Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The request comes to rest on his needlessly large table early one morning. It is delivered by an unassuming matra, some newcomer he’s never seen before, someone whose name he doesn’t know, which, for some reason, hinders him in calling the soldier back in order to ask further questions about the request. His bare fingers crinkle the paper where they’re resting against the neat, formulaic writing.

The noise of the elevator's descent fills the hollow cavern on the Grand Sage’s new office and he sits there silently, trying to comprehend the words that his eyes are roving over. In the moments between his waking at dawn, the tea he’d had in his home, and his arrival to his office, he hasn’t forgotten how to read. So why, then, is he having so much difficulty with the presented request?

‘General Mahamatra Cyno’, the request is signed in all the right spots, the looping scrawl familiar and elegant, i’s dotted and t’s crossed.

There is nothing overtly wrong with the request and no matter how many times he scans through it, he can’t find any signs of falsification or tampering.

There is nothing wrong with the request aside from the fact that it’s a request for time off from the General Mahamatra himself. Which wouldn’t be that odd if it had any precedence. But the General Mahamatra taking time off is unheard of. Not once in his years of service to the Akademiya.

His eyes water from how intensely he’d been staring at the paper which sat under his palms innocently. This is – this is something new. It is possibly something bad. He’s not entirely sure how or why, but he feels unease at the prospect of the General Mahamatra not being at his post and readily available at any given time – should he need his assistance.

The request form only needs his signature and a stamp for it to be put into effect – dated from tomorrow and lasting three whole weeks. His hand darts towards the stamp because he is going to approve it – there is no reason for him not to, despite his personal grievances with the Mahamatra’s absence – but, in an unusual surge of curiosity, he wants an explanation.

He slams the Akademiya stamp onto the paper with perhaps more force than necessary and signs his own under the Mahamatra’s name. He then stands from the desk, marching towards the elevator to perform, what is possibly a very stupid act of calling Panah to fetch the General.

Never let it be said that he’s one for letting sleeping dogs lie.

“You wanted to see me, Grand Sage?” The General Mahamatra is speaking before he’s even halfway across the cavernous space within the House of Daena.

“Yes, I have a few questions regarding-” He pauses, eyes taking the other’s appearance in shocked silence.

It seems as though the General has started his vacation early because Cyno stands before him without his headdress and with some of his usual adornments missing. Cyno’s hair catches light from the undulating and spinning mechanism that takes up most of the room’s center space, making it glow, giving the Mahamatra a halo of sorts.

He clears his throat.

“Panah, would you give us the room?” His tone leaves no argument and the newly-appointed Mahamatra gives him a shaky nod before moving towards the elevator at a hurried pace.

“What is the meaning of this?” Cyno’s shoulders square out, his body slotting itself into the posture of the General Mahamatra naturally, and only now does Alhaitham realize just how relaxed the other had been upon entering the office.

“I understand that you have requested three weeks off from your Mahamatra duties.” He steeples his fingers together in front of his face, trying and failing to be comfortable in the large chair that was left to him by his predecessor.

“I have, yes. Though, Grand Sage, pardon me if I’m speaking out of turn by noting that, requesting vacation days is hardly cause for a summons to your office.” The other crosses his arms over his chest, amber eyes sharp as they pierce through Alhaitham with their intensity. “Is there something wrong with my request form?”

He stares at the Mahamatra and contemplates what exactly it is that he is doing here. Certainly, the sudden request had sparked his curiosity, but he usually knew better than to chase the itches his brain would sometimes demand he scratch. A lapse in judgment, that’s for certain – this hasn’t happened to him in a while.

“No, your form was perfectly in order and your request has been approved.” He concedes, looking away as he shuffles the papers in front of him until he finds Cyno’s form so he can show it to the requester himself.

The other’s stance loosens, arms falling to his sides. “Then why am I here, Alhaitham?”

The use of his name jars something within his chest and a heavy sigh manages to slip past his guard, the sound too-loud in their shared silence.

“I suppose I am… curious.” He forces himself not to fidget with any and all available objects near him. “This is the first time ever that you’ve requested time off from your duties – not counting your self-imposed exile, of course. I had merely assumed that the sudden request would warrant some sort of in-depth explanation. But, if you would prefer not to disclose your reasoning, I will oblige your request for privacy.”

Cyno stares at him for a couple of moments before – before rolling his eyes in an exaggerated motion that has Alhaitham’s shoulders tensing.    

“It’s hardly any of your business what I do in my free time or why I’m requesting days off.” The other huffs, shaking out his halo of white hair. “But, since you went through the trouble of actually summoning me here, I guess I can tell you.”

Alhaitham nods, at a loss for words and stunned by the abrupt shift in the other’s behavior. It’s as if a switch has been flipped and the General Mahamatra was replaced by someone who is a veritable stranger to Alhaitham.

“Even before she was cured, Collei had wished to travel further than Sumeru’s borders in order to see more of Teyvat.” The other starts, expression softening at the mention of his unofficial ward. “And now that she is free of her disease, there is nothing preventing her from doing so. When she mentioned this wish again last month, Tighnari had informed me of his plan to secure them passage to Mondstadt where Collei’s best friend resides. He had arranged the trip just in time for the city’s famous Windblume festival, too, which is lucky. I’m going to be joining them to ensure their safe travels.”

“You’re going to Mondstadt. With Collei and Tighnari.” He parrots uselessly, unsure of what he was expecting but somehow surprised still at the actual answer he’d received.

“Is that so hard to believe? It’s been quite a while since I’ve been there, I am looking forward to seeing it in all its festive glory.” Cyno’s mouth thins out like he’s trying to smile but failing at the attempt.

Great, now they’re both uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Right, of course. I heard it’s a wonderful city.” He shuffles the papers again, losing the battle of not fidgeting. “Have you designated your replacements for the time you will be gone?”

“Of course, I left a list that was supposed to be delivered to you tomorrow by one of the matra. But since I’m here now, I can just tell you which of them I’ve delegated my duties to.” Cyno approaches the vast desk and picks up one of the papers Alhaitham had used to check if his pen was working and promptly starts writing.

Cyno is speaking while he’s writing, no doubt listing every positive quality of the chosen underlings and his reasoning behind said choices, and he should be paying attention but all Alhaitham can think about in the moment is that he will be without the General Mahamatra’s support for three whole weeks.

For three weeks he will attend meetings, go about his Grand Sage duties, sign papers and approve research projects, all on his own. There will be no quiet strength at his back menacing the arrogant researchers into submission, there will be no padding of feet echoing through the office as Cyno looks through the records lining the walls of the cavernous space, there will be no quiet huffs of displeasure when the Mahamatra is faced with a particularly obvious scam imbedded into one proposal or another.

Apart from sating his curiosity, Cyno has also given him much to think about when it comes to their reluctant partnership.

Mainly, how much of his day to day inner peace relies on Cyno’s quiet but steady presence by his side.

Much to think about, indeed.

“I promise to bring you back a souvenir.” Cyno finishes his spiel, finally drawing Alhaitham’s attention back to himself.

“That – is very kind of you, but not necessary.” He fights to school his expression into neutrality, oddly touched by the thought.

“Nonsense, every traveler worth their esteemed title should know to pick up a bottle of Dandelion wine when visiting Mondstadt.” Cyno waves his hand carelessly through the air and Alhaitham follows the motion with his eyes.

“You are leaving in a couple of days then? For the festival’s beginning?”

“Yes, four days to be precise. We need to make some final preparations for the trip and then we will be on our way.” Cyno hums, nudging the list towards him.

He glances at the paper, not taking any of the names in – it’s not as if he would even recognize any of them anyway – before standing.

“As long as you trust these matra to do their jobs diligently and properly, I will trust your judgment of their capabilities.” Alhaitham comments offhandedly as he rounds the table to stand next to the General, intent on seeing the other out, but the sentence seems to catch the Mahamatra off guard.

Cyno’s eyes widen then dart away from him. “It is unprofessional of you to not double-check my choices, Grand Sage.”

“Do you want me to interrogate every one of your chosen matra?” His mouth quirks up at the idea of Cyno’s underlings quivering in their boots while being subjected to hours of questioning just because Cyno couldn’t believe Alhaitham had faith in his choices.

“No, of course not, but-”

“Your job is to judge, General Mahamatra, is it not?” He cuts the other off and Cyno squints up at him with a curt nod.

“Then I trust you to have judged them capable and that you have judged them well.” He shrugs easily, the last thing he would want to do is give himself more work.

“Right.” Cyno nods, more to himself than for Alhaitham’s eyes. “Will that be all, Grand Sage?”

He loses the fight with neutrality as well and his mouth quirks up at the corners, a small smile at the title he’d so unwillingly accepted.

“That will be all, General Mahamatra. I hope you have a pleasant journey.”

He blinks slowly, feels as though one of his eyes is lagging behind the other as Kaveh tries to talk to him about something related to house they share – as landlord and tenant.

Tries being the keyword here. He’s turned the soundproofing on his headphones way up so the other’s voice is nothing more than a muffled mumble barely reaching his consciousness. He takes a sip of his coffee and hums at the taste, which – judging by his smile – Kaveh takes as confirmation to whatever he was saying.

Alhaitham turns his eyes away from the architect and stares out the window of their kitchen where he’d had the misfortune of coming across his roommate that morning. Their street is busy as usual this time of day – people going to and from the library, the bazaar, the docks, with their things in bags and their children on their hips and…

White hair.

He perks up, setting his now-empty mug down and getting up from the table in the same instance. That same persistent itch that had tricked him into calling Cyno to his office now propels him out of the kitchen and towards the front door, following some invisible thread that will lead him to where he’d seen the General Mahamatra’s distinct figure.

“What?! Where are you going?!” Kaveh calls after him, voice loud enough to be jarring as Alhaitham turns the soundproofing down, letting the noises filter back in.

“Out.” He pushes through the door and to the railing of the walkway platform. He leans over and scans the people passing through the city. He manages to catch Cyno just as he’s entering Puspa Café. He rushes down the walkway and maneuvers around the mingling citizens. He’s driven by a heedless desire to speak to the General Mahamatra once again, almost as if he’s covetously hoarding interactions with the other to tide him over until the General returns.

Alhaitham had not done much thinking since two days ago when he’d had the General summoned to his office, despite what he’d told himself, which is an oversight on his part.

He enters the café, ducking away from prying eyes until he spots Cyno sitting in one of the nooks to the side. The gentle rushing of the indoors fountain intertwines with the quiet murmur of the morning crowd as he takes the empty seat across from the General.

Cyno looks up, eyes wide – both of them visible for once, Alhaitham notes – and the movement of his hands falters.

“Grand Sage Alhaitham.” Cyno hushes out, seemingly surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve run out of coffee at home so this was the second best option until I can procure more of my preferred blend.” A lie, an innocent one to cover up the fact that he’s behaving erratically and irrationally.

“And you’ve decided that sitting with me is agreeable this fine morning.” The Mahamatra raises an eyebrow but nothing about his posture changes – which in and of itself is strange. He’s used to seeing Cyno tense up at his presence, expecting either a verbal spar or some other remark that will irritate him to come from Alhaitham.

“Does the General Mahamatra find my presence offensive? Or perhaps are you waiting for someone? If that is the case, I will seat myself elsewhere.” He scans the café again, noting that there aren’t many seats available if one wishes to have privacy. But, it’s not as if he’s willing to just leave without the coffee. He’s doomed himself to another cup either way and yet he still refuses to admit to himself outright that he’s being foolish.

Cyno grimaces and begins collecting – collecting the Genius Invocation TCG cards that he was shuffling through prior to the interruption into a thick deck. “Please, I’m on vacation, if you would be so kind as to forego my title, just Cyno will do.”

“Cyno,” Alhaitham repeats, somewhat taken aback by the request. It makes sense, he supposes, that the other would want to avoid all reminders of his stressful duties while taking time off from said stressful duties.

“In that case, since you are not one of my Mahamatra at the moment, just Alhaitham will do.” He decides that this is the most favorable course of the conversation. Since he has no actual goal here, he’s condemned himself to small talk – a waste of everyone’s time.

“Right, of course.” Cyno nods seriously and shoves his deck of cards into a case somewhat hurriedly, almost as if he’s embarrassed to be seen with them – even though everyone knows of his hobby.

The waitress comes by their table to take their order, saving either of them from having to start an inane conversation for the moment. He orders his coffee, grimacing at the fact that he’ll have to drink it so soon after his previous one.

“You never answered; are you waiting for someone? Should I vacate the spot?” He tilts his head patiently, waiting for the other to gather his thoughts.

“No.” Cyno shakes his head, his hair falling back to cover one of his eyes in a familiar visage. “I am meeting up with Tighnari and Collei later today, but I wanted a cup of coffee and to, um, organize my cards first.”

“Your prized deck.” Alhaitham nods, remembering faintly that he’d heard about how brutally the Mahamatra plays the card game.

“Yes,” The other nods enthusiastically. “I’ve spent months collecting and buying cards to make the deck nigh unbeatable. It’s the only thing I allow myself to spare no expenses on. I even had this case custom made.” He raises the box to show it off.

It’s certainly – a box to hold cards in. But the leather looks supple and soft and the TCG emblem engraved into its surface is intricate and skilfully crafted. Below the emblem, however, is Cyno’s name which strikes Alhaitham as particularly humorous, bringing a smile to his face.

“The inside is silk to keep the cards from chafing. And as long as it’s sealed tight, it will remain waterproof. I didn’t want to risk getting the cards wet so I paid extra for that option.” Cyno finishes and then snaps his mouth shut in a sudden motion like he can’t believe he’d just told Alhaitham all of that.

“I see. It makes sense to want to protect one’s investment. It also makes sense to want to keep something you hold dear safe, regardless of it’s worth.” He briefly touches the green belt around his waist, the pouch that nobody seems to know is a pouch, as he thinks of his music player.

“I – I’m glad you agree.” Cyno ducks his head and Alhaitham finds the motion oddly endearing. “Most people think of it as a waste of time and money. A silly card game, as they often say.”

“I don’t see why you should care about what most think. If this is your only allowance, it obviously means a great deal to you. I would go as far as to say that, outside of your duties, this is something you’re passionate about. Which is what matters, as opposed to the opinions of those who have not taken the time to know either the game or you.” He finishes his spiel, hands pressed flat to the table in front of him, staring bravely at Cyno who looks shocked.

The waitress comes by with their orders and they both give their thanks before she scuttles away.

“Yes, um. You’re right, of course. It is, however, sometimes difficult to ignore the mockery.” The other admits and now it’s Alhaitham’s turn to be stunned.

He’d never thought that the General Mahamatra took the jokes and the jibes to heart. He always seemed above other people’s opinions of him – why else would he persist with his terrible jokes otherwise? But it seems as though Cyno is just as human as the rest of them.

“I hope I was never one to cause you discomfort.” He frowns, trying to think back to if he’s ever made an offhanded remark that could have hurt Cyno’s feelings.

“No, of course not. We’ve not had much chance to discuss our hobbies,” Cyno’s smile is somewhat sardonic and Alhaitham nods, accepting that as the truth.

“But they, these people, they’re strangers?” He just – Cyno is always so strong, he can’t wrap his brain around the other caring that much.

“The opinions of strangers are easier to ignore, that’s true. But it is more difficult when it comes from some of my matra or Kaveh, for example.” Cyno fiddles with the strap on his card box, avoiding both Alhaitham and the rest of the café.

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Kaveh talks to inanimate objects and sleeps with a night cap on, I wouldn’t take his opinion on anything as valuable.”

His statement seems to shock a laugh out of the Mahamatra and Alhaitham finds himself gaping with his mouth open as the other’s eyes crinkle in mirth, closed fully from the force of his laughter.

“A night cap, you say?” The other’s still chuckling and Alhaitham’s heart lodges into his throat with the need to keep the other smiling.

“Yes, he has one for every sleeping gown he owns. It’s ridiculous.” He grumbles, remembering the space he’d had to sacrifice for Kaveh to expand his closet.

“He really is particular, isn’t he?” Cyno grins, teeth bared and Alhaitham takes careful notice of his ever-so-slightly pointed canines.

“That’s one way of putting it,” He rolls his eyes.

“What about you?” Cyno asks suddenly, leaning back in his seat as he brings the coffee to his nose for a sniff.

“What about me?”

“You know about my hobbies, but I don’t know about yours? If you are in a sharing mood, that is.” Cyno demurs, taking a hearty sip of his beverage.

“I like reading.” He responds without thinking it over. It’s not a secret, of course, everyone knows that he’s rarely sans book in his hands if he’s not attending to his acting Grand Sage duties.

“Come on, Alhaitham, don’t make me beg. I already know you like reading. I need more than that.” Cyno smirks, tone only slightly whiny as he teases.

Don’t make me beg, he says, as if that’s something one says in an everyday ordinary conversation. As if that’s not something that’ll echo through Alhaitham’s brain for days to come.

“I like reading difficult texts, challenging myself into understanding them. I like reading non-fiction, mostly about history.” He clears his throat, somewhat uneasy now that the conversation has turned to him as its topic. “And I like listening to music.”

“Oh?” Cyno leans onto the table, one elbow on the hardwood, palm cupping his face – without a shadow of a doubt giving Alhaitham his undivided attention.

He feels his core heat as the amber eyes focus on him. “Yes. Sometimes if the area around me grows too noisy, and I’m not in the mood for complete silence, I play music through my headphones instead. Classical, I’m fond of the lyre.”

“Do you play?”

“No,” He shakes his head. “It never seemed like something I would be interested in. I was always more keen on academics and books in general. I leave the arts to the truly talented ones.”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing that you’re not a lyre in the end.” Cyno’s deadpan delivery makes him pause.

He blinks slowly, brows furrowing at what he’s just heard.

“You know, you’re honest. Because lyre sounds like liar. And you’re not a liar.” Cyno waves his hand through the air as he explains the joke.

The joke is so unexpected and out of place that Alhaitham staples his fingers in front of his face to keep away the fond smile that is threatening to break through his serious façade.

“I see.” He nods as the corners of his mouth tick up minutely.

However tiny the motion, Cyno’s sharp eyes catch it and his own face breaks out into an unrepentant grin.

“You liked that one.” The confidence is unwarranted but his good cheer is contagious and Alhaitham finds himself smiling and shaking his head.

“Ridiculous.”

“It was bound to happen one of these days.” Cyno shoves his leg out, knocking his foot against Alhaitham’s ankle and he jolts in his seat, unaccustomed to physical contact.

“I will admit, it’s not the worst one you’ve ever told.” He concedes just to watch Cyno’s eyes sparkle.

“I will have to write it down for further use since it made the great Grand Sage Alhaitham laugh.” Cyno taps his fingers against his card case in a happy, staccato motion.

“Laugh is a bit of an overstatement.” He clears his throat, unused to feeling this type of camaraderie even with the ones he’d consider close. Well, closer than acquaintances in any case.

“Give me an hour and I’ll have you laughing.” Cyno sits back abruptly. “Don’t you have work?”

“Ah,” He checks the clock on the café’s wall. He is indeed late. He does not, however, keep strict office hours and most know not to expect him on time. But there is that meeting with some of the Mahamatra he has to attend today…

Sighing, he gets up, “Yes, I suppose I should show up eventually.”

“It was a pleasure in any case.” Cyno looks up at him, eyes wide and expression friendly – open.

“That it was,” He fixes his clothes needlessly just to have something to do with his hands. “Until next time… Cyno.”

“I will be seeing you around.”

Neither mention the still-full cup of coffee that sits untouched on the table as Alhaitham leaves the establishment, Cyno’s guileless expression on his mind.

He hears the loud voices as he opens the front door to his house. They’re cheerful and rambunctious, jovial even. 

He sighs heavily.

It’s been a long day of meetings and incessant whining and whinging for him to do this, do that, ban this person because they’re encroaching on my intellectual property, and I demand funds in order to start my project that will benefit no one but me. The matra Cyno had appointed to take his place in the meetings was a formidable man, tall and wide, but he did not have the General’s reputation nor did he manage to glare the complaining researchers into submission as well – or at all.

So Alhaitham, who was already regarded as somewhat of an odd-one-out in the Akademiya, had been left to suffer eye-rolls and indignant huffs and even a few insults, slandering his name, on his own.

He’s not even left Sumeru and already Alhaitham misses Cyno’s influence in the House of Daena massively.

Which is why he perks up when he recognizes one of the voices as Cyno’s.

He takes off his jacket, dumping it on the coat rack, and makes for the living quarters where the noise is coming from.

Ignoring Kaveh’s squawk of protest as he bumps into the architect who was leaving the room with a tray full of empty cups, he heads straight for where the General Mahamatra is.

“Cyno,” He breathes out, unreasonably grateful to be seeing the other again.

“’Cyno’?!” Kaveh’s voice gets drowned out in the noise of cups crashing into one another and into the metal tray as he, presumably, drops them all over the expensive flooring.

“Alhaitham,” Cyno smiles brightly, waving a little with his free hand, a notebook in his other.

A throat-clear from the side drags his gaze from his tunnel-vision of the Mahamatra and he meets the amused eyes of the Forest Ranger.

“And Tighnari, hello.” He nods, feeling, much to his mortification, that his cheeks are threatening to heat at being so caught out. Doing what? He couldn’t tell you if he tried.

“Hello, Alhaitham,” The Ranger’s eyes dart to Cyno briefly before returning to him. “I hope we’re not intruding. Kaveh invited us for a drink, but this is your house.” Tighnari says cheekily just as Kaveh comes back into the room and the architect huffs in response.

“I live here, too.”

“Yes, unfortunately.” Alhaitham mumbles idly as he takes a seat nearest to Cyno, allowing himself the liberty of claiming the other’s attention for a moment. “And you’re not intruding, don’t be ridiculous.”

“You look worn,” Cyno says suddenly with a squint, leaning closer. “What happened?”

“Ah,” He runs his hands over his thighs, unsure if he’s willing to divulge the information. “It’s been a rather taxing day at the office. The meetings ran long… and things are - more difficult without your presence.”

Cyno’s eyebrows furrow and he clicks with his tongue. “This was a mistake. I’m going back to work tomorrow.” The Mahamatra concludes sternly and Alhaitham’s hand shoots out to flick the other on the forehead in an uncharacteristic act of impulsivity.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He says into the stunned silence of the room. “I’m not going to fall apart just because I’ve had a single tough day at work. Nor will the Akademiya fall into ruin if you go on your vacation. I’ll handle this on my own until you come back. It’ll be fine.”

“But-” Cyno starts protesting.

“No,” He shakes his head. “It’s not something you should worry about now. Actually, you’re already on vacation, aren’t you? Forget I said anything. What were you talking about before I interrupted?”

He chances a glance at both Tighnari and Kaveh, only to find them both gaping like fish left out to dry at the exchange between him and Cyno. He can imagine that the sudden display had taken them aback some, but was it really so strange to see him being friendly with another person?

Tighnari is the first to recover by snapping his mouth closed and clearing his throat. “Alhaitham’s right; besides, the Traveler is always readily available should something go wrong. And, of course, we now have Lesser Lord Kusanali as well.”

Tighnari’s confident and measured tone seems to ease Cyno’s worries for the moment and the General settles back into his seat. He looks somewhat like a scolded child but Alhaitham finds the glare unwarranted considering they only want what’s best for their friend. Then again, Alhaitham supposes that should someone fret over him like that, he wouldn’t be too happy about it either.

“Actually, I wanted to leave you my notes.” Cyno offers out the notebook he’s been holding and Alhaitham receives it with both hands gently. “In case any of my Matra don’t know what to do in a certain situation, everything important should be in there.”

Alhaitham nods and vows to read through them later in private, away from prying eyes – Kaveh’s to be specific.

Tighnari’s eyes dart between the two of them again and Alhaitham is worried that his… unease that Cyno is leaving has finally manifested in the physical form of a scrawl across his forehead. For what other reason could the Forest Watcher be looking at them so intently.

“Thank you, I will make sure to familiarize myself with the procedures just in case.” He promises and Cyno appears appeased at his words, nodding to himself.

“Do you have everything else? Have you prepared for the trip? Where’s Collei?” Alhaitham speaks again, eager to get the words out, to keep the conversation going. After all, who knows when he’ll see the General next?

Three weeks, his mind supplies and he ignores it.

Cyno looks down at his own now-empty hands, lost in thought for a moment.

“Yes, I think we have everything now. Collei has the list, and as for where she is. Dehya offered to take her around Sumeru. They’re catching one of Nilou’s shows currently.”

“The only reason Dehya offered is because you insisted on dropping the notebook off and couldn’t-” Tighnari gets cut off by something, voice going up in a yelp as he clutches at his knee.

The silence that follows is somehow tense. Kaveh seems to be holding in a laugh as Cyno turns back to talk to Alhaitham.

“I’ve seen Nilou dance plenty of times before. So I took the opportunity to drop the notes off, yes.” Cyno’s admission seems sheepish somehow and Alhaitham feels like he’s missing a part of the conversation, a puzzle piece that’s mysteriously disappeared, leaving the whole thing incomplete.

“Not a fan?” He changes topics, once again interested in if Cyno enjoys the performance arts as much as he does sorting images that on the backs of his TCG cards by color.

“I like her dances just fine, but it always strikes me as a waste of time.” Cyno admits and Kaveh scoffs.

“Of course it does,” The architect waves him off. “The two of you have no appreciation for the finer arts. Functionality over all else. Now that’s the true waste.”

“Frivolous wastrel,” Alhaitham rolls his eyes and Cyno hides his smile behind a glass of water.

“I always did suspect the house wasn’t decorated by you, Alhaitham.” Tighnari nods to himself. “It’s a bit too – ostentatious, for your tastes.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” He allows himself to chuckle, relaxing into his chair and feeling the stress of the day wash off of his shoulders easily in the comfortable atmosphere.

Kaveh, naturally, takes offense to this and engages Tighnari in an inane conversation about the styles permeating Teyvat and which one would suit their home more. Tighnari, preferring of course, the classics of Sumeru’s traditional while Kaveh continues to advocate for Liyue modern.

“Do you care either way?” Cyno leans over to him, whispering to avoid being overheard by the two.

He shakes his head, “As long as he stays out of my space, I don’t care what he does with the place.”

“I thought so,” Cyno smiles, “You’re too kind. I certainly wouldn’t want anybody rearranging my furniture while I was out and about.”

He shrugs, leaning a bit closer to the General in turn. “I just put it back when he’s too busy to notice.”

Cyno’s grin is wide and infectious, genuine again, in a way that happens less than he would have thought while they’re at the academia. He’s never realized just how serious Cyno was. He always knew, of course, that the General Mahamatra takes his job seriously but in contrast to this Vacation-Cyno version of him, he comes across as overly serious. To perhaps a comical degree. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget Cyno’s smiles, doesn’t think he’ll be able to put the easy grins out of his mind when they go back to work.

He’s not even sure he wants to.

He’s going to have to learn how to compartmentalize better.

As they’re leaving, called away by Dehya at the door dropping Collei off, Cyno turns around to stare at Alhaitham. There’s something on the tip of the General’s tongue, he can tell, but Cyno just furrows his brows, gives him a short nod and turns to leave. Leaving Alhaitham, in turn, to anguish over what was left unsaid.

“When did you become so close with Cyno?” Kaveh, arms crossed over his chest, asks as Alhaitham closes the door.

He shrugs, moving past the other. “I would hardly call us close.”

“You called him Cyno, you’re worried about him!” Kaveh exclaims as if outraged. “Worse yet: you’re interested in what he has to say! Akademiya’s sake, you even asked him questions! Multiple questions at that!”

“I’m perfectly capable of asking questions.” He defends, feeling slow heat crawling up the back of his neck at the reminder of his own impulsive behavior.

“Yes, but they’re never personal! You even touched him willingly. I can’t believe the author of that one book of jokes nobody’s ever read is usurping me as your best friend.” Kaveh taps his foot against the ground impatiently and Alhaitham gives him a thin smile.

“Who says you were ever my best friend?”

“The nerve!”

The entry of the notebook says Dear Alhaitham which means that the notebook wasn’t something that existed previously and has been made specifically for him. The Dear Alhaitham is crossed out and replaced with To the Acting Grand Sage.

However, even the thought that Cyno had started his notes addressing it to Dear Alhaitham is something that he can’t really come to terms with at the moment.

The first few pages detail the Mahamatra’s daily workload and how he should act should one of his subordinates miss a step in his routine. This routine is susceptible to change so there are a few pages of procedures if one of his matra needs to leave the city for an assignment – what they should take, who they should contact, who to get as backup – that sort of stuff.

It’s when Alhaitham reaches the part where Cyno dedicates twenty pages of neat writing to his delegates and describing their capabilities that things get interesting.

Shohre, Cyno writes, reliable, if somewhat absent-minded. She possesses a vast knowledge of the books in the House of Daena and will be in charge of any administrative work that comes my way. Her absent head often leads her to daydreaming but she’s got a good heart and loves her work. Her strength lies in her good memory and her cleverness with words. There is little she can’t write and has even published papers before. She will accept criticism with an open mind and will always try to improve.

It’s oddly insightful but that’s not what catches Alhaitham’s interest.

In a smaller scrawl underneath Shohre’s review Cyno had written a personal anecdote.

When she was starting out, she was very nervous and anxious, but as she settled into her studies and made regular visits to the Avidya forest, she has become more relaxed. It must be the nature that calms her anxieties, though Tighnari claims otherwise.

Alhaitham snorts despite himself. He’s fairly certain that he knows what has relaxed the matra, and he can say with some certainty that it’s not just the nature. Well, not in a sense that Cyno claims.

A little lower it says: Shohre often takes it upon herself to try and bestow advice to the younger researches, and occasionally, me as well. It’s always related to either my relations with other people or the failure of my jokes. She means well so I don’t take it to heart. She’s willing to play TCG with me sometimes, too, so if you find yourself bored, you can seek her out. She bakes well.

Judging by the previous paragraph of her review, this last part seems oddly personal. Like Cyno had felt the need to inform Alhaitham of Shohre’s other admirable traits as well.

The next matra on Cyno’s list is Idhari.

Obsessive yet competent, he will be relegated from his matra duties to patrol duty with Javi. His detail-oriented nature makes him a good candidate for spotting anything out of order, his eyesight is impeccable. He and Javi are known collaborators, both academically and outside of the Akademiya, they work well together. He’s a bit short tempered but he doesn’t have it in him to be rude to authority, he shouldn’t give you any attitude.

Judging by his notes, Alhaitham can conclude that Cyno knows his matra well. Or, as well as someone who’s always busy enough to have seven matra do his daily duties while he’s away.

Underneath the overview, Cyno continues much like he had with Shohre’s report.

I try not to separate Javi and Idhari, they work best together. But they’re like a pair of pups that get agitated when separated for too long. It’s strange to think about, wanting one person in your life so much that it unsettles you to be away from them for long.

This note feels a bit more personal than the last. Alhaitham reads it over again and presses his fingers over the ink as if he could absorb their meaning. He knows what they mean, of course, but much like the other morning, something in his brain isn’t clicking.

He can perfectly imagine missing someone to the point of being unsettled. He’s experiencing it already, and with Cyno now actually gone, he’s bound to experience it for the next two and a half weeks as well. He frowns at the notebook, tapping his nails against the paper.

But, Cyno continues, it is to be expected. They have recently been wed. Still new to their relationship, it is only natural that they want to spend as much time together as they do – or so I’ve been told.

Alhaitham’s eyes widen, alarm bells sounding inside his head. Javi and Idhari have recently become bonded for life. And he had just compared his own unease over Cyno leaving with that of the separation anxiety a newlywed couple is feeling.

He clears his throat forcefully, grateful that he’s decided to read the notebook in the privacy of his own room where nobody can see his flustered state. For the next matra’s report he skips the actual overview of the man’s skill and goes straight to the note after.

Nasir reminds me of you. I must admit that I was biased in choosing him as someone who can accompany you to any meeting outside of the Akademiya. His dedication to his work is impressive, certainly, but he likes his free time too much to stay put for too long. Like you. I trust him to keep you company. He also likes dusty books and music – the lyre, I remember. He plays, though, so maybe if you’re nice to him, he’ll play you something on your slow days. In this regard, he is better than I because I am not musically gifted. I still beat him at Genius Invocation TCG regularly, though. His need to always be right and his caring nature keeps him coming back for rematches. He likes to make sure I’m not staring at my cards on my own too frequently. Caring.

The ‘like you’ is left unsaid but Alhaitham can read between the lines quite proficiently. It’s his favorite type of reading, right after academic. This leaves him mildly stunned. The way Cyno had thought about him when choosing the matras to replace him, the way he claims to know Alhaitham – the way that he’s accurate in his observations.  

For Nayla, the matra who is responsible for fetching Alhaitham things he needs around his office, he writes about the color of her eyes – out of all the things.

Bright, indicative of her cleverness. Much like yours, I’d say. Though, not the same color. Yours are quite unique, I always thought. Her analytical gaze tends to intimidate more than her stature, so if Wafiq fails to keep the peace in meetings, take her instead. She sometimes takes the time to update me on the gossip happening between the matra. I don’t get to see all and hear all, but I have eyes and ears everywhere who do so for me.

Cyno writing about his eyes, the color of them, is not something Alhaitham expected to read. He brings a hand to his eyelid, turning his head to the side until he can see his reflection in the small mirror he has in his room. He supposes they are unique. The duality of them, the shades within them. But the notion that Cyno had noticed this, has him curious. Though, he supposes nothing really gets past Cyno.

Nayla and I often see eye-to-eye. Haha.

Alhaitham sighs at the joke but continues reading.

Hers are brown, a formidable color, but not nearly as striking when compared to yours.

Swallowing heavily, Alhaitham suddenly wishes he had a pitcher of water by his side.

Wafiq is the matra chosen to accompany him to meetings. The stocky man with features too soft to be truly menacing.

While he’s large… he is also not as academically gifted. Standing next to him always makes me feel small. It’s odd. I hold more power than three of him combined but there is something in being physically slighter than someone that is an undeniable blow to one’s ego. I compensate by regularly besting him during sparring and training sessions. Sometimes I remember our confrontation outside of Aaru Village. It had no real conclusion so I’d like it if we could repeat it once, see who would have won. You are a formidable opponent – for a Scribe, that is.

Their confrontation in front of Aaru Village where Cyno had come barreling from the heavens like a bolt of lightning sent by the Archons themselves to punish all those that would dare oppose their will. His spear was wielded with such force that it sent his entire arm shaking as he blocked blow after blow. Cyno is fast, agile, bendy. His lithe form allows for maneuverability that someone of Wafiq’s (or Alhaitham’s) build doesn’t have. But being physically small does have its downsides. Being pinned for one –

He clears his throat more forcefully.    

Behaim has been delegated the task of patrolling the road to Aaru village and taking notes on the happenings in Caravan Ribat.

His writing is like yours. I have trouble reading it because of how sloppy some of the letting is but it’s always detailed to a painful extent. Much like you, he doesn’t like writing the reports but when he does, he makes sure that we all suffer reading through them. Petulant. The slope of his words is different, more slanted, but the overall impact is similar. He’s been known to sniff out forgeries whenever I’m not sure about the originality of the researchers’ work. He’s got a good nose for trouble, so make sure he’s not going off on his own all the time. I’d hate to see anything happen to him because he’d been selected as part of my replacement team. I couldn’t live with the thought Make sure he checks in with Candace every day, between the two of you he should be safe.

This one Alhaitham actually knows. Behaim is one of the youngest matra, one of the newest arrivals after the whole deal with Azar and the rest of the Sages. He’s young but increasingly capable, as shown by the amount of trust Cyno puts into him. He must also be close to the General Mahamatra for Cyno to be so protective of him. It’s – endearing. Cyno, responsible for so much and so many and yet he will care for them to his best abilities always.

His chest feels oddly tight at the thought of Cyno speaking with young Behaim in a hushed tone, making steady eye contact with the taller matra. He rubs a hand across his bare skin, idly wondering how Cyno smiles at his matra, if he does.   

Last of the chosen is Tanina, another new arrival who’d gotten approved by Alhaitham himself. She is sharp-witted, this he knows, but what Cyno outlines in his note after has nothing to do with that.

She has expressed interest in working closely with you, and even though the six matra previously listed would have been enough, I decided to give her a chance to observe your work up-close. Her motives seem academically-oriented so I see no reason to deny her request. I trust she will keep you company should you ever need an excuse to shrug off paperwork. I know you’re not in the habit of making friends, but I think you might benefit from some human interaction.

Huh. The note is rather short and disappointing in a way. There is nothing there to indicate Cyno’s personal feelings on the matra chosen. What’s also strange is that Tanina had expressed the wish to work closely with him. He wonders how academic her motivation really is.

There are several pages dedicated to the other matra’s schedules should he need more of them at any point. And then at the end of the notes, there’s one more in the same smaller, unofficial script.

I know this wasn’t necessary and that I perhaps wasted time, should you choose to discard everything written here, but I thought this would benefit us both. It eased my mind about leaving and I’m hoping it makes things easier for you in my absence. I may have gotten carried away writing about my matra but it felt necessary. On my journey I will – there’s something scrawled here then crossed out with such fervor that Alhaitham can’t hope to read it, several lines of text even.

- try and relax and not think about my work too much. If I get the chance, I will write. So I leave you with these parting words: take care of my matra and let them take care of you in turn.

Something blacked out in ink, Cyno.

Alhaitham closes the notebook and presses it against his chest. The heart within it beats rapidly and he feels like he’s missing something again.

Cyno had left him a guide to his Mahamatra duties. But not only that, he had left him a guide – a window, really, into the way Cyno thinks and sees the world, sees his matra, sees Alhaitham. And Cyno certainly sees him, because these little insights can’t have been gathered over the course of his last three conversations. This is insight that Cyno has kept to himself for possibly months, probably ever since they freed Lesser Lord Kusanali.

He doesn’t know what to think.

One thing he does know, though, is that the feeling of missing a limb that accompanies Cyno’s departure will be something Alhaitham will be agonizing over until the other’s return.

Chapter Text

The first matra he meets the next morning is Wafiq, he knows now.

The researchers are already lined up in the House of Daena library, waiting for him to start up the elevator for the day. He eyes Wafiq, his tall stature, impressive build – that akin to the Emerites out in the desert. And then takes in the guileless look in his eyes.

“Wafiq, would you please fetch Nayla to attend the meetings as well?” He asks, remembering Cyno’s neat writing and his advice of searching out the other matra. After all, the researchers do seem particularly agitated this afternoon. Which, in turn, might be because Alhaitham had refused to show up until the sun has already been high up in the sky for a while.

“Right away, Grand Sage!” Wafiq nods hurriedly and scurries off in search of the other matra.

With a heavy sigh, Alhaitham makes eye contact with Shohre. She looks as eager to get the meetings over with as he does. He tilts his head towards the elevator and she breaks through the crowd of agitated members of the Akademiya and comes to stand next to him.

“Grand Sage,” She greets politely and he hums.

“Anything for me to sign or read?” He motions to the stack of papers in her hands and she laughs lightly.

“Of course. Is there ever not?”

“One can only hope.” With a sigh he turns to the researchers. “10 minutes, then you can start piling in. Two by two or I will have the matra escort you out.”

He steps onto the platform and is quickly followed by Shohre who’s leafing through the papers. “I can read these over for you and set aside any that seem overly suspicious for later?” She offers and Alhaitham breathes a little easier.

“I would appreciate that, thank you.” He should look into getting another table for the office, and a couple of chairs to boot if he’s going to be hosting a number of matra in his office.

The next people off the elevator are Wafiq, Nayla and Panah. He eyes the Mahamatra that wasn’t invited then waves him off. “Panah, go get someone to find and move another desk and a couple of chairs for the office.”

Panah falters and stays on the platform, a grimace on his face. “Right away, sir.”

“You don’t seem like his biggest fan, sir.” Nayla notes, taking a seat at the edge of his desk, comfortable.

“He is… arrogant.” Alhaitham huffs, plopping himself down into his uncomfortable chair. “He thinks his position as a Mahamatra closest to the General’s own position will keep him safe, that he has as much influence as Cy- the General. I just think he should be reminded of the truth once in a while.”

Shohre and Nayla share a short chuckle while Wafiq settles himself in a menacing stance at his side. So far so good, he thinks idly. None of the matra are showing any discontent and as they wait for the new furniture and the researchers, talking among themselves in a moderate tone which Alhaitham appreciates.

Eventually, the first of the researchers start pouring in, one after another with an inane problem Alhaitham has to solve for them. A new desk gets brought in and Shohre gets to her paper reading while Nyla opts to remain on Alhaitham’s table with her arms crossed, giving everyone a critical stare.

By the end of the day, he can safely say that, Cyno was right in choosing these matra as his replacement.

Shohre manages to sniff out a couple of plagiarisms in the papers that were submitted and Alhaitham signs off on the rest of them. Nyla keeps the peace with her hard stare, brown eyes deep and menacing even the men much older and larger than her, and Wafiq only has to usher one scorned researcher out of Alhaitham’s office. It’s a good team to have around, but what he realizes is that usually, when available, it’s Cyno doing all of this.

He’s uneasy at the thought that the General has to do so much. There will be some changes in regards to Cyno’s workload once he’s back, Alhaitham promises to himself. There is no need for one man to be burdened with so much when a team of well-trained and trusted matra can do it instead.

He’s closing up the elevator for the night when he notices Nayla still standing nearby.

“Not eager to head out?” He questions, pocketing the keys.

“I wanted to speak with you, Grand Sage.” She shrugs, walking next to him as he starts for the exit, the library silent and dark around them. “Regarding the General’s departure.”

“Ah, of course. Speak freely then.” He allows, curious as to what the matra has to say.

“As happy as I am that he’s finally taken a vacation, I am also… uneasy that people will take advantage of his absence to cause trouble.” Nayla admits, posture relaxing from her self-confident stance into something unsure.

He nods, “That’s an inevitability. Are you worried you’re not up to the task?”

“Yes.” She admits, “Most of us are only used to either harmless patrols or administrative work. We’ve never witnessed a real crisis, apart from the whole thing with Lesser Lord Kusanali.”

He thinks about it for a moment, wondering briefly what could go wrong enough for the Akademiya to descend into chaos, and concludes that there’s nothing that could go so wrong.

“You’ve all been trained by the General, you’ve all passed the necessary tests. Better yet, you’ve passed the General Mahamatra’s personal selection to replace his own presence in the Akademiya.” He says calmly, doing his best to absolve her of her doubts which are entirely unnecessary.

“I suppose so.” She shrugs, kicking at a stone on the steps outside the House of Daena.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. If we continue as we have today, everything should be in order for the duration of the General’s vacation.” He nods again, sternly this time and she stands to attention.

“Of course, sir.” She offers in turn, then smiles. “We were all a bit scared of working with you, you know. But, you’re not so bad. I look forward to continuing our work, good night, Grand Sage.” She waves and jumps the last two steps, ambling away with a skip in her step.

“Good night,” He mumbles, mildly stunned by the kind words. And the information that the matra had been scared of him.

Well, nothing to it but to continue working with them and trusting them to keep an eye on things.

Three days later, he meets Nasir. The man is in the cafeteria, sitting with Javi and Idhari, the two having breakfast before their patrol duty while Nasir drinks coffee.

“Nasir,” He calls as he approaches, the man’s greying hair bounces as his head snaps up, eyes wide.

“Grand Sage!” The older man sputters, setting his cup down abruptly, making the coffee splash a bit. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, I thought that was obvious.” He turns to the other two, briefly remembering Cyno’s notes about their recent marriage, and nods. “Idhari, Javi.”

“Grand Sage,” Idhari nods back and Javi copies him mutely.

“What can I do for you, sir?” Nasir asks again and Alhaitham sighs.

“I have a meeting out in the desert, near Aaru village. We’ll be joining Behaim for his daily trip and then meeting with the village elder.” He motions with his hand and Behaim waves at them from the door.

“When are we leaving, sir?”

“Right now,” He starts walking away, privately a little amused as Nasir stumbles onto his feet in order to follow after him.

The past three days have been filled with him and the three from the first day cooped up in his office, listening to complaint after complaint until he was seriously tempted to turn the soundproofing on to the max by noon. Inane proposal after inane proposal, one plagiarized work after another, both Alhaitham and the matra on duty have had enough. He’s extremely grateful to be able to stretch his legs for the day, and that Nayla, Shohre and Wafiq get the day off to do their own things away from the House of Daena for once. It’s only been three days and yet somehow it seems that his workload has increased tremendously. Maybe there was some truth to what Nayla had said that first night, that more people are willing to complain and protest now that the General Mahamatra isn’t there to menace them into silence.

And it would be fine, there is a freedom of speech that is allowed to all in Sumeru. It would be fine were most complaints not stupid enough to rot his brain, or were they not petty squabbles between researchers that could be solved over coffee in half an hour’s time. The utter waste of his days’ time is really something he couldn’t have predicted when the position had been hoisted upon his shoulders.

“Behaim,” He greets the youngest member of the matra squad that had been assigned to him.

“Good morning, sir!” Behaim chirps back, obviously excited.

“Have you been enjoying your patrols?” He asks as they leave the building, curious as to what the younger had been getting up to.

“Um, have you not been reading my reports, sir?” Behaim wrings his hands together.

Ah. The reports. The reports that he let Nayla and Shohre read instead of him, because he couldn’t be bothered. Well. He never said he actually liked doing his job. In fact, he would much rather not be doing his current job. Whatever was wrong with being a Scribe?

“Of course, but I want to hear it from you. Anything not on paper or official that you want to share?” He clears his throat, ignoring the snort from Nasir who most certainly knows that he hasn’t read a word of those reports.

“Well, the weather has been a bit harsh lately, with the heat wave and all. And the sandstorms… But Miss Candace always makes sure I wait it out before I start heading back.” Behaim hums. “To be honest, I don’t know why the General Mahamatra insists on traversing the road to Aaru village every day. Or how he has the time to do so… but I won’t let him down.”

He admires the man’s dedication. It seems that all the chosen matra, and probably many others, hold the General in high regard. They respect him, that’s for certain, but they seem to be vying for his attention on top of that as well. It is not as though he can blame them. Having, and keeping, the General Mahamatra’s attention is something rare. Cyno is very perceptive, yes, but if you’re not perceived as a threat, you are quickly disregarded. This brings to attention just how special these matra are, if they’ve managed to stand out in Cyno’s mind enough to get chosen.

Alhaitham himself knows what it’s like to have, hold, and in the end, lose Cyno’s attention. While it was on his person first, he could feel judgment, perceived as an enemy to the law and to justice, he knows how heavy those eyes can be, how accusing. Subsequently, he’s felt that attention in other ways as well. A tentative co-conspirator, a coworker, a partner, and most recently – a friend. And he’s also lost that attention as soon as it had become more tangential.

He curses himself for his internal dramatics. Cyno is coming back in two or so weeks, he’ll live. They’ll all live.

“I’m sure he has his reasons – reasons we are not to question. Perhaps it is better to be safe, than to have something happen without being able to intervene.” He reasons, not really knowing Cyno’s reasoning for most things he does in a day. He would place his money on the patrol being an excuse to clear his head after the meetings and the bustle of the city.

Behaim nods eagerly, accepting Alhaitham’s word as law. Well, maybe being chief authority isn’t all bad. Then again, so much for raising a city of free thinkers…

“And do you need me to accompany you all the way to Aaru village?” Nasir drawls, already a little out of breath and they’ve barely left the city.

“That is your job, is it not? I’m sure you wouldn’t want to disappoint the General Mahamatra either.” Alhaitham scolds gently and Nasir rolls his eyes.

“Aish, that kid. He works too much. I don’t even think you need him around for half the time he’s there. You’re a grownup, Archons, you’re the Acting Grand Sage.” Nasir grumbles.

“I disagree.” It’s out of his mouth before he can think about it. Nasir stops briefly, faltering in his steps at his abrupt tone. A raised eyebrow prompts him to continue speaking.

“Well, before becoming the Acting Grand Sage, I was but a feeble scholar. The General’s presence serves as additional security during meetings and my trips outside of the city, and his keen eye catches inconsistencies in papers as well as my own. He is much needed. His presence is much needed.” He swallows as he corrects himself, throat feeling a little tight as the heat of the day converges in his face.

Nasir’s expression remains unimpressed. “Aha, a feeble scholar.”

“Yes.” He persists, quickening his step to dodge out of Nasir’s direct sightline.

This was going to be a long trip.

Candace greets them by the Statue of the Seven, one hand on her hip and another holding her spear upright.

“I was expecting you here an hour ago.” Her colorful eyes take in his travelling companions and Behaim giggles, pointing to Nasir and Alhaitham.

“These two sure like to take their time walking. Sorry about that, ma’am.” The matra excuses himself and heads ahead to the village in order to restock for their trip back. How he does this every day, Alhaitham does not know.

“I don’t like travelling to the desert if I do not have to.” He admits in lieu of greeting.

“I know.” She chuckles. “I appreciate you making the trip nevertheless. Come, before you perish out here in the sands.”

“I appreciate your concern,” He drawls at her jab – which is justified, since he probably both looks and feels like he’s dying in the heat.

The meeting with the elder goes as well as the last one, nothing new to report about the Sages, no progress with their rehabilitation. It was not worth the trip, he thinks privately, but a job is a job, and this one just happens to be his.

“So,” Candace sidles up to him as he’s waiting for his travelling companions to appear. “The General Mahamatra, gone for three weeks.”

He nods, shifting restlessly on his feet. “I hope Behaim has been a decent enough replacement.”

“He’s sweet, though often bored on his travels from what he’s reported.” Candace nods then turns to look at him fully. “About Cyno’s vacation, though-”

“What is there to talk about? He’s due a few weeks off, he took them, for a noble cause, too.” He defends, not understanding why it’s suddenly so important to her to discuss.

“And how has that been for you?” She tilts her head, the headpiece she wears glinting in the sun.

“What?” He’s – dumbfounded. Why would she know about – why would she think…?

“From what he’s told me, you two have been working closely together ever since you took up the position of Grand Sage. It must be a shock to the system to suddenly be left without your closest partner.” She spreads her hands in front of her as if she’s commenting on the weather.

“He’s talked about our work with you?” He asks incredulously, pointedly avoiding the real topic of conversation.

“Of course, we’re friends, he and I, you know!” She chuckles, stepping back and out of direct sunlight, prompting him to do the same. “We talk about all kinds of things.”

The idea that Cyno has talked about him with someone outside of the professional capacity is… well. It warms him from the inside, to know that the General Mahamatra thinks of him when he’s not there. It makes his stomach bunch into knots because now he’s wondering if Cyno is thinking about him on his vacation, while he’s surrounded by strangers in Mondstadt. And if he is, then what would that mean. Because Alhaitham is certainly thinking about the General, almost to an alarming degree considering that before the whole Freeing Lesser Lord Kusanali fiasco, he’d barely spoken to the Mahamatra. How quickly had the General inserted himself into Alhaitham’s life, his mind, his chest cavity, how surreptitiously.

“Well, I’m glad to know I’m gossiped about, I suppose. It means I’m quite popular.” He straightens up, feels how sweaty his palms are where they’re resting against the material covering his arms.

“You’re quite the topic, indeed.” Candace smirks. “A frequent one, too. Nothing but praise.” She hums. “Well, a couple of complaints here and there, but other than that…” She trails off.

“Oh? Complaints about what, exactly?” He can’t help but ask, curiosity once again getting the better of him. He really needs to get a handle on this whole thing.

“Some minor things.” She shrugs, her adornments clinking at the movement. “That you’re late to work on most days, that you don’t take enough breaks, talk to enough people… have enough friends.”

He startles, snapping his eyes to hers. These are all the things that Cyno has assigned his matra to try and con Alhaitham into doing – eating more, doing his work more efficiently… being people he can talk to. He had assumed that Cyno had mentioned these things in his notes as something that is secondary to the Matra, but apparently Cyno has been… worried about him. And yet he’d never brought any of this up with Alhaitham himself.

“He’s never mentioned these things to me.” He grumbles, feeling out of sorts – feeling too much.

“You’re not the easiest man to talk to,” She points out then straightens up out of her slouch. “Think about it a little, yes?”

Think about what, he wants to ask but the sound of footsteps interrupts him.

Think about what? That he’s a bastard for only wanting to get to know Cyno upon learning he won’t be by Alhaitham’s side for three weeks? That he’s a thrice-damned fool for not seeing what was right in front of him until it was gone? That he’s an idiot for not giving himself pause to appreciate what he’s had until it wasn’t there anymore? Because Cyno has obviously cared about Alhaitham far longer than Alhaitham has been conscious of his own feelings when it comes to the General Mahamatra – perhaps not in the same way (most likely not in the same way) – but the General’s protective disposition has certainly made him stick around more than was strictly needed.

Nasir was right, Alhaitham didn’t need the General Mahamatra by his side, no, he wanted him there. He wanted Cyno there out of his own pure selfish reasons, he wants to keep him there in the future, wants to make it so he can take care of Cyno in return, so that the other doesn’t have to overwork himself for Alhaitham’s sake.

It appears that Cyno has, in his misguided attempt to make sure Alhaitham is taken care of while he’s away, attempted to set Alhaitham up.

He realizes this abruptly when, on a day with no meeting scheduled, no paperwork or trips to do, he meets Tanina.

She is – she is objectively beautiful as she walks towards him from the elevator. Her hair is wavy and dark, curling gently around her face and dipping down to the middle of her back. She’s dressed in an elegant viridian dress that clings to her waist. There is a quiet strength of a matra to her, but she carries herself like nobility rather than a warrior.

It is abundantly clear to him just what Cyno meant when he wrote that she had expressed interest in working close with him. Cyno, the poor, misguided soul, had tried to find him a partner of a different kind.

He should be mad that the other would assume Alhaitham needed help, but he can’t fault him for thinking Alhaitham lonely. His job, his books and his music don’t make for lively companions, and seeing as he’d been annoyingly negligent of his own feelings when it came to the General and of Cyno’s own worry, it only makes sense.

Curse the General Mahamatra and his protective instincts.

“May I help you? I wasn’t aware I had a meeting scheduled today.” He keeps his tone cold, face blank in order to stow away all of that emotional turmoil that’s wracking his heart and brain at the moment.

“Oh, we didn’t have anything scheduled, no. But I thought I’d drop by regardless.” She purrs, coming to stand in front of his vast desk.

Alhaitham is grateful for the distance between them, suddenly terrified that she will try and cross it, try and insert herself in his personal space.

“And you are?” He’s being – rude. He knows. He feels uncomfortable being so dishonest, but maybe he’s got this all wrong. Maybe that wasn’t what Cyno had in mind when he’d allowed her on his team of trusted matra.

She pouts, put out for a moment. “Tanina, Grand Sage. I’m sure you’ve met everyone else on the General’s team.”

“Ah, yes. I have. Which brings to question as to why you haven’t reported in yet. You are in charge of which aspect of Cyno’s work?” The dishonesty is making his skin crawl, his usually blunt nature nowhere to be found.

She tilts her head at the slip of the General’s name. “I’m more of a gap-filler. I thought that if you had anything to do for the day, maybe you’d want someone to do it in your stead.” She leans against the desk, “Or, maybe you just needed some company. This office is awfully big for one person.”

The flirting is blatant, she’s not trying to hide it. The coy tone of her voice, the way she’s trying to position herself to be as alluring as possible, it would all work – were he a different man.

His relationship with attraction is – complicated.

The physical nature of it has never mattered to him much, and aside from a few firsts he pragmatically wanted to get out of the way, he’s had no interest in seeking it further. After all, most people are a drag to be around – or they find him too unsettling to be around, more like. Which suits him fine. But he has… friends now. Friends like Dehya and Candace, like the traveler and their flying companion, like even Kaveh and Tighnari, and – and Cyno. So while he’s no longer generally opposed to the occasional company of these select few – the new matra squad included – he is still not someone who would seek out pleasure of the carnal kind.

Were he to be that kind of man, having a woman as beautiful as Tanina would certainly flatter and intrigue him. But alas, all he can think about is which lie to tell her in order to let her down gently.

“The office is usually quite full, between me and the General Mahamatra, so no need to worry yourself over it.” He clears his throat, stapling his fingers together in front of himself. “And as for your company… while I appreciate the interest, I must say that I cannot return it.”

She blinks at him a few times before smiling brightly. “Ooh… I see.” She croons and Alhaitham feels like something’s missing again – a feeling he’s getting tired of.

“Never mind that, then. I wanted to also pick your brain on this research proposal that I have and am trying to get off the ground…” And then she’s off.

Alhaitham listens, quite mystified as she rambles about her project, the funding it will need and who she wants on it. Her posture changes, relaxes, becomes more friendly and less seductive. It seems as though she really is interested in his academic opinion as well.

Her proposal is interesting and in the end he jots down enough notes for further request forms and the funding she’ll need.

“Grand Sage, sir?” She asks when she’s on her way out.

“Yes, Tanina?” He looks up from where he’s drafting one of the proposals now.

“Thank you, and, um, no hard feelings? I should have known better than to assume where your interests lie.” She looks bashful now, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

He chuckles dryly. “Oh? And where do my interests lie, exactly?”

She scrunches up her nose and looks at him like he’s stupid. “Well, with the General Mahamatra, of course. It’s rather quite obvious now that I think about it. And that’s good, for the both of you. I hope he’ll be more relaxed after his vacation. Anyway. I’ll see you in two days for the meeting! Goodbye, sir!” She steps onto the elevator and it descends, leaving Alhaitham alone with his thoughts and her parting words.

Ah.

So it is as he’s feared.

He’s out at the railing in front of his home the following night, mind in a sleep deprived haze as the sweet release of a dreamless slumber eludes him. It is times like this that he wishes he smoked just so that he had something to do with his hands.

“Ah, so it is you, Sir.” A voice to his right startles him and he snaps to attention as he swivels on his heel.

“Idhari.” He breathes out, relieved that it’s not an ambush or something of that nature. A glance to the side reveals another, silent figure. “And Javi.”

The two nod in greeting, taking up a loose stance next on each side of him almost as if they’re keeping watch.

“Any particular reason you two are here at this time of night?” It being somewhere past midnight also meant that he shouldn’t be out in the streets either. At least the two of them had a job to do

“We had spotted you from the top of the tree,” Idhari shrugs, “Well, we didn’t know it was you but there’s very few in the city that have a build like that.” Idhari drawls cheekily. “That and the Dendro vision.”

Alhaitham snorts at the comment. “Ending the patrol for the night?”

Idhari yawns, nodding again. “We did the rounds, the next shift of the guard is about to change so we were heading home.”

Javi taps his hands against the railing, getting their attention. Alhaitham watches his movements as he signs.

What are you doing up at this time?

“Ah, I couldn’t sleep. There is a lot on my mind. What with all of the research proposals, the upcoming budget meetings and the like.” He sighs, refusing to acknowledge what was really on his mind.

It’s the General, huh? Javi grins brightly, showing his teeth, and Idhari chokes back a laugh.

At the heels of his recent revelation, this teasing is not entirely welcome. Especially from the two of them who look like they couldn’t have a care in the world.

“The General’s return, yes, among other things.” He concedes, not seeing why he should lie. It’s not like Cyno’s trip is only on his mind. Entire squadrons of matra are buzzing with nerves as the date approaches, almost like they expect him to be different somehow – for Mondstadt to have changed him.

“Yeah, but, you know.” Idhari drawls, leaning against the railing elbows against metal. “You’re not thinking about the General, you’re thinking about Cyno.”

“Excuse me?” He gapes, stunned. The audacity! He thinks, baffled that Idhari and Javi have allowed themselves this much leeway with how they address him.

“Well, it’s just. We all know you’ve been a little lost without him here, Sir. I know I’m taking liberties with how I’m speaking but.” Idhari waves a hand through the air. “Someone has to say it outright.”

You look sad. Javi adds with a solemn grimace.

Alhaitham swallows heavily. Out of all the matra, these two have been the only ones to point this out to his face. And he… he knows that he’s been a little forlorn without Cyno at his back. He knows he’s been a little grim, dejected. But he didn’t think it was much of a difference.

“And how was I… while the General was working?” He questions, wanting a different perspective as to how he’s different.

“When the General is present it’s like…” Idhari sighs, tapping his fingers against his biceps.

There is a quiet strength to you. Javi finishes for him. You are more settled.

Idhari snaps his fingers, “Yes! You’re all authority and business, no nonsense! But with him gone, it’s like you hardly care about your work. Like you don’t like being there at all.”

It’s not – it’s not a wrong estimation. Alhaitham hates his new job. But again, he thought he had kept his dislike under control and hidden. But it seems as though without Cyno there to act as a buffer, he’s become bitter and easily incensed.

“I won’t deny that I preferred my work as a Scribe to this, but – it’s not all bad. There are advantages to being Grand Sage as well.” He looks up at the moon, thinking about how the paleness of it is akin to that of Cyno’s hair – like a fool from those romance novels Kaveh likes to read.

“Like having the General Mahamatra at your beck and call?” Idhari croons and Alhaitham tsks loudly, turning to leave.

“Goodnight, gentlemen.” He doesn’t dignify them with an answer when Idhari calls out after him, trying to goad him into revealing more damning information about himself.

 “So… Cyno is coming back tomorrow.”

The phrase, of some variation of it that he’s hear over the last three days from various mouths, leave Kaveh’s throat as well.

He’s getting sick of hearing it, the knots in his stomach roiling at the annoying sentence being repeated over and over again. And it’s not because he’s nervous for the other’s return – well, probably not because of that. It would be annoying if it were. But it’s the assumption that he’s somehow excited for Cyno’s return. And he – well, he is and he isn’t. It’s just that every single matra working directly with him had already mentioned the General’s return in his presence, if not directly to him.  

Archons, maybe he is nervous if even the phrase makes him flutter all over with anxiety.

“Yes.” He flips the page of the book he was pretending to read, keeping up his act for the sake of his own peace.

“Are you going to greet him?” Kaveh leans his elbows against the table, his face between his palms.

“Why ever would I do that?” He scoffs, hating how he’s itching to go camp out at the gates and be the first one to see the General upon his return.

“I think he’d like a welcome back.” Kaveh hums, persistent.

“I will welcome him back when he returns to work, there is no reason for me to go out of my way to deliver it.” He grips the book, crinkling the pages, no longer putting in the effort to make his reading act believable.

Kaveh sighs and then releases an ugly grunt. “Ugh! You are so stubborn!”

“And you are annoying, are we going to start listing our negative traits now? Is it that part of the evening yet?” He doesn’t – he doesn’t want to give in. To Kaveh, to his own urges, to the acknowledgment of the inconvenient feelings he’s seemingly developed for the General Mahamatra without his own brain’s permission.

Because he has developed some, and they’re entirely too persistent in his mind, overtaking his thoughts the moment work leaves them. And it certainly doesn’t help that everyone else seems to be aware of his troubles as well, and are acting like he’s stupid and obtuse.

“Why? Why won’t you go greet him?” Kaveh pouts, still needling.

Alhaitham’s eye twitches. “Well maybe.” He grits his teeth. “I want to give him his welcome back. In private.” He punctuates his words by slamming his book closed and setting it on the table loudly.

Kaveh’s eyes round and are quickly followed by Alhaitham’s once he realizes what he’s just insinuated, how indecent his words actually sounded.

“That’s not-” He tries but Kaveh squeaks and waves his hands in front of him frantically.

“I don’t want to know!” The blonde jolts up and bolts out of the room, leaving Alhaitham to stare after him in silent shock.

Well, that’s one way to get Kaveh to drop a subject. He’ll have to remember this for the future.

It’s like his entire being is fine-tuned to Cyno’s presence in Sumeru City. It’s like the hairs on the back of his neck can feel the electricity permanently buzzing underneath Cyno’s skin. It’s like the air is charged, it smells different, it’s like the city is breathing differently – it sounds different. The silence of the night sounds quieter, more settled, and the morning rush isn’t as loud.

It’s as if an integral part of the city has finally been returned, a piece of a whole slotting back in, setting things into motion.

Today is his last day with the matra and they’ve all gathered in his office for their final reports.

He is reluctant to admit that he doesn’t want this to be their last day of work together.

“Let me be candid with you,” He sighs, gathering all the reports they had delivered him into one file. “These mean nothing to me, but I’ll make sure the General Mahamatra reads through them.” Some of the matra shift uneasily on their feet – Tanina in particular grimacing with a strained smile.

“I would also like to propose-”, the room holds its collective breath, “that we continue our working relationships in the future. You see, it has come to my attention that the General Mahamatra has been overworking himself – for one reason or another.” He eyes Nasir and Nayla critically, staring them into silence.

“Therefore, I would like to offer you these positions as permanent. Not as often or as frequent for the patrolling matra, possibly devised better between a few others, but something along those lines.” He casts his gaze around the office, the matra stare back at him unflinchingly.

“Would this mean that the General Mahamatra would have more time to do… other things?” Nayla asks nudging Shohre with her elbow as the other adds.

“And would that mean your workload would lessen as well?”

“Yes.” He confirms, “You have proven yourself highly capable and trustworthy over the past three weeks and it would be a shame to let all your work and your progress go to waste.”

The matra take a moment and then abruptly huddle together in a circle. Alhaitham watches, befuddled, as they discuss among themselves what to do. A quiet murmur of voices fills the empty space. The voices fall silent as the matra reach a consensus.

Idhari is the first to spring up, a determined expression on his face. “Sir. We accept your proposal, Sir.”

“Excellent.”

“But, we have some conditions.” The matra states bravely, puffing his chest out.

“Oh?”

“Yessir.” Behaim butts in, perky even as the work day draws to a close. “We want you to take time off as well. Once or twice a week at least. And we want you to take your lunch breaks. Preferably with the General when he’s here. The two of you need to work less, we’ve decided.”

“Hm,” It’s not like Alhaitham works too much on purpose. He just gets lost in the endless writing and between the lines of text. So he forgets to eat sometimes, forgets to pause. Their worry is heartwarming if unnecessary, but he supposed this is what it means to have friends.

He should be used to this already, but alas.

“I could be persuaded. If the General Mahamatra agrees, of course.” Alhaitham sighs, “This all depends on his willingness to continue to divvy up his workload.”

Nayla nods, determined. “We’ll make sure he’s willing.”

“No foul play, please, he’s had a long trip back.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling like he’s overlooking a gaggle of school children.

“No promises.” Nayla chirps, clasping her hands together in front of her chest as the rest of the matra titter excitedly.

“Well, then. To a future partnership.” He waves a hand in the air and the matra cheer as one.

This is certainly going to be interesting.

Alhaitham is in the office by dawn the next day.

He couldn’t sleep last night again. He couldn’t eat and couldn’t even focus on reading. All he could do was think about how he’ll get to see Cyno in the morning – the thought consuming him and keeping him awake and tense. So come morning, he’d slept for a total of two hours and chugged three cups of coffee to wake himself up. And when the time wasn’t passing as quickly as he wanted it, not even his own pride was enough to keep him from darting outside the moment the sun had broken the horizon.

So he’s the first one in the office, and he’s pacing nervously left and right in front of the large desk. He’s been here for an hour already and he’s scared that he’ll wear a hole into the ground from the repeated motion. There’s barely anyone in the House of Daena but to make sure, he’d turned his headphones all the way up, wanting to hear every set of footsteps walking about.

He pauses his pacing when he finally, finally, zeroes in on the soft sound of bare feet against the cold ground, making their way towards him.

He sucks in a startled breath and freezes in his spot, unable to move a muscle as the elevator rises slowly. He gulps, palms sweating as the sound grows closer. He turns his headphones down, not wanting to get overwhelmed once Cyno arrives.

The crown of the Mahamatra’s head emerges from the elevator opening, shining and white, reflecting the spinning mechanism’s glow again. And really, no time has passed, it’s been three weeks, barely a month but it seems as though Alhaitham is seeing the General in a new light. One that’s rosy and glimmering as Cyno finally appears in front of him like a mirage among the sands after days of walking and dying of heat.

“Grand Sage,” Cyno sounds surprised to see him there and Alhaitham wants to say something professional, something respectful, ask how his trip went, how Mondstadt was, how the festival looked.

Instead, what leaves his mouth is a thin little “Cyno”.

Archons damned him.

Cyno falters, eyes growing wide. “What’s wrong?” The Mahamatra jogs the last few steps until he’s standing in front of Alhaitham, close enough to touch.

“No – um. Nothing. There’s nothing wrong… I’m just – glad you’re back.” He clears his throat but doesn’t move an inch, can’t bring himself to step away from the General.

“You are?” Cyno gapes, saucers for eyes – amber and so, so beautiful.

“Of course.” He thinks this is it. There is absolutely nothing other on his sleep-deprived mind than taking the General’s face between his palms and squeezing his cheeks until they’re both red from embarrassment.

“Alhaitham?” Cyno hushes back, the tension leaving him.

“I.” He wheezes, the words painful to admit, his throat aching as they force themselves out. “I missed you.”

Cyno squeaks as Alhaitham’s hand develop a mind of their own and follow through on what his mind’s been thinking about ever since the other had left for his trip. He cups the other’s face between his wide palms, fingers spanning the side of the other’s head, tangling in pale strands of hair. His eyes flutter closed for a moment before zeroing in on the General’s imploring gaze.

“I’m sorry.” He says, “I’m sorry it took you leaving for me to realize how much I need you by my side.”

“Alhaitham, what?-” Cyno’s breathing stutters. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I’ve had plenty of time to think while you were absent. And I have to admit that only thing I thought about was you. About how much you work, how close you always are to me, how much I like it that way. Your notes – the little personalized ones, I’ve read them over and over again. And I need to know – were they just observations, or – or, have you missed me as well?” He’s rambling, he knows, the words wanting to leave him all mixing together. Oh, he should have planned this ahead of time. He should have planned what he would say when he saw the General again instead of overthinking things last night.

The word vomit seems to have done something to Cyno, however, seeing as the General looks absolutely stumped.

“What happened while I was gone – why are you?” Cyno’s hands come up to grip at his wrists and Alhaitham wishes the Mahamatra didn’t have his headdress on, the jackal intimidating and beautiful but getting in the way of him seeing the other’s face fully.

“Nothing. Nothing happened. Work was boring and a waste of my time, your matra helped, they were wonderful. But nothing happened except that I came to a sudden and startling realization.” He allows himself to smile, genuine and whole, feeling as if the warmth in his chest is radiating outward.

“And what is it?” Cyno’s fingers flex against his wrists.

“That I have, ah, feelings. For you. That are of the romantic sort.” He finally gets out, breathing heavily as his legs turn to jelly.

The rush of getting the words out there is exhilarating. There is nothing in his life that has ever been as difficult but as rewarding. Regardless of what Cyno says in turn, the rush of all of these tumultuous thoughts leaving his head is giving him vertigo like he’d ingested a mushroom he shouldn’t have.

“Oh.” Cyno whispers, barely audible. “That’s, um, unexpected.”

“Is it?” He tips his head forward, centimeters away from the other’s.

“Yes. It is.” Cyno’s resolve rears its head again and his eyes slant downwards. Alhaitham is intimately aware of every spot they’re touching – his wrists, the nose of the jackal faintly against his forehead.

“You’ve never given any indication.” Cyno’s grip tightens further, surely bruising Alhaitham’s skin by this point. That quiet strength.

“And what a grave mistake that was.” He grunts, thinking back to the time only three weeks prior to now. “I have always enjoyed your company and valued your input, your intellect. The trust I put in you to share my work means a lot to me, but I realize now that it may not mean the same thing to you. I have always… struggled with emotions and attraction. I was not aware of it myself until recently.”

“Until I was not there?” Cyno asks to reaffirm.

“Yes.” He nods, bumping his forehead against the other’s headdress accidentally. “It felt – it felt as though a vital part of the machine was missing. And that the matra were just there as placeholders, good as they are at their jobs. And I don’t know when you became such a vital part of – of me, but you have. So while I would not request you stay by my side forever, which is, rationally speaking-”

“Alhaitham.”

“Sorry, right.” He clears his throat, feeling flushed and jittery all over. “I humbly request that the next time you leave, you take me with you. Help me find a council, appoint new Sages, and let me stay by your side instead.”

Cyno closes his eyes, slamming them shut tightly as he starts shaking his head. “You – you’re unbelievable. I leave for three weeks and you’re a different person. And now you’re sprouting nonsense about – about forever and – what even am I supposed to say to that?”

“Just say what you mean. Tell me what you, ah, feel.” He chuckles, amused that he, of all people, is talking about feelings.

Cyno blinks his eyes open again, meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what I feel. There’s too much. You’re too much. And not – not in a bad way, but simply… overwhelming. I – have missed you. I missed Sumeru as well, and no matter how beautiful Mondstadt, it’s not home. It doesn’t have the people I care about.”

He sighs, sensing that whatever Cyno is saying is definitely not a reciprocation of his feelings. He starts letting go, fingers flexing on the other’s face before loosening.

But Cyno steps closer, the movement knocking the headdress off his crown, the sound of it hitting the floor soft, revealing the light hair underneath.

“People I care about, which, to my own mortification, includes you.” Cyno sighs heavily and Alhaitham feels it against his own chest with how close they’re pressed together now.

“You are by far the most infuriating man I’ve ever met. You’re rude and you have no social tact. You’re cold and you ignore whatever doesn’t interest you but – but you’re also smart. You’re more caring than you give away, you’re honest and despite your own preference, you have taken on the monumental task of leading all of the Akademiya.” Cyno huffs, moving his hands up until they’re overlapping Alhaitham’s.

“I missed you, yes. I missed the quiet mornings, forcing you to take breaks. The way you so openly dislike half the researchers that have to brown nose and beg for approval even though they hate you just as much. How stubborn you are – and, ah, the version of you once I was on vacation. That was a jarring discovery – that you can be so – so…” Cyno grins.

“Normal?” He smiles back, teasing.

“Endearing.” Cyno scrunches his nose up.

“Endearing?”

“Cute, even.” Cyno nods in his hold.

“I don’t know about that one.” He snorts and Cyno hums.

“You said you trust me, so trust me on this as well.”

“Does this mean you share my affliction?” He can’t help but ask, wanting confirmation, wanting that validation.

“So needy.” Cyno flashes his teeth at him and Alhaitham startles, having forgotten momentarily that Cyno spent most of his life in the wild and that there is a reason he is as feared as he is.

“Well? Indulge me, would you?” He persists, wanting to hear it.

With another sigh that fans across Alhaitham’s own face. “Yes, I have romantic feelings for you as well. Or, rather, I like you, as the regular people would say.”

“That is far too ambiguous for my taste.” He snorts as Cyno clicks his tongue at him.

“Shut up.” The Mahamatra then moves forward, pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss.

Alhaitham’s brain functions promptly die off one by one, shutting down until only the awareness he’s developed of Cyno remains. The kiss is soft but insistent, as Cyno shoves him lightly until his thighs hit his vast desk. He slumps against it and this gives Cyno better reach.

“There we go,” The General murmurs against his mouth and Alhaitham bites back a smile at the reminder of their height difference.

“Having trouble?” He repositions his hands to the back of the other’s neck, tangling his fingers further into the silken strands.

“Always,” Cyno chuckles, a husky sound deep in his chest. “But not with this. Let me show you.”

And Alhaitham was wholly unprepared for Cyno to take charge like he does. It makes sense in a way, the General’s Mahamatra disposition winning over, directing Alhaitham with his lips, his hands on his hips, his tongue in his mouth. Quickly running out of breath, Alhaitham is forced to reconsider his own previous intimate experiences as paltry in comparison. Something ugly coils in his chest at the brief thought of Cyno with others but he lets it go, enjoying the moment for what it is. A coming together, a slotting of the missing piece into the bigger picture.

“Tell me,” He whispers as they break for breath. “Have you spoken of your feelings for me with others?”

Cyno knocks their foreheads together lightly. “You always have to have an answer to everything, don’t you?”

“Would I be me?” He quips back and Cyno laughs breathily.

“To answer your question, if you must know, is yes.” Cyno admits with a coy smile. “I may have complained about you one too many times to Tighnari and Candace, causing them to draw conclusions I was not ready to hear.”

“I see.” Alhaitham’s heart kicks up in speed and he’s baffled that this is what would get him excited. But to know that he was thought about, that he was talked about enough that Cyno’s feelings were obvious.

“You – you’re a strange man,” Cyno shakes his head fondly. “I can never read you. If I had known – well.”

“I think I needed the distance.” He admits in turn. “I don’t think I would have realized my feelings otherwise.”

“Obtuse.” Cyno nudges his nose with his own. “Oblivious. Obstinate, even.”

“Any more ‘O’ words?” He teases, enjoying the way the other’s shaping the sounds.

“Obnoxious,” Cyno hisses, pushing until Alhaitham is fully seated on the desk so he can situate himself between his spread thighs. “Obtrusive.”

“So mean, General Mahamatra.” He drawls and Cyno lets out a low groan.

“Overconfident.” The other pivots, pressing close to trail blazing kisses along his jaw. “Opulent.”

“Ah,” He gasps as Cyno’s fingers dig into his hips.

“Obscene,” The General groans against his throat, pointed canines pressing where the neck of his shirt ends.

“Speechless are we?” Cyno’s hands drop lower to rest on his thighs, squeezing.

“Do I need to speak? Have you missed my voice that much?” He grins as Cyno growls in warning, sending arousal spreading from his stomach downwards.

“I changed my mind,” The other detaches himself from the soft skin of his neck. “I prefer you silent.”

“I have bad news for you then,” He grins as Cyno pauses. “I’m quite loud. And this room echoes.”

Cyno shudders against him. “Now there’s a threat I wouldn’t mind seeing realized.”

“Hurry up and do something about it then,” He grips the other with his legs, shuffling himself closer to the edge of the table and pressing his pelvis against Cyno’s.

Sparks fly behind his closed eyelids as the brief friction makes the other gasp. The air around them sizzles with electricity and his skin starts tingling where it connects with the other’s. He’s overly warm and buzzing with nerves and Cyno’s hands refuse to move where he needs them most.

“Cyno – are you willing to progress this further or should we wait for a more appropriate time and place?” He asks, unable to stay silent on the matter any longer.

Cyno huffs, “How far are you suggesting?”

“Your lovely hands would do,” He takes the other’s palms away from his thighs and presses them to his chest.

Cyno’s eyes light up almost as if he’s realizing something. “Oh!” The General’s grin turns absolutely feral as he squeezes Alhaitham’s chest and Alhaitham’s hips twitch at the intense attention those strong digits start lavishing upon it.

“Cyno-” He refuses to admit to the whine as the other’s hands massage the pectorals.

“Oh, I have wanted to do this.” The General admits. “They’re just so-” A dreamy sigh. “Big.”

“Yes, um, I’m – ah, aware. Cyno.” He hisses as the General presses his face between the muscles.

“Let me have this.” Cyno pleads, bright eyes almost devoid of color as the pupil overtakes them.

“I’ll let you have anything you want if you touch me.” He won’t beg, his pride won’t allow for it, but he’ll get as close to as possible.

“As you command, Grand Sage, Sir.” Cyno grins dangerously and his hands make quick work of Alhaitham’s trousers. The material gets lowered enough for Cyno to pull his hardness out into the air.

“Fuck,” He gasps as Cyno spits in his hand and finally takes him in hand. “Yes.”

“You’re big all over, hm?” The General teases, taking his time with dragging his hand up and down, the way getting slicker the hotter Alhaitham gets under the collar.

“Proportional” He hisses as Cyno’s other hand cups over the head, massaging gently.

“Such a smart mouth.” Cyno rewards – or punishes, he’s not sure – him by darting forward and pressing his teeth into the meat of his chest, biting.

“Not only skilled with words,” His eyelashes flutter, unable to tear his gaze away from Cyno’s bony digits working over his member. He feels the other’s grip everywhere, he’s a raw, exposed nerve that is being teased and plucked until he hums, producing music. The metaphors in his head get muddled as Cyno’s teeth continue to worry at his skin through the thin material of his shirt.

“Make me come and I’ll show you.” He promises, enjoying the way the other goes taut all over at the promise. Enjoying the thrill of power as Cyno’s hand speeds up and he dribbles spit down onto his head again.

“Yes, yes.” His voice goes a little reedy as the wave crests, the height of it making him dizzy, before it swoops down through his entire being, his release leaving him with another whiny moan that he would deny releasing if asked. “Cyno.”

“Archons, look at you.” Cyno croons, hands slowing down and releasing Alhaitham as he becomes oversensitive. “Obscene, covered in your own spend, messy, sloppy.”

“You and your words.” He sighs, feeling loose and relaxed for once.

“I would wax poetry about you if I knew you’d let me,” Cyno threatens and Alhaitham thinks he’d rather have the other tell him jokes, honestly.

“Let’s save that for when I’m too drunk to care.” He shuffles his hand along the desk and comes up with a few papers that he uses to ineffectively clean himself and Cyno’s hands off.

“That someone’s research proposal.” The other points out.

“Then they can propose again when I tell them I lost their last one.” He rolls his eyes, beyond caring about such trivial things that are not getting his pants up and putting his mouth on Cyno.

He slips off the desk, causing Cyno to take a step back, bringing them again to their original height difference that leaves the General pouting. He grins and easily picks the other up, settling him onto the table where he just was.

“Unfair,” The other protests.

“Let me make it up to you.” He eyes the other’s adornments then zeroes in on where the other’s belt latches. He works efficiently, eager to get to the length tenting the other’s shorts. He’s – he’s eager but Cyno, oh, the general is basically panting for it – chest heaving and hands clenching against the edge of the table.

“Hold still and play nice.” He tugs the shorts down and the other’s hardness springs up, weeping at the tip with how excited he is for this.

“Haitham.” Cyno gasps at the first press of lips to the head, quickly followed by his tongue, hands supporting the heaviness.

“Hold still,” He warns again and then, lips over teeth, allows himself to take some of the length in. He’s only done this a few times, more out of curiosity and convenience than anything, but he wants it to be good for Cyno. Because Cyno matters. He isn’t some random student that was brave enough to seek him out, lead on by Alhaitham’s good looks. No, Cyno knew him fully, knew who he is, knew things about him that most people never will.

Cyno is someone Alhaitham wants to please, wants to make feel good, wants to make incoherent with pleasure. And certainly, Cyno is babbling. A mix of curses and Alhaitham’s own name, mingling with whiny moans and a gasp here and there.

He grips the base as his lips meet his ring finger and thumb, the length mostly in his mouth now, pleasantly heavy and filling some primal part of his brain that has an oral fixation. He moves his tongue and Cyno bucks, sending the head of his length bumping into the back of his throat. He pushes through the threat of a gag and Cyno meets his eyes, wonder in his gaze as his hand slowly twines with Alhaitham’s locks.

“You’re… fuck. You’re amazing.” Cyno stutters out, his free hand gripping his own hair like he doesn’t know what to do with it. “I need – I’m going to-”

He pulls off and Cyno whines loud enough that he feels bad for the other.

“Come on,” He crouches in front of the other. “Touch yourself. I want to see you finish yourself off, want to see you climax.” He leans closer, offering the other a nice canvas to pain.

Cyno’s eyes zero in on his chest again as he grips himself, stroking his length at a brutal pace.

Alhaitham grips his thighs, thumbs pressing into the muscle and grinning as Cyno’s eyes refuse to stray from his chest. He chuckles and decides that if this is how it is going to be, he might as well indulge the other. In a swift motion, he untucks his shirt and pulls it up with one hand, holding it just so that it presses his pectorals slightly together.

“Fuck!” Cyno jolts forward as he comes, release warm against Alhaitham’s chest.

They’re both panting now, looking down at the drops making their way down the curve of Alhaitham’s pectorals.

“Well,” He smirks as Cyno’s face grows impossibly redder.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yes, perhaps it’s breast if we don’t.” He laughs as Cyno’s mouth drops open.

“You!”

“Welcome back, General.”

“This is stupid.” Cyno huffs, arms crossed over his chest.

“Your matra are worried about you.” Alhaitham points out. “It took seven of them to do your duties daily, don’t you think that’s a little excessive?”

“Yes, which is why I do them on my own.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Cyno rolls his eyes and waves Nayla away as she tries to feed him another sweet roll.

“I did not require a welcome back party, especially when it’s a thinly veiled intervention.” The General continues being huffy until Alhaitham hooks his ankle with his under the table.

He leans closer so that he’s whispering in the other’s ear. “Look as it this way, if we have less work, we have more free time. Free time to do other things together.”

“Ah,” Cyno nods, bringing a hand to his chin. “I see, you want to learn how to play TCG.”

He closes his eyes briefly, nodding solemnly. “Yes, that is exactly it.”

Cyno’s eyes sparkle with mischief and for once, Alhaitham is in on the joke, not missing any piece of the puzzle, he’s finally seeing the full picture.

And what a picture it is – white-haired and ethereal, beautiful when incensed and even more sublime when in throes of passion.

How lucky he is, to have eyes to witness it with, ears to hear its call with and hands to worship it.