hardly there, much of the room was still bathed in shadow.
He went to the front door where a dish with three sets of keys was placed. A grey one with green highlights, a golden one with a lion attached, and finally, a key that resembled a leaf more than anything. No doubt the last belonged to the child-god.
Scaramouche peered outside the window only to find a stream of Matra wading through the streets.
"You could always use the back entrance, but, I personally would not advise it." He turned to see the owner of the voice leaning against the doorframe.
"Thought you'd be sleeping on the couch."
"Kaveh had a nightmare." They gazed at each other silently for a moment. "Hungry?" he asked.
"I don't feel hunger."
"Suit yourself," and just like that, Alhaitham strode into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Not left with much choice, Scaramouche followed and sat at the kitchen table. He watched as Alhaitham fluttered around the kitchen, fulfilling a mundane task he'd never understand.
"Don't you ever get tired?"
"Elaborate."
"Don't you get tired of doing the same thing every day? You mortals live the same day over again as if stuck in a samsara. Does it not utterly bore you?" Alhaitham leaned against the counter with a cup of coffee. He took a sip before answering.
"Don't you ever get tired of running and pushing people away?" Scaramouche's eyes widened for a fraction of a second but he quickly slipped into smiling slyly.
"In my line of work, you don't get to play house with some stray you pick off the street." Alhaitham's eyebrows furrowed and his grip tightened on his cup before relaxing slightly.
"Your line of work? And what would that be?"
"Nevermind that, I think I heard your husband wake up." Scaramouche glanced at the open bedroom door where the sound of someone falling onto the floor emanated.
"We're not marri-"
"And I'm not a puppet incapable of feeling such trivial emotions or understanding human logic."
Without another word, Alhaitham went to his bedroom to rouse Kaveh for work. The blonde had indeed fallen from the bed but his spritely attitude told everyone he’d recovered well from his nightmare. If Scaramouche felt a little jealous, he kept it to himself.
Days went by and for the most part, Scaramouche kept to himself. He did observe his unwilling hosts though as he poured through pages of books and attended his Akademiya classes. They bickered sometimes and gazed at each other with adoration on other occasions. Neither of them seemed to be aware of their feelings. It made Scaramouche feel like he was stuck watching one of Fontaine’s ridiculous stage plays that the marionette had loved so dearly. It was sickening, nauseating, and downright incomprehensible.
What was even more illogical than the pair was how one, in particular, was determined to walk him to the Akademiya every day.
“Oh Scara, that vendor is selling pita pockets! Care for one?”
“Didn’t your husband tell you to manage your mora better?” At the mention of Alhaitham, Kaveh blushed. He shushed Scaramouche and looked around to see if anyone had heard.
“First of all, he and I are not together. Second, I’ll do as I please with my own money, thank you very much.” Kaveh didn’t care to listen to another word Scaramouche said before purchasing the pita pocket and handing it to him. “I know you didn’t eat breakfast so have this instead. You’re going to need your energy to sit through class…Archons know how many times I would…a-anyways, we should go.”
Kaveh grasped his hand and guided him through the winding streets of Sumeru. He ate his pita pocket along the way.
Scaramouche assumed Kaveh would simply walk to the entrance of the Akademiya. Apparently, they did not share the same set of gears.
“C’mon! I want to meet some of your friends and see what they’re like!” Scaramouche paused in his steps, causing Kaveh to falter. By now, he’d finished his pita pocket, and the wrapper was crumpled tightly in his hand.
“I don’t have friends. I’ve no need for such unnecessary connections.” Kaveh frowned at his words.
“Friends can be very helpful though! I mean, take a look at me and Haitham, for example. I would be on the streets if I hadn’t approached him when we were students.”
“Unlike you, I have no need for mortal necessities such as food, water, or shelter. I can live in an abandoned storehouse without issue.” Kaveh’s eyes widened at the statement. The blonde seemed to be in a state of shock so Scaramouche took his momentary surprise to release his hand and walk to class.
Classes were long and arduous but Scaramouche had to admit, it was a good way to pass the endlessness of his life. When he finished, he was a little put off by the Scribe standing outside the door.
“C’mon, we’re eating out today.” Alhaitham walked off and didn’t look back. Rolling his eyes, Scaramouche followed.
They strolled the streets for some time until the sun was setting and the sky was bathed in an orange light. Alhaitham took a moment to look up at the setting sun before walking into a tavern. The place was small, the inside was cramped with little room to maneuver and only one table seemed to be full. To his horror, Alhaitham was walking towards the table.
At the table sat the blonde Architect, a Matra, a Valuka Shuna, and a small green-haired girl. She looked at Scaramouche with an heir of nervousness and the memory struck him. He knew this girl. She was the Doctor’s test subject years ago.
When he approached the table, the young girl wouldn’t meet his eyes. It would be impossible for her to remember anything. She’d always been unconscious when Scaramouche came for a visit. Not wanting to disrupt the lively atmosphere at the table, he quietly took a seat.
“Hello there, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Tighnari, a Forest Ranger from Ghandarva Ville,” the Valuka Shuna said. He pointed towards the Matra sitting beside him. “This is my husband, Cyno,” and then, the girl who finally met his gaze. “This is Collei, our daughter. Collei, say hi.” She smiled shyly and gave a little wave. She couldn’t have been more than 12, maybe 13.
Scaramouche painted on a smile that seemed to surprise the blonde Architect who sat across from him. “Delighted to meet you.” He purposefully didn’t give his name but Kaveh didn’t get the hint.
“Yes…well, you can call him Scaramouche.” Collei audibly gasped from beside Tighnari. The entire table looked at her as her face paled. Not wanting to make a scene, Scaramouche led the conversation.
“Yes…well, how about we get something to order? I’m starving.” Again, Kaveh gave him an odd look but still stood up to tag along with Cyno and Alhaitham as they went to order. Tighnari patted Collei’s shoulder, obviously concerned, but the girl was smart enough to smile and shake her head.
“Alright then, stay with Scaramouche. I’ll go get the drinks.” As if she was a puppy being abandoned, Collei stared after Tighnari’s fading figure. The desperation for her adoptive father to stay was tremendous but she neglected to voice it. It wasn’t hard to tell this was very common for the young girl.
Scaramouche figured this moment between them would be a good opportunity to clear the air. He waited for Collei to nervously meet his gaze. To the best of his ability, he softened his face as he attempted to appear friendly and not at all a threat, even if he was the biggest threat in the Tavern at the moment.
“I’m not gonna bite ya. What’s past is past.” He said it calmly, simply, and with no room for doubt. Collei nodded her head but she still appeared nervous. She clutched onto a small plush toy. It was a patchwork of various fabrics, worn out, but very much cared for. That much was apparent. It gave him an idea.
Scaramouche took off his hat to dig through the inside of it. He pulled out a doll he had crafted in his spare time. It was one of the Aranara with a large dopey-looking smile and small, beady eyes. He handed it to her with no hesitation.
Collei’s eyes widened at the sight. Despite her past, she was still a child so the doll captivated her. Before she even knew it, she had accepted it into her arms to examine and hold. Compared to her measly first attempt at crafting, this doll was well-made. The colors were radiant, the sewing without error, and the face perfectly captured the spirit of what she thought an Aranara would be like.
“T-thank you,” she muttered shyly. Scaramouche nodded in acknowledgment before plastering that fake smile to greet Tighnari back to the table.
“Oh Collei, did Scaramouche give that to you? Wow, and it's so well-crafted!” —he turned to Scaramouche— “You really didn’t have to-”
“I did,” and was the last truthful thing he said for the remainder of the night. Collei smiled happily as she gazed at her new toy.
***
“Okay, what in Celestia was that?” Kaveh screamed as soon as they’d arrived home. “You were so cordial and pleasant! Why can’t you be like that all the time??” Scaramouche blocked out the noise of the blonde and by the looks of it, so did his supposed not-husband-but-roommate. “What? Was it because we were in public? And why did Collei look at you like that? As if she recognized you?”
Scaramouche sighed as he set down the book he’d picked up. Alhaitham’s library was expansive but rarely did he find a topic of interest save for this fairytale. He could certainly see that it was something Nahida would enjoy. Sheadored cats.
“There are things part of my past that I’d rather not discuss.” He could tell that Kaveh wanted to push for more details but gave up. He strolled over to the kitchen and began preparing coffee. Despite the blonde’s irritation with their guest, he still made Scaramouche a cup and he finished every last drop of it.
Nightfall brought more forsaken memories. Scaramouche dried his tears with the stream of sunlight and set about his day, pulling on the new clothes Kaveh had bought for him.
“It looks good on you,” he commented as he set his breakfast down that morning. Last night's debacle had seemingly dispersed from memory and the blonde was back to his overly jovial self. Alhaitham was more or less the same, sipping his coffee while reading a book.
As Scaramouche went around the house completing his daily tasks, his eyes would catch flashes of green in reflected surfaces and it made the anemo vision on his chest pulse with energy. He wasn’t sure why but he didn’t like the feeling.
As he was tidying up a cupboard, Scaramouche came across a basket of sewing supplies, yarn, knitting needles, and the like that were placed carefully inside. There were various colors of the materials as well but the most prominent were the various shades of green. Green like Sumeru’s forests and words unspoken.
For a while, he fought with himself whether or not to present his findings to his host but the need to do something was overwhelming. He grabbed the woven, brown basket and placed it on Alhaitham’s desk.
The Scribe peered up from his book and Scaramouche witnessed the moment his eyes landed on the basket with an heir of recognition.
“Would you mind…if…I borrowed this?” he asked tentatively.
“Not at all.” The puppet expected Alhaitham to reject him or at least tell him the origin of the supplies.
“You’re just going to let me use it? Just like that?”
“I see no reason not to. Surely, you’ll utilize it well and that is a far better fate for it than collecting dust in my house.” Scaramouche was a little perplexed by the Scribe’s phrasing of his words but took the basket to the guest room anyway.
He set it down on the bed before reaching in and grabbing what he needed. For countless hours, he worked on this creation all while staring softly at the window. The curtains were drawn but a sliver of light still slipped through. He kept gazing at it, as if expecting something or someone to appear, but nothing and no one did.
***
“Scara, it's time for dinner!” Kaveh called. The Architect was in a chipper mood. Though his demeanor was more or less the same, the placement of wine bottles on the table was enough to convey the need for celebration.
“The occasion?” Scaramouche asked as he thumbed a wine glass. Kaveh promptly stole it away from him and set it on the opposite side of the table where Alhaitham would be sitting.
“I finished my project successfully and made enough money to pay off a large portion of my debt.”
“Well, congratulations,” he said, unable to help the monotony of his own voice. Kaveh glanced at him as if he had something he wanted to say but thought better of it.
“I-I’ll go get Haitham,” he said as he rushed over to the Scribe’s office. Scaramouche grabbed Kaveh’s glass of wine and took a sip. It didn’t taste like the bowls of fruit he had grown used to sharing.
***
“I’ll take him to bed,” Alhaitham said as he hauled Kaveh up. The blonde passed out sometime around the 5th or 6th drink. He cuddled into Alhaitham’s hold who after numerous failed attempts to get Kaveh to stand on his own two feet, decided that carrying him bridal style would be best.
“Will you ever tell him?” Scaramouche asked as he gazed up at the pair.
“When he’s ready,” Alhaitham replied before taking the blonde back to his room. Alhaitham didn’t walk back out again. Scaramouche cleared up the table and piled the dirty dishes in the sink.
He returned to his room, unusually drained. He didn’t have it in him to clean up the sewing supplies that lay scattered on his bed lest he lose a needle or thread. Scaramouche walked back out into the living room and settled himself on the couch. Just like the night before and every night before that, tears stained his sleeves from memories he’d thought he’d abandoned.
***
“I-I don’t know what to do, Haitham, he’s not waking up.”
“Is he ill?”
“No, his temperature is fine.”
“It looks like he’s experiencing a nightmare.”
“What do we do? Nahida didn’t say anything about this. W-we can’t even take him to a doctor!”
Scaramouche opened his eyes to see Kaveh and Alhaitham hovering over him. The blonde had started tearing up, choking on his words as he looked over to Alhaitham who exuded that unrivaled state of calm and control.
Alhaitham had a hand on his shoulder, trying to quiet the other down.
“What if he’s in pain, Haitham?!” Kaveh sputtered. “I should’ve paid more attention to him. We should’ve known. We should’ve-” Scaramouche sat up to sate the other’s worries but before he could even get a word out, he was swept into a tight hug. “Oh Archons, I was so worried you wouldn’t wake up.”
Scaramouche sat there, still and rendered silent by the blonde’s embrace. After several minutes of having his back rubbed by Kaveh and his hair swept back by Alhaitham, Kaveh finally pulled him away with a sigh of relief.
“Are you alright?” Alhaitham asked. He still had a hand on Scaramouche’s hair.
“I-I’m fine,” Scaramouche groaned internally at the crack in his voice.
“Oh Archons, thank goodness. I was so scared something happened to you.” Before Kaveh could pull him into another hug, Scaramouche shifted backward.
“Th-this is normal. Continue on with your day.”
“Normal?” Alhaitham questioned. Scaramouche nodded his head. “Nahida never mentioned anything about this.”
“Because she doesn’t know,” Scaramouche stated bitterly. He never allowed Nahida to see him sleeping for this reason. He knew she’d worry and pity him and that was the last thing he needed. He already owed an unimaginable debt to the goddess for sparing him. How much more would Nahida be burdened with for his sake?
Kaveh still had his arms wrapped around him, grasping onto his clothes tightly as if he was afraid Scaramouche would run away.
“You seemed to be having a nightmare.”
“I was, always the same one…for as long as I was created.” Alhaitham frowned.
“And you never thought to mention this to the god of dreams?” he reasoned. Scaramouche gave him a cold look.
“This isn’t any of her business, nor is it yours.” Scaramouche pried Kaveh’s hands off of him and stood up to return to the guest room. He shut the door and his eyes landed on a half-finished doll, its green eyes seemed to hold tears from the way the sun shone down on it.
***
“What do we do, Haitham? We can’t just leave him to suffer like that.”
Kaveh and Alhaitham sat at the kitchen table sharing a cup of coffee. Scaramouche had neglected to come out of the bedroom all day and the Architect was beginning to worry.
“There’s nothing we can do besides be here for him when he decides to open up.” Kaveh groaned in frustration.
“You always wait and watch for things to happen. We need to take action. We should call Nahida and let her know.”
“Call me for what?” Kaveh screeched as the child-like goddess appeared in their kitchen. She looks at them with bright green eyes and a curious gaze. “Is there something wrong?” she inquired.
Kaveh, in shock, was unable to articulate the severity of their issue. All he could do was open and close his mouth much like a fish.
“Welcome back, Nahida. We were just discussing the…sleeping arrangements of our guest.” Nahida looked befuddled as she looked to the Scribe.
“Sleeping arrangements? Surely, there wasn’t any trouble during his stay here?” Alhaitham and Kaveh looked at her as they silently communicated whether they should share this newfound discovery. Much to their chagrin, she noticed.
“I’ll see for myself what the matter is. Please, go about your Evening. I plan on taking him home.” Kaveh glanced nervously between the Archon and the spare guest room before speaking up.
“Nahida, you stay with us, but, where does Scaramouche stay?”
“In the Sanctuary of Surthsana. He’s quite comfortable sleeping in one of the storage rooms actually.” Kaveh sighed.
“Wouldn’t better living accommodations be more ideal for him?” The god looked at him puzzled.
“Well, with him being a puppet, comfort hardly seemed an issue.”
“That’s not the point!” Kaveh yelled. He didn’t seem to register he’d raised his voice until a moment later. “I-I apologize, I didn’t mean-”
“What’s all this commotion?” Scaramouche appeared from the doorway to the guest room. His eyes settled on Nahida whom he greeted with a nod of his head. Nahida was all too happy to walk over to him and give him a hug. To the surprise of both Kaveh and Alhaitham, he didn’t push her away.
“It’s good to see you’re doing well. When I teleported here, I had assumed the worst.”
“Needless worry,” Scaramouche muttered. He closed the guest room door. “I assume I’ll be going back then?” Nahida didn’t reply which caused him to look up at her again. “Well?”
“Would you perhaps like to stay here for a while longer, Scaramouche?”
“What!?!”
“With the Scribe’s permission of course.”
“I am not opposed to it,” Alhaitham voiced. Scaramouche’s eyes darted around the room if a mouse caught in a trap.
“I don’t see the reason why-”
“I’d love for him to stay!” Kaveh smiled as he said it which caused Nahida to chuckle.
“It seems you’ve found yourself some new friends, Scaramouche! As for the sleeping arrangements—she turned to Alhaitham—if it’s alright with you two-” but Kaveh was quick to interrupt with his own idea.
“H-how about for this first night, we have a little sleepover in the sitting room? It’ll be fun!” Scaramouche glared menacingly at the blonde who shot an equally stone-cold glance. Kaveh was determined to help Scaramouche through any means necessary. An unprompted sleepover was just the more…fun way to do things.
***
Kaveh was quick to set up a pillow fortress while also using a new cooling device from Fontaine to keep the temperature of the room comfortable for him and Haitham. The Scribe was preparing drinks in the kitchen while Nahida was already cuddled up in a blanket beside Scaramouche.
“Everyone ready?” Alhaitham announced once he walked into the room, a tray of drinks in hand.
“Mmhmm!” Kaveh chirped as he sat beside Nahida. Scaramouche still seemed to be pouting about this arrangement but Kaveh swore a hint of anxiety was in his eyes.
“Alright then, let’s begin.” Alhaitham brought out a Casket of Tomes and with that, they were playing round after round of Genius Invokation TCG until the late night. Drinks (non-alcoholic) were quickly finished and Kaveh lost himself to the sweet aroma of berries. Alhaitham always knew how to make the best drinks in the summer.
As the night wore on, everyone found it hard to stay awake, everyone except Scaramouche who seemed dead set on doing just that. Nahida found his behavior odd but didn’t question it. She curled up beside Alhaitham’s head nestled on a pillow and was fast asleep in minutes.
Kaveh peered at Scaramouche for as long as he could, his mind set on helping him. No one, mortal or not, should have to suffer such pain alone. Eventually, his eyes dropped as he dove into the warmth Alhaitham exuded beside him. The last thing he saw was Scaramouche taking out a doll-shaped figure from his hat.
Kaveh awoke to the sound of sniffles and ruckus of sheets as if someone kept tossing in their sleep. He blearily opened his eyes and allowed them to adjust to the darkness of the living room before sitting up and turning to his left.
There sat Nahida, a hand placed on Scaramouche’s trembling form with an unreadable expression on her face.
“Nahida?” he spoke softly, not wanting to wake Alhaitham though now that he looked down, he could see the Scribe had his noise-canceling ear pieces in.
“Shh, go back to sleep. It’s alright,” the goddess said. Kaveh refused.
“Nahida, can you do nothing?” but she didn’t answer. She was focused on running her hands over the other’s hair, stroking it away from his face, taking his hand into hers, and rubbing it gently. She sighed before finally answering the Architect.
“I can’t do anything if he won’t allow me to. The fact he’s never asked me to help him…I just-” She turned to Kaveh, a world of pain in her eyes. Unspoken suffering that was far beyond her years, agony a child’s face should not be able to exhibit.
Without a word, Kaveh stood up to join the other two. He rested his hand on Nahida’s shoulder who leaned into his chest and his other hand grasped Scaramouche’s free one. He stroked over the skin, unable to tell the difference between his own. His only observation was that those hands were so, so cold.
“What can be done for him?” Kaveh asked.
“Love, he needs to be loved. He needs to feel safe and connected instead of alone and abandoned. His own self-hatred causes these nightly happenings because he’s never forgiven himself for his past.”
“So you knew?”
“Of course, I tried so many things. Giving him a home, allowing him to make friends, and even coming here…but it didn’t work…and I’m out of ideas.”
“Then we keep trying.” Alhaitham came from behind both of them to place Nahida in his lap and wrap an arm around Kaveh. The gesture was sudden but appreciated. “We never give up on him,” Alhaitham uttered as he stared at Kaveh. Even in the darkness, Kaveh could see that ring of teal surrounded by red that always captivated him, ever since their Akademiya days. He nodded his head as he leaned onto Alhaitham’s shoulder.
“We keep trying because he’s worth it, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”
***
The lack of an intervention was Scaramouche’s first sign of something being odd around the house. He’d woken up with tear tracks down his face as he always did that morning and quickly made an early morning trip to the bathroom to wash up.
Everyone was still asleep when he got back. Nahida was curled up beside Alhaitham’s head, her small, stubby hands gripped onto tufts of his hair but it hardly irked the Scribe. Alhaitham had one arm around Nahida, the other was tightly clasped by Kaveh’s hand who was holding him from behind. The display was sickeningly sweet. Who wouldn’t look at them and think family?. He went to the kitchen and made breakfast for himself.
Nahida woke up not long after him. She was her usual chipper self as she sat at the kitchen table. Despite not having said anything, Scaramouche still handed her a plate of food, even though they both knew she didn’t need it. One by one, the rest of them was served a plate of food as they entered the kitchen.
Strangely, Kaveh didn’t bat an eye at Scaramouche’s uncharacteristically kind behavior. He downed his food happily and tweeted a thanks before heading off to fulfill his tasks for the day. That was Scaramouche’s second sign.
The third happened in a similar manner, Alhaitham, of all people, went to thank him for a delicious breakfast. As Scaramouche turned to put the empty plate in the sink, he felt a warm sensation on his head which caused him to freeze in place. The hand didn’t stop. Alhaitham patted his head before leaving for his office, presumably to read. Scaramouche stared at his retreating figure, not knowing how to react.
The fourth and final sign came from the goddess of Dendro herself. She was always so inexplicably kind and attentive towards Scaramouche but today, her mannerisms were the opposite. She barely even looked his way let alone spoke to him. It was as if she’d grown used to living without his constant presence, like a thorn in his side and maybe, that’s what it was.
He didn’t have the heart to present her with the finished doll woven in green and white. He stuffed the useless toy away to throw out later.
It was over a dinner of butter chicken and rice that Scaramouche finally voiced the words that were on his mind all day.
“What in the Tsaritsa is going on here?” he announced. Normally, Kaveh would frown over his outburst but instead, he smiled politely. Alhaitham was indifferent and Nahida stared curiously at him as she dug into her chicken (kindly cut up by Alhaitham).
“What do you mean?” Nahida asked. Scaramouche tsked in annoyance.
“No one here is acting like themselves.”
“Care to expand?”
“You know what? Forget it.” He stood up from his seat after putting his dishes in the sink and left for the guest room to turn in early for the night.
The following days were more or less the same. Scaramouche received so much praise from the Akademiya’s Scribe, Kaveh excused many of his behaviours, even the ones he exhibited for the sole purpose of annoying the blonde, and Nahida carried on without a care in the world. The one thing that was a constant was dinner together. They all sat around the table but he never participated in any of their conversations and they never pushed him to do so.
Eventually, he provided commentary on Kaveh’s recent projects, assisted Alhaitham in finding books, and helped Nahida do her hair. These actions, as minimal as they were, became a small part of his day he secretly enjoyed. Kaveh was always so taken with his ideas. Alhaitham never failed to volunteer to read Scaramouche’s research papers, and Nahida delighted in all the different braids Scaramouche knew.
Scaramouche remembered this feeling of being useful, of being needed by people. He reminisced the ways his friends would need a helping hand or how a child’s laughter brought him such warmth, so unlike his Mother’s look of contempt when she was met with a creation too fragile for her goal.
It felt like every time he got too close, he’d drift away, but little did he know an archon and her companions would make sure such an occurrence wouldn’t be happening any time soon.
***
Nahida had been rummaging around the guest room shortly after tea one evening. She’d noticed a hole in one of the blankets that sat atop the couch and had volunteered to fix it up. Alhaitham directed her to the guest room where Scaramouche had taken his Grandmother’s old woven basket of sewing supplies. As Kaveh and Scaramouche ate their cake, she entered the room.
Nahida didn’t mean to pry. She’d only wanted to find the sewing basket. What she found instead was a treasure trove of well-crafted dolls. Their colors were vibrant, the cloth sewn expertly, and the expression far too fitting for whom they resembled.
She ran her hand lightly over the dolls that were clearly Kaveh and Alhaitham. The dolls weren’t too large, but they were more than a handful so it would’ve taken Scaramouche weeks to make them. As Nahida raked her eyes over the doll, she couldn’t find a single imperfection in place.
Taking the dolls with her as well as the sewing basket she presented them to their models who were all too impressed with the craftsmanship, but Scaramouche didn’t even bat an eye.
“I was bored,” he said.
“They’re exquisite!” Kaveh exclaimed as his hands curled around the thin strands of golden thread that resembled his hair. “Absolutely marvelous, you could make quite a fortune from such a skill!” Alhaitham’s reaction was more muted but his underlying delight would’ve been apparent to even the most brainless Inazuman Oni.
“They’re remarkable. I’m surprised they’re yours.” Scaramouche shook his head as he gathered their dishes and took them to the kitchen.
“You can have them.”
***
Living with Alhaitham and Kaveh was a momentous part of Nahida’s life but she knew she’d need to leave eventually. This came in the form of dragging Scaramouche around Sumeru City in search of a suitable home for the two of them. Although Kaveh insisted on her staying, Alhaitham’s house was simply too cramped for the four of them. Scaramouche had joked he could fit in a closet and be happy and Alhaitham had to physically restrain Kaveh from hugging the puppet out of sorrow.
“Just pick a property already, we’ve visited 5 different locations.” Scaramouche was getting impatient and it showed in the way he dragged his feet and coldly greeted each owner.
“I want to pick something you like too, not just me.” Scaramouche scoffed as he folded his arms.
“A God cares what a puppet thinks? Oh, how this world has fallen.” Nahida ignored the comment as she grasped Scaramouche’s sleeve to pull him in a new direction.
“C’mon, this will be the last place. Kaveh mentioned it had a beautiful view of Sumeru.”
“Oh, hooray for that.”
The view was indeed breathtaking…but the house itself was lacking some furnishings, an updated kitchen, and many more details. Some of the woodwork on the inside was falling apart, the roof needed redoing, and the garden just wasn’t worth mentioning. Nahida had thought they’d reached another dead end and went to tell her companion as such but was met with an unfamiliar sight.
Scaramouche stood in the glow of the setting sun. It illuminated the dark shadows of his face and left him with an expression of awe. Nahida didn’t need to use her skill to know that the view reminded him of his past, but not of the moments bathed in war and bloodshed or betrayal and loss. No. It reminded him of warmth, family, and hope.
She was quick to make an agreement with the property owner, citing the General Mahamatra, Akademiya Scribe, and Sumeru’s renowned Architect as her colleagues. Despite introducing herself as the Lord of Dendro, the owner didn’t seem too keen on making the necessary updates to the property. Nahida sighed as she pulled out her ace.
“I guess I’ll have to call my good friend, Tighnari-” At the mention of his name, the owner seemed to cower and quickly agreed that the place needed fixing up and volunteered to do so in the following weeks, free of charge.
After the owner had left, Nahida went to sit beside Scaramouche on the decking of what would be their new home. His eyes still had not drifted from the sky despite the sun having fallen past the horizon.
“Kuni?” she asked cautiously. Scaramouche sighed as he finally gazed down at the child-like God.
“That’s not…”
“It is. I know you don’t want to accept it, but it is. Just as Scaramouche and Kabukimono is. They’re parts of your identity even you couldn’t forget.” He said nothing for a long while and they listened to the chirping of crickets.
Scaramouche broke the silence. “You asked me, before you left, what makes a Mother.” Nahida was caught off-guard by the sudden topic but inclined her head to listen. “I don’t know. I don’t know what makes a Mother because I-I’ve never had one…but I’ve had friends, brothers, fathers—he turned to Nahida—and a childish God who invites me out to play hopscotch.” Nahida giggled at the rare joke. “I don’t know what makes a Mother, but I know what it feels like to have people care for you and for you to care for others as well. Even though I am a puppet, I’m still the far too emotional and rejected creation of Raiden Ei.”
Nahida didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything. This sounded far too much like a final goodbye for her heart to take it. She didn’t have any obligation to this abandoned puppet, he’d made that vehemently clear since they’d met but, she had an obligation to a friend.
Nahida placed a small hand over Scaramouche’s much cooler one. He didn’t flinch or brush it away like he usually did. He just sighed as he took off his hat to reveal…her?
Nahida took the doll from his hands with his permission and examined it with a smile wide on her face. It was beautiful! The white dress with green accents, the flowing hair, and even the eyes were all reminiscent of herself. As she stared down at the doll, she could feel a wetness glide down her cheek.
For as long as she could remember, any image of her was of a grown-up, mature, wise goddess who was so much more experienced than she was. That God was loved, trusted, and needed by her people. Sometimes, she couldn’t help but doubt herself, but seeing this doll, she felt she was needed.
“So childish,” Scaramouche said as he wiped away a fallen tear. He pulled Nahida into a hug as the Goddess cried on his shoulder. Scaramouche rubbed her back much like you would a crying child. So many people were unsure of how to treat her or ignored her completely but the motions of someone physically comforting you were the most reassuring in the world.
She may have been centuries old, but she was still a child in the lifespan of an Archon. Rarely was she ever able to exhibit such childish behaviors in front of people other than a select few. Those select few meant the world to her for allowing her to be herself in their presence. She wanted Scaramouche to feel the same way.
“You should’ve told me about the nightmares,” Nahida said once she calmed down. “I could’ve helped you.” Scaramouche pulled her away.
“I know. I should have.” That…was surprising. Nahida expected him to deny it, to reject her offer of help and carry on by himself. “I…didn’t want to feel like more of a burden.”
“Burden?”
“Throughout the lives I’ve lived, I’ve caused nothing but harm to the people important to me. I…didn’t want the same to happen to you,” he confessed. Nahida chuckled as she tip-toed to pat his head.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m not your Mother…but how about we say I’m your Aunty? Ooh! Or Sister?” Scaramouche shook his head with a smile.
“No, atrocious.”
“Oh, what about Grandmother!”
“Stop it!” he laughed.
***
Kaveh couldn’t help but be a little apprehensive when Nahida told him of her plans to move out. In all honesty, she hadn’t stayed with them for very long but he quickly became attached to the little Archon. She, like Kaveh, had an eye for details and design and even a stubborn mule like Alhaitham found it difficult to oppose her. More than the arguments he won, he’d miss doing the little things together like baking and working on projects together. He told Alhaitham as such and like a steady wall for Kaveh to lean on, he was reassuring.
“You’re just as much of a genius as I am, Kaveh.” The blonde chuckled.
“Were you not the one reprimanding the Akademiya for using the word genius to describe its students not too long ago?” The Scribe shuffled in his seat, inching just a little bit closer to Kaveh on the couch. He didn’t comment on it.
“And I stand by that, but—he looked at Kaveh—you’re not just some other student from the Akademiya, Kaveh.”
“Pfft, what am I then? Oh! Let me guess, an empathetic fungus?” Alhaitham didn’t seem to take the joke. His gaze was unwavering and certain.
“You’re a brilliant Architect, a bright-minded individual, a passionate and caring soul, and…so much more than that.” Kaveh looked at the other wide-eyed who’d finally broken away from his gaze. “I wish you’d give yourself more credit. It was you who did all those things for our friends, not me. I can barely form a sentence…around others….but you make it seem so easy.”
Kaveh wasn’t really sure what to make of Alhaitham’s declaration. It sounded like the Scribe was…praising him. Something he’s never done before in all their years together.
“H-Haitham,” he stuttered, “What’s brought this on?” Alhaitham looked back at him with a new expression. His eyes softened, his jaw slackened and the stress lines were gone.
“I realized…a long time ago what it is I feel for you, Kaveh, but I never acted on those feelings.” Kaveh gasped. “I never knew how to express myself so my solution was to stay close to you, enjoy what little time we’ll have together as classmates, friends, roommates, whatever. It never mattered what we were to each other as long as I was able to stay with you.”
“Oh, Haitham.”
“But then we had some guests come over and that changed everything. I saw how happy you were playing with the kids and all I could think to myself was how I wanted to see you like that every day for the rest of our lives.”
Kaveh began tearing up, but Alhaitham was quick to wipe it away. He smiled softly as he did so and Kaveh felt like he was melting. He grabbed Alhaitham’s hand and nuzzled into his palm. That gave Alhaitham the confidence he needed to continue.
“I love you, Kaveh. I’ve loved you ever since you were my Senior and I, your Junior. You’ve…always…been my light in the dark—Kaveh chuckled—I hope you know how much you mean to me.”
Kaveh swept his Junior into a hug and they cuddled on the couch for a long while. He stroked back Alhaitham’s hair as the other lay on his chest. They talked and laughed into the late night, their worries forgotten.
***
“So your solution for me to open up was to stick me with two idiot mortals who, despite being the renowned geniuses of their Akademiya Darshans, had yet to realize their feelings for each other?”
“It worked didn’t it?” Nahida replied with a bounce to her tone. She and Scaramouche were walking along the city street at night, not quite ready to return home to Alhaitham and Kaveh.
“Nahida, they shared a fucking bed and were still oblivious. These people represent your Nation, does that not concern you?” Nahida giggled as she leaned down to admire the soft glow of a padisarah in the moonlight.
“And despite how much attention and affection I showered over you, you neglected to realize you could depend on me. You may have been born a puppet, Kuni, but you’re just as human as anyone else.” She gestured towards the anemo vision that hung over his heart. “And that is proof.” She got up from her crouched position and began walking off. “C’mon, I think I saw a nice little tavern around here. Let’s get you some of those pita chips!”
Scaramouche sighed but followed the little goddess anyway with a small smile on his face.