Thread by @mmmoa0

#haikaveh/#kavetham drabble based of hc that Kv was born in the desert. CW: mild blood/injury

Kaveh was born in the desert. He grew up quite poor and was used to the threat of violence at the hands of treasure hoarders and mercenaries. So, he is used to defending himself, even

from those in his own community, who thought him weak due to his love of art, beauty, and learning. He grew up with bruised knuckles stained with blood even with fingernails stained with paint and ink.

He fought tooth and nail to study in the Akademiya and most people were

were unaware of his upbringing.

Kaveh, the Light of Kshahrewar, master architect, a fighter? Preposterous.

People tended to see his fine clothes, slender wrists, and sunny smile, and underestimated him.

Haitham was once one of them.

So, it's at a tavern on the outskirts of the city, Haitham having been bullied into joining his Haravatat seniors for a drink when he noticed the blond across the room.

He's unsurprised to see Kaveh out. The man's a known social butterfly and enjoyer of good wine. Ignoring the

increasingly drunken ramblings of his senior, he watches the Kshahrewar student, taking note of the way the lighting gives his hair a molten-gold glow and makes his eyes glimmer as brightly as any pyro Vision.

He also takes note of the rather shady person Kaveh appeared to

be chatting with. Haitham's eyes narrow as the man places a hand on Kaveh's back, leaning in very close. Haitham knows Kaveh's friends who are close enough to be in his space like that, and the man isn't one of them.

Kaveh appears to be relatively unbothered, raising an

intrigued eyebrow at whatever the the man is whispering into his ear. A moment later, they both stand, and Kaveh follows the man out of a door nestled in the very back of the tavern.

Two other men follow them.

Alhaitham stands abruptly, cutting off whatever his senior was

blabbering about.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"Bathroom."

Haitham hurries towards the door he saw Kaveh go through. He leans his ears against the door, but the rest of the tavern is too loud to hear anything beyond it. Opening the door reveals an alleyway behind the tavern.

He sees no one, looking left and right. He doesn't need to look for clues, however, because he suddenly hears shouting and the telltale sound of fists hitting flesh.

Haitham runs to one end of the alleyway and pauses, opting to peek around the corner to assess the situation.

Unexpectedly, a tooth flies past his face.

A loud thud follows the tooth as its owner slams to the ground, flat on his back. He's out cold.

Another glance shows one of the other men in a similar state, slumped against the wall. The last remaining assailant weilds a knife and

is rushing Kaveh with an angry yell.

Kaveh grabs the man's wrist and twists, forcing the arm's angle to a painful degree and causing the man's grip to weaken.The knife falls to the ground. The man, easily twice Kaveh's bulk, looks shocked for exactly one second before

he's forced to his knees by a powerful knee to the gut. The man wheezes, winded, and doesn't defend against the ruthless kick to the face.

Haitham barely notices the details, as he's preoccupied with staring at the feral expression on Kaveh's face, upper lip curled in a snarl

and eyes blazing fire.

He's absolutely gorgeous.

"Fucking amateurs," Kaveh spits to the now unconscious man before him, kneeling down to pluck what Haitham assumes is his wallet from the man's pocket.

Haitham must not be as discrete as he thought, because the other student

whirls around to call, "If you're with them, I suggest you just leave."

Haitham straightens, taking a deep breath before he rounds the corner into the light.

"I'm certainly thankful that I'm not with them," he says, showing his palms to show he means no harm.

The Kshahrewar student's eyes narrow for a moment, before they go wide. That sunny smile that Haitham has watched others bask in is suddenly thrown at him, and it's almost enough to blind him.

"Hey, I know you! You're Rifaet's junior, Alhaitham, yeah?"

Haitham pointedly stares

at the three unconscious men in the alleyway, raising an eyebrow.

Suddenly, the senior student looks embarrassed, scratching the back of his head.

"Er, would you be willing to not tell anyone about what you just saw? The Akademiya prohibits violence amongst students, you know."

As if that's the biggest issue here.

Haitham's eyes hone in the bruises forming on the other's knuckles. He frowns.

"Your hands are injured."

Kaveh tilts his head questioningly, glancing down at the bruises with disregard. He laughs.

"Ah, are you worred about that?

They'll heal within the week, I assure you! How cute of my junior to worry about me."

Haitham rolls his eyes.

"It would be unfortunate if the source of your livelyhood as an architect and builder would become unusable. It is, after all, your only marketable skill."

Kaveh's jaw drops in offense, scowling at the junior student.

"So rude! Rifaet mentioned that you were prickly, but not that you were so disrespectful to your seniors!"

"Hm... I would consider it, if the senior in question didn't fight in the streets like a hoodlum."

"Why, you-!"

"Why did you follow him here anyway? He obviously didn't have good intentions."

"Ah, well, he pick-pocketed me while we were talking, and I wanted to get my wallet back, so -"

Haitham's jaw goes slack in disbelief.

"That's absurdly reckless."

"Well, I didn't know he had backup!"

"That's. . . Not the point."

Kaveh throws his hands up, irritated with the conversation.

"Look, can you just keep quiet about what you saw? And help me take care of these guys? I'll treat you to lunch, a coffee,

whatever your preference, just..."

Kaveh sighs.

"Look, I'm on a scholarship. I can't be reported for fighting..."

Haitham stares hard at the senior student, but only to gather his composure in the face of those borderline lethal sad kitten eyes. He absolutely needs to never

see those again.

"...Fine. But make it a week of lunch. And," he points to Kaveh's hand, "let me treat your injuries."

Kaveh frowns, looking a bit taken aback by the conditions, but cautiously nods his head.

"Deal."

As it turns out, Haitham's sole contribution to detaining

the muggers was to get the attention of a patrolling matra. Because Kaveh is absurdly strong for his size and just... ties them individually with their own rope and belts. He picks them up like sacks of potatoes and maneuvers over 250 pounds of dead weight at a time like

nothing.

As he sits in front of Kaveh, pressing antiseptic to the split skin and ignoring the other's whining, he stares at what muscle he can see, trying to make sense of it. In the end, he just feels the pressing urg to start lifting weights.

After all, even if Haitham will

never make the mistake of underestimating Kaveh ever again...

He still wants to become a man that Kaveh can rely on.

//END

Tldr: Kaveh can probably deadlift his feeble scholar~