sic semper tyrannis

reformatio in peius

If breaking up the protests succeeded at one thing, it wasn't bringing back the peace. In fact, it only made more rumors circulate and the aristocrats were growing reckless. Kaveh knew that and yet he sat idly by.

He just smiled at Alhaitham when he asked if there was anything to be done about their growing disapproval and told him there was nothing to worry about. He'd wanted to argue there was much to worry about, but he held his tongue and nodded instead. If Kaveh was sure he had it handled, he'd trust him.

He'd trust him through everything—even when he returned to his bedroom one night to find the blond sobbing on the bed. The crown he usually wore was discarded on the ground next to the wall, seemingly having been thrown off, and Kaveh had a pillow pulled to his face to muffle his weeping.

Despite his better judgment, Alhaitham approached the bed and placed a hand on the side, leaning his weight against it. "Kaveh," he whispered. "What's wrong?"

His king nearly jumped at the noise, raising his head to stare at him with puffy eyes. He brought a hand to them, wiping away tear stains, and sniffled. "You don't have to pretend to care," he murmured.

"I do care," Alhaitham replied without a second thought. He sat down on the edge of the bed, just watching him carefully. He was afraid if he moved any further, it'd startle him more and he wouldn't say anything at all. Kaveh was always keen on keeping his thoughts a secret, even when they tore him apart like this.

Kaveh sighed, crawling over to sit beside him and lean his head onto his shoulder. He wrapped both arms around Alhaitham's, pulling him close. "I know," he whispered after a moment. "I know you do. I'm just stupid and I overthink everything."

Alhaitham sighed. He didn't want to agree per se (Kaveh certainly wasn't stupid), but that tendency he had to over complicate simple things until hills were mountains certainly didn't help his case. "What are you thinking about this time?" he asked instead.

"Sumeru," Kaveh answered immediately. "I'm always thinking about Sumeru now. I have to do everything right, but it feels impossible and I know you told me it is and that's fine, but people complain so much. The poor seem content for now but I keep doing my best to improve trade and pay and everything for the damn aristocrats and nothing seems to be enough for them. Nothing I do is ever good enough."

"What you do isn't the problem," Alhaitham said. It caused Kaveh to raise his head, gazing at him confused. "Nothing is ever good enough for those people no matter who's doing it. You need to stop worrying about them."

"Well—" Kaveh bit his lip, then released a quick huff. "Yeah, I know, but they're..." He trailed off, averting his gaze suddenly. "They've started this stupid rumor about a revolution."

Alhaitham blinked, confused. "What would they even revolt against? You've barely been on the throne for half a year."

"Don't bother, it's stupid!" Kaveh threw his hands in the air exasperated. "There's no logic behind it, so don't try to think of any. It's just—ugh." He leaned back onto the bed, throwing himself down onto it. His hair spread out around him, mixing with the covers, and he crossed his arms over his head as he stared up at the top of the canopy. "I'm just upset over it and worried and I... I don't know what to do."

"You never know what to do," Alhaitham replied. He turned to stare down at him, pressing one hand down into the sheets to support his weight. "Has that stopped you yet?"

Kaveh rolled his eyes. "I suppose not."

"Then there's your answer."

He huffed at that, running a hand through his hair. At least he no longer seemed to be upset to the point of tears. Now it was that dry anger Kaveh had only ever gone about with when things were blatantly unfair, like when the Sages prevented him from learning even when it was so obvious he knew he was being fed lies.