Chapter Text
All Alhaitham knows is from his books, and all the books said the same thing: love and genies weren’t supposed to mix, and adding humans to the equation usually only brought disaster. Ever since he’d been cursed and shoved into a domain he couldn’t leave, he’s had none of the physicality to participate in or witness many of the experiences his beloved books described, and so he had resigned himself to his fate a long time ago.
Nonetheless, Alhaitham has had time to ruminate, over a decade to wonder about what love and the life outside was like, and perhaps it's the part of him that's still human that begs for more than the stillness of his prison.
But now, here stands a human who has introduced himself as Kaveh, an architect, slightly bewildered and bedraggled, and Alhaitham thinks that maybe things could be different, after all. Maybe now he understands what all the fuss the “love at first sight” trope is about. Maybe they could be the first to not end in tragedy.
He’s almost as tall as Alhaitham’s favoured form is, but much leaner and more slender. He has pale, gleaming skin and soft cheeks that are dusted with some rosiness. Red clips in the shoulder-length golden hair with brown tips try their best to keep a rapidly disentangling braid intact, the wispy strands that have escaped frame his face. The dark circles underneath incredibly red eyes do not reduce the piercing vibrance in them—Alhaitham is sure that if he could dream, those crimson orbs would haunt him in his sleep as well. An angular, handsome nose and jawline offset the delicate features of his eyes and hair, though it takes nothing away from his beauty.
Kaveh is, despite the dirt clinging to him, well-dressed and well-bejewelled in swathes of deep, rich colours. Upon a closer look, they seem to be cheaper imitations of true luxury, but the way Kaveh wears them suggests that they could be made of the finest silk in the land. A smatter of freckles covers his face and the back of his hands, and through the small chest window of his fluttery white blouse, Alhaitham can see some speckles there too.
But even with his unbelievably good looks, there’s this aura about him. An air of genuineness that spawns in mere seconds. Alhaitham cannot even bring himself to be suspicious of him—not when he’s been so lacking in socialisation. Not when Alhaitham, despite his broad vocabulary, is at a loss of how to explain just how impossibly beautiful Kaveh just seems to be. Something in his heart just knows Kaveh’s special, his own elemental senses sparking at the new proximity of the blond man. The man seems to exude a light that shines from both out and within, and it begets the question: who truly is the magical creature here?
Alhaitham eventually realises that as he’s imagining running his fingers over every sliver of skin Kaveh’s outfit shares (it’s almost inappropriate, just how gorgeous those little peeks are), he’s probably just staring at Kaveh for way too long than is normal in human society.
Thankfully, Kaveh doesn’t seem to notice Alhaitham’s blatant oogling.
“For a genie with so much power at your disposal, your home is terribly decorated.” The human remarks off-handedly as he surveys the room Alhaitham is confined to. “Ordinarily, I’m not one to disparage one’s idea of home and the comfortability they find in it, but this room is truly an affront to the eyes.”
How amusing.
Most people would stand there trembling, either from fear or from a rush of newfound power and knowledge, upon discovering a jinni. Alhaitham’s kind is rare, and their full range of abilities and existence as a whole are hotly debated. Kaveh, however, seems unbothered by the correct assumption of Alhaitham’s nature. Kaveh doesn’t falter when Alhaitham’s extraordinary gaze meets his own, no, he looks right into Alhaitham’s eyes. Multiple times even, unafraid. He’s unconcerned by the wisps of smoke below Alhaitham’s torso and Alhaitham’s overall ghostly pallor (but blushes at the prominence of the muscles in Alhaitham’s biceps when Alhaitham crosses his arms).
How vexing, how lovely.
Alhaitham is curious about what this particular man must have gone through, to make him so nonchalant about meeting a magical entity such as Alhaitham.
He replies dryly, “You’ll have to direct me on the latest styles then, human.”
Kaveh looks at him, pleased surprise written all over his face. Perhaps he isn’t scared of Alhaitham, but it’s clear he holds some respect, at the very least. “You would let me?”
Truth be told, the straggler is correct about the poor taste in decoration. The colours are mismatched, the materials contradictory, and the paintings are horrendous. There isn’t much in the room in general besides the furniture that is randomly placed: a coffee table, a tall, plain lamp, a moss-coloured divan, and thousands of books, newspapers, magazines, and other literature pertaining to any and all topics stacked precariously high. The papers randomly appear as the days go on, a small blessing offered by his captors (most likely so that Alhaitham doesn’t go insane from boredom). No front door, because Alhaitham isn’t able to leave anyway, and a door that could not be opened to an exit would be a grim, ironic reminder.
But it is not as if Alhaitham had much choice when he created all the furniture in this room. He can read about aesthetics all he wants, but when his last glimpse of the outside world was from the viewpoint of an already bookish ten-year-old, how can he implement any prettier, more modern designs?
He’s also just too lazy to truly try and put any thought into what has essentially been his prison for 10-something years, so that’s that.
But a flicker of hope stands here in front of him, and Alhaitham will be damned if he lets his chance go after so many years since his last visit. He says, “You said you were an architect that hails from Sumeru City, did you not? I’m sure you know a little something about interior design if that’s the case.”
The blonde harrumphs, but it is in a humorous manner. “I know more than just a little, Mister Alhaitham.”
Alhaitham’s blood runs cold. The human knows his real name.
Only a select few know his name, and those are mostly his captors who were once close to his family. Kaveh, whether he knows it or not, could acquire absolute power over Alhaitham just by uttering his name.
Alhaitham keeps up his stoic expression and says, “Good.”
Alhaitham doesn’t expect the man to actually teach him about various wood types and what colour theory means when it comes to the brightness of the room, but Kaveh does. He’s exuberant as he talks, obviously educated and passionate about the subject while Alhaitham half-sits, half-hovers on the green divan, still and quiet, watching as Kaveh moves around the room and points out things that Alhaitham should change. It’s both amusing and endearing, that Kaveh treats Alhaitham as if he were any other client.
Alhaitham waits for Kaveh to finally reveal his true intentions, declare himself Alhaitham’s master, and make Alhaitham bend to his will. But Kaveh simply prattles on till he realises that he’s been talking for five minutes straight without a word of interruption from the djinn bemusedly watching him. He then looks at Alhaitham, abashed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Oh, apologies, I’ve been talking for a while. But please do try and take some of my ideas into consideration. You’ll have a much lovelier place to come back to then.”
Alhaitham doesn’t bother to tell Kaveh that he wouldn’t be able to leave to come back to this place anyway. He just nods, too enamoured by the presence of another voice (and what a lovely voice it is, a surprisingly low timbre that comes from such a pretty man).
Alhaitham eventually regains his speech. “Are you going to ask for me to fulfil all of your wishes now?” Alhaitham asks bluntly. “Because I should tell you right now that I can’t do them all right after one another, it expends a lot of my energy.”
Kaveh raises a manicured eyebrow upwards. ”I didn’t know that those legends were true. But no, I am not your master, and I have nothing I really wish for at the moment. Besides if I could have some water? I don’t see a kitchen, do you not eat?”
Alhaitham doesn’t correct Kaveh about the possibility of being bound to him, he will keep as much of his free will as he can.
“I can, but I don’t need to. Same reason why I have no bed or bathroom, I simply revert to my original form to regain some energy.” He explains.
“Oh, interesting.” Kaveh hesitates, and then asks, “Could I see what you look like in that form?”
Alhaitham nods and transforms into what looks like a large, silvery floating diamond with green swirls of light curling around it. In this state, Alhaitham can’t really speak or even feel all that much, he is nothing but pure light. He reverts back and waves his hand to summon a jug of water and a glass for Kaveh, internally preening at the look of amazement on Kaveh’s face.
Kaveh pokes the ceramic jug as if to check if it’s real, smiling widely once his finger touches the cool surface. “That’s a neat bit of magic!” Kaveh says excitedly. “What else can you do?”
What a question that is.
Alhaitham himself isn’t sure what he’s capable of. Even with all the books he’s filled his room with, he’s not been granted much actual knowledge of genies beyond the very basics. “I am not sure.” He admits. “But I can change the layout of this room as I wish, and I can shapeshift into many animals."
Kaveh, rather than seeming disappointed, smiles. “Then I suppose we shall find out for ourselves in time.” Then he pauses, and a teasing expression replaces the curious glimmer in his eyes. “But you’re telling me you have full control of this place and you designed it like this ?”
Alhaitham simply scowls, and Kaveh lets out a good-natured laugh. A few moments pass in silence as Kaveh drinks the glass of water. He must have been parched, as he drains the first and a second glassful quickly. Kaveh notices Alhaitham staring and coughs awkwardly after he’s done. “I, er, had a long day on the construction site.”
“What are you building?” Alhaitham asks, curious.
Kaveh’s eyes light up, clearly excited to talk about his current project. “It’s a summer home for the king when he eventually needs some time off! His financial advisor, Dori, commissioned me and gave me total creative freedom yet again, but I’ve never had…”
Alhaitham stops properly listening after Kaveh mentions the name of the advisor. Surely she can’t be Lord Dori Sangemah Bay, the head of commerce and trade who had sent Alhaitham’s parents on the trip that led to their death? But as Kaveh talks about her status and prestige, it can only be her.
Nothing had ever been confirmed, there was no concrete evidence to suggest that it had been anything other than an unfortunate accident. Alhaitham’s parents were on an expedition to personally discuss diplomatic relations in various cities in Liyue and on their way back, met a grisly end that was never fully detailed to both the public and Alhaitham.
But Alhaitham just knows, somehow, that she knew what she was doing when she advised them on their journey. That she was in on the convoluted plan to take over Sumeru from within and squeeze power away from the royal bloodline from the start, and she had planned an assassination that left Sumeru in the hands of a secretly corrupt royal council.
Alhaitham is suddenly hit with a feeling of dread, a gut feeling that screams that Kaveh should be nowhere near Dori.
What could she be planning with him? Nothing good, he’s sure.
Alhaitham looks at Kaveh, that bright shine in his eyes, that excitable gesturing as he talks about granite pillars and carved stucco and cedarwood for a summer home that will most likely never house the king.
And he can’t tell him why. He cannot tell Kaveh why he knows that she’s more sinister than Kaveh thinks, even though he so desperately wants to warn him.
“...Alhaitham? Hey, are you listening?” Kaveh snaps his fingers in front of the genie’s face when he notices that the jinni’s expression had barely changed.
“Kaveh. How did you get in here?” Alhaitham asks stiffly, ignoring the question.
“O—oh, Dori saw me eying this ornate oil lamp from some of her personal wares and gave it to me for free while we were working on a project in the desert. Then, when I brought the lamp home, I forgot that my cat, Mehrak, has a fondness for shiny things.” Kaveh’s eyes glitter with fond amusement. “She tried to run off with the lamp, and I grabbed it and must have rubbed it really hard because poof! I was suddenly transported into your realm. I gotta say, I thought for sure that the notion of genies living in bottles was a myth.”
“I see.”
So Dori somehow didn’t realise that the object Alhaitham’s captors had placed him in had been within her possession, and had just given it away. Alhaitham supposes it’s a good thing she didn’t know what power she had at her disposal.
Unless she had given it to Kaveh on purpose?
He asks the next question that had been sitting heavily on his mind since he can’t ask the first one. “And my name? How did you know it?”
“The tiny inscription on your bottle. I’m no Haravatat student, so it took me the whole journey back to translate it. I haven’t come upon ancient Deshretan languages in a long time, it was a fun challenge.” Kaveh replies.
“You know ancient Deshretan?”
Ancient Deshretan was quite a complicated language, a mix of alphabets, symbols, and sounds with even weirder grammar. Only the gods and specific royal bloodlines used it, and most had died with the knowledge before being able to share it with the rest of the world. Even nowadays, it was uncommon for the Haravatat Darshan to explore it, simply because of just how much had been lost to time.
Kaveh nods. “Only a bit. It’s apparently the king’s native language, but no one but his parents were really capable of speaking it. And since they’re gone…I thought if I ever met him in person, I would speak to him in one his family treasured so deeply. The king is notorious for never making any public appearances though, so that opportunity may never come.”
Alhaitham’s heart swells with previously unknown affection. Kaveh didn’t even know the king, and if Alhaitham’s guess was right, he was a Kshahrewar alumnus, which meant he’d learnt technology and machinery, the “opposite” of literature. Yet Kaveh had started learning a whole difficult language, just in case.
Alhaitham wants to tell him the truth. By the gods, he does, it feels wrong to lie to a man who so obviously lives with his heart on his sleeve, who doesn’t shy away from being an open book. But his other masters have forbidden him, and so those words cannot come out of Alhaitham’s mouth.
“I’m sure he’d appreciate it if he knew.” Alhaitham replies in that same dialect, in lieu of what he actually wants to say.
Kaveh’s eyes widen and he grins. “You know it too?!” Then, he facepalms. “Ah wait, what am I saying? You’re a genie, of course you would know it, you were born during that era, right?”
“I was and I wasn’t.” Alhaitham says, the tone more ominous than it needs to be. It is, however, the truth. His powers, his affinity for magic, and his divinity may be centuries old, but the “body” that houses them, isn’t.
Kaveh’s eyebrow quirks upwards. “Interesting.” Then, his face lights up with an idea. “Do you think you can teach me more? I won’t share it with any scholars if you don’t want me to, I can understand if it’s an important secret for your kind.”
Alhaitham weighs the pros and cons. If more people learnt Ancient Deshretan, then the chances of more people translating his name and trying to take control of him would be a lot higher. But at the same time, Alhaitham is a man who loves history and linguistics, loves the nitty-gritty analysis of dead languages, and like many scholars, seeks knowledge and the truth. If he had been a regular person from Sumeru, he would have probably enrolled in Haravatat and continued researching long after he graduated. It would feel...almost wrong, to restrain such knowledge now that he has a link to the human realm once again.
He takes a small breath, considers it once more, and says, “Sure, I’ll teach you. You can teach others as well. But don’t expect me to be a good teacher.”
Kaveh lets out a little chuckle. “I look forward to your lessons anyway.”
Unbidden, a smile creeps onto Alhaitham’s face.
Kaveh opens his mouth to say something else before apparently coming to a sudden realisation. Kaveh stands up abruptly and clears his throat. “Ah, I should go back soon, Mehrak’s probably super confused by my sudden disappearance and will be cranky if I don’t feed her dinner on time.”
Alhaitham feels a small twinge of disappointment at his time with the blonde being cut short. “Ah, understandable.”
"So, uh, when exactly should I come back? Does time work differently here? Because I wouldn’t want to intrude—”
“As far as I’m aware, there’s no time difference. And just rub the lamp, you may come back whenever.” Alhaitham waves his hand dismissively. “You are free to come and go as you please.”
“Oh, lovely. My schedule is a little busy at the moment, but I'd love to come by again in a few days if that works for you." Alhaitham nods in response, and Kaveh continues, "And, er, I imagine you don’t want me to advertise that you live here and deal with unexpected guests?”
Alhaitham nods once more. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anybody about my specific nature, genies are often sought after to be experimented on and I’d rather not meet that same fate.”
“Of course, I understand.” Kaveh says sincerely.
“If you do wish to refer to me in the company of others…you can call me Haitham.”
Anyone who tried to command Alhaitham around with that nickname would quickly find that it wouldn’t work, so it should be fine for now. Even if Kaveh accidentally let his full name slip, mastery over genies also has a lot to do with intention, intensity, and connection. One has to put in a lot of effort if they want to control a jinn.
“Haitham…” Kaveh tests out the name, drawing out the syllables. Alhaitham thinks that his name has never sounded so pretty before it was spoken from Kaveh’s mouth. “Thank you for the water and your company. I’ll be back as soon as I have some free time!”
Alhaitham nods and waves his hand once more, and the human disappears, but not before flashing Alhaitham a wide smile.