Chapter Text
Upon returning from their vacation in Gandharva Ville, Kaveh felt completely renewed, as if he had been born again. He was practically glowing with joy and overwhelming happiness. The omega brought that positive pregnancy test back with him, tucking it safely away in one of his jewelry boxes. He still couldn't stop staring at it, unable to believe it was actually real. Alhaitham didn't even comment on it; he knew all too well how long and painful their journey to this moment had been. It was entirely expected that this item would become Kaveh’s ultimate treasure.
It felt to both of them like everything would finally be alright and that all the hardships were behind them. The architect thought he was ready for anything, fully prepared to endure the next nine months. But his confidence quickly shattered against reality the moment his euphoria gave way to his very first pregnancy symptoms.
First came an inexplicable, bone-deep fatigue. One evening, Kaveh stayed up late in his workshop as usual, working on blueprints for a new project. When he tried to get up from his desk, the room tilted dangerously before his eyes. The sounds around him blurred, and gray spots floated in the dim room. A sudden wave of nausea nearly sent him crashing to the floor—the blonde only managed to blindly grab the edge of the desk, breathing heavily and rapidly in an attempt to hold onto his slipping consciousness. He had to spend a few minutes like that, frozen and gripping the wood, before his vision returned to normal.
Just a couple of days later, the omega faced scent aversion for the first time, and at that point, hiding the problem from his husband became impossible. It all started with the morning coffee Alhaitham brewed for himself in the kitchen: its once pleasant, invigorating aroma suddenly seemed suffocating and unbearably bitter to the omega. A little later, the situation repeated itself during lunch in the living room. The Scribe had brought butter chicken with spices from the tavern, but the moment he untied the thick cloth and opened the clay pot, Kaveh cut himself off mid-sentence. The familiar scent of spices instantly triggered a heavy lump in his throat. The architect could only weakly push the plate away, cover his mouth with his hand, and rush out into the fresh air under his husband's bewildered gaze.
This was only the beginning. Soon, everything became much worse.
Morning had not even truly begun, and the omega was already racing to the bathroom. Because of the grueling morning sickness, he would spend nearly an hour there, clinging to the toilet. Alhaitham could never sleep through these moments and always got up right after him, checking in a little later with a glass of lemon water. He looked at Kaveh sitting on the floor against the wall: pale, sweaty, and utterly depleted. His heart wrenched with sympathy, but his face remained habitually expressionless.
"Drink this," the alpha said softly, kneeling beside his husband and handing him the glass. "It will help soothe the nausea."
Kaveh raised a blurred gaze to him and took the water with a trembling hand. After taking a few sips, he grimaced and coughed, causing Alhaitham to lean forward in a brief flash of panic.
"Don't rush," he warned, gently brushing the damp strands of hair away from the omega's face.
"I can't drink this. It's worse than Tighnari's herbal decoction," Kaveh rasped, breathing heavily. His voice was completely stripped of its usual vibrant notes from sheer exhaustion. "I'm going to die like this."
"It's just lemon, Kaveh. You've had it before," Alhaitham reminded him, taking the glass back before it could slip from Kaveh's hands.
"Well, now I hate it."
Alhaitham didn't argue. He set the glass on the edge of the sink, dampened a small towel with cool water, and gently wiped his husband's face and neck. Kaveh closed his eyes in relief, leaning into the unusually soft touch. But just a minute later, he suddenly jolted up, crouching over the toilet again in another fit of vomiting. The alpha dropped to his knees and carefully gathered Kaveh's hair in his hands, holding it back out of the way.
When Kaveh finally stopped retching, he leaned back limply, resting his head against the shoulder of the alpha standing behind him. The omega's breathing was ragged, and a faint tremor shook his body. Alhaitham didn't say a word. He gently let go of Kaveh's hair, helped him wash his face with cool water, and then easily—as if the other weighed nothing at all—scooped him up in his arms and carried him to the bedroom. The architect was too exhausted to protest or grumble over his bruised pride. He only buried his nose deeper into the crook of his lover's neck, breathing in his soothing, familiar scent.
After lowering Kaveh onto the bed, the Scribe tucked him in, pulling the blanket all the way to his chin.
"Stay here. I'll bring breakfast," he said softly, but in a tone that brooked no argument.
Now that the omega was in no condition to stand by the stove, all the cooking in the house fell onto the alpha's shoulders. Previously, he hadn't liked wasting time on it, always leaving that privilege to his husband. Before their marriage, Alhaitham generally preferred buying ready-made food from Lambad's Tavern or eating out. But now, it was his duty to personally care for his partner's sensitive stomach.
Fifteen minutes later, Alhaitham returned with a small tray. It lacked the usual aromatic coffee, the mere scent of which would have definitely turned Kaveh inside out again. Instead, the tray held only a bowl of mushroom cream soup, completely plain yogurt, and a couple of pieces of toasted flatbread.
The blonde eyed the tray suspiciously, weakly wrinkling his nose.
"I don't think I can..."
"There are no spices. And there's no scent," the alpha interrupted, sitting on the edge of the mattress. He broke off a tiny, bite-sized piece of the dry flatbread and offered it to his husband. "Try it. You need to eat at least something, otherwise an empty stomach will start to rebel even harder."
Kaveh reluctantly opened his mouth, accepting the food from his hands. The flatbread indeed tasted bland, but to his surprise, the nausea didn't rush back with a vengeance. Chewing slowly, he exhaled softly and closed his eyes, mentally acknowledging that this unbearable yet incredibly caring man was right.
Once convinced that the first bite was staying down, Alhaitham gently scooped up a little warm mushroom soup with a spoon and brought it to his husband's lips again. Kaveh obediently ate a few spoonfuls, feeling a faint, pleasant warmth finally spread through his body. When the bowl was half empty, the blonde weakly shook his heavy head, letting his alpha know that he couldn't manage another bite. The Scribe didn't insist. He silently set the tray aside, adjusted the blanket that had slipped down, and cast a brief glance at the wall clock. Time was ticking, and documents were waiting for him at the Akademiya, but Alhaitham caught himself thinking that he desperately wanted to skip work just to stay here and guard the omega's peace.
"Alright, stop looking at me like that," Kaveh suddenly grumbled, a belated blush of embarrassment warming his cheeks. "I'm fine. You can go to your important business at the Akademiya, I won't die here all on my own."
The Scribe understood that Kaveh simply needed to regain a sense of control after his morning helplessness, so he didn't argue. Silently pressing a soft kiss to his temple, he picked up the tray and quietly left the bedroom.
Soon, the muffled click of the front door echoed through the house—Alhaitham was gone. Silence settled over the home. Kaveh rolled onto his side, feeling himself finally drifting into a deep, healing sleep. For a second, his gaze caught the dresser where that very test lay inside the carved jewelry box. The morning nightmare still lingered as weakness in his body, but now, looking at this treasure, Kaveh felt nothing but warmth. All this suffering, the morning sickness, and the exhaustion—it was all nothing compared to the miracle they had waited for so long. He gently placed his palm over his still-flat belly and finally fell asleep with a smile on his lips.
***
The alpha tried to leave work as early as possible, sometimes even taking his work home. And if before he had been driven by a desire to waste less time on stupid paperwork, now he simply didn't want to leave Kaveh alone for too long. The other was far too stubborn to complain or ask for help. He needed constant supervision.
But this time, Alhaitham was textually delayed because of a personal request from Lesser Lord Kusanali. As a result, he returned home late in the evening, just as it was starting to get dark outside. A dead silence hung over the rooms. The alpha heard no clattering of utensils in the kitchen, no rustling of blueprints, and none of the usual grumbling. In the thick twilight of the living room, he didn't immediately notice Kaveh sitting on the couch, but as he listened closely, he froze: quiet, ragged sobs were coming from beneath a blanket pulled all the way up to his nose.
Alhaitham immediately stepped closer and sat beside him. He gently pulled the fabric down, revealing his husband's face. Kaveh was indeed crying. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were damp with tears.
"Kaveh?" For the first time, a flash of naked anxiety broke through the Scribe's voice. "What happened?"
The blonde drew a shaky breath, covering his face with his hands, and everything that had been building up inside during those long hours of solitude finally spilled out.
"I can't do this anymore, Alhaitham..." his voice broke into a helpless sob. "I've felt awful all day. Everything I smell makes me retch, and I don't even have the strength to walk to the kitchen. I... I hate it. I hate feeling like this! I just want it to stop!"
The omega sobbed harder, burying his forehead into his husband's shoulder, his fingers desperately clawing at the thick fabric of the other's cape.
"I'm so ashamed... I want this baby so much! We've come such a long way, and I'm so incredibly eager to meet them... But my body... I feel so miserable. I'm terrified that I just won't survive all nine months. I'm a horrible omega for even thinking that, aren't I?"
Alhaitham silently pulled him close, letting him cry it out. He gently stroked his lover's back and released soothing pheromones, making him feel completely safe. The architect gasped for air, gradually calming down to the steady beat of the heart in the alpha's chest and his familiar, grounding scent of green tea.
It took quite a while before the ragged sobs gave way to quiet, shallow breathing. Kaveh tiredly buried his face in the crook of his husband's neck, still sniffing but no longer trying to pull away or hide beneath the blanket. The deep guilt that had tormented him all day finally began to recede under the weight of this warm, reliable presence.
The Scribe waited until his lover grew completely still, then gently lifted him by the chin, forcing Kaveh to look at him.
"You are not horrible," the alpha said softly but firmly, using his thumb to wipe away the remaining tears from Kaveh's reddened cheeks. "You are human. And right now, things are physically very hard on you. Hating this weakness and pain doesn't make you a bad parent. You don't have to be made of iron, Kaveh. And you don't have to go through this alone."
The blonde sniffled again, looking away, but he didn't pull his cheek away from his husband's hand.
"Would you like me to make you some tea with honey?" Alhaitham offered, mentally cooing at the omega's embarrassment.
"I think so… If it's not too much trouble."
The alpha slowly rose from the couch and went into the kitchen. Soon, the quiet clatter of dishes and the soft, sweet aroma of honey drifted from the room. The Scribe returned to the living room, holding a warm ceramic mug. He helped his husband settle comfortably among the pillows and handed him the drink. Kaveh obediently accepted the tea with both hands, warming his chilled fingers. He took a first cautious sip, listening to his fickle belly, but the warm, sweet liquid was surprisingly well-received by his body, pleasantly soothing his raw throat. The blonde tiredly closed his eyes, feeling a long-awaited, comforting warmth finally spread through his exhausted body.
A week later, once another severe bout of morning sickness was finally managed thanks to the sour candies sent from Gandharva Ville, it was time for their first official visit to Bimarstan. Kaveh was a nervous wreck. He went through half his wardrobe, trying to find loose clothes that wouldn't tightly hug his belly, even though it was still completely flat.
Tighnari was waiting for them near the hospital entrance. Spotting the pale architect, who was clearly trying to keep up appearances, the Forest Watcher offered a sympathetic smile and gently led them inside, bypassing the main queue.
"I’ve arranged a consultation with Amurta’s finest healer, who specializes specifically in managing omega pregnancies," Tighnari said quietly as they walked through the bright corridors of Bimarstan, which smelled of clean linen and dried herbs. "You don't need to worry, Kaveh, everything will be kept strictly confidential. It'll also do your husband some good to hear what kind of environment he needs to provide for you at home now."
Alhaitham merely nodded in silence, tightening his grip on Kaveh's elbow. The omega desperately tried to hide how much his fingers were trembling, but his husband's reassuring presence and his friend's confident, calm tone helped keep the rising panic at bay.
Inside the office, they were greeted by an elderly healer with kind eyes. Tighnari spoke with him briefly and then gestured for the future parents to take a seat. The doctor approached the appointment with all the rigor of an Amurta scholar. First, he asked Kaveh to step onto the heavy brass scales in the corner of the room to record his exact starting weight. He shook his head thoughtfully, looking at the needle—because of the morning sickness, the architect had noticeably lost weight. Next, the healer asked him to roll up his sleeve for a mandatory blood draw to check his level of physical exhaustion. Kaveh winced in annoyance and looked away as the needle pricked his vein, and Alhaitham stepped closer, silently taking his free hand and squeezing it lightly in support. After filling a glass vial, the doctor gently pressed a clean cloth over the puncture site and returned to his desk to ask the mandatory questions.
"Well now, Kaveh, tell me everything in your own words," the man said softly, dipping his quill into the ink. "How often do you experience fits of vomiting? Do they happen only in the morning, or do they last all day? How are you reacting to smells and tastes? Have you felt any pain in your lower belly, or any sudden dizziness?"
The architect hesitated slightly, feeling self-conscious under the expectant gazes of the doctor, Tighnari, and especially Alhaitham. It was one thing to cry quietly into his husband's shoulder in the dark of their living room, but it was another thing entirely to voice all these physiological details to a stranger.
"Well..." He looked away, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "The nausea mostly happens on an empty stomach, early in the morning. I can spend about an hour stuck in the bathroom. The smell of coffee and Sumeru spices makes me retch instantly. A couple of days ago, everything went black when I stood up too quickly from my desk—I nearly fainted. But there's no pain in my stomach."
The healer focused on writing down every answer in the medical chart. Once finished, he asked Kaveh to lie down on the examination table for a gentle palpation. Centimeter by centimeter, he pressed down on Kaveh's belly, checking the muscle tone, and finally placed his fingers on the omega's wrist, intently listening to the steady beat of his pulse. A tense silence settled over the room. Kaveh held his breath, fearfully darting his eyes from the doctor to his husband, who stood nearby and seemed to have stopped blinking entirely.
Finally, the healer pulled his hand away and offered the future parents a warm look.
"Well, congratulations. The fetus seems to have implanted well. The uterus has some tone, but that is perfectly normal at this stage. The slippery pulse typical of pregnancy confirms that the baby is doing just fine. However, your own body, Kaveh, is severely depleted because of the morning sickness. Your weight loss and near-fainting spells are clear proof of that. You need strict rest, proper relaxation, and absolutely no stress from your construction projects."
That very second, a notepad and pencil appeared from Alhaitham's pocket. The Scribe adopted a look of ultimate concentration and began quickly writing down the doctor’s words.
"Right," the alpha said strictly, not taking his eyes off the paper. "Sleep and rest schedule. Ban on work. What are the prescriptions for diet and physical activity? Will the iron levels in his blood require adjustment?"
Kaveh, who was just sitting back down in his chair, blushed furiously and buried his face in his hands with a groan.
"Alhaitham, for the Archons' sake, hide that, you're embarrassing me!" he hissed, ready to sink through the floor at his husband's sheer thoroughness. "You're acting like you're accepting the Akademiya's annual report, not sitting in a doctor's office! As for the blood work, the results won't even be ready until later!"
Tighnari merely snorted quietly into his fist, trying his hardest not to laugh out loud at this familiar domestic scene, while the elderly healer smiled good-naturedly.
"It is quite alright, Kaveh," the old man said gently, returning to his desk. "Write this down, young man. You will indeed pick up the blood test results tomorrow at the reception desk, but I will give you the general recommendations right now. First: meals should be frequent but small. He needs to eat often, but in tiny portions, so as not to overload his stomach. Avoid greasy foods and pungent Sumeru spices—they are your main enemy right now. Second: cut physical exertion to a minimum. No heavy bags and no long journeys."
Alhaitham's pencil flew rapidly across the paper, capturing every word with the precision of a state decree.
"And what about the morning fits?" the alpha asked, not looking up from his notepad. "Mint tea and lemon only provide temporary relief. Are there any medical remedies capable of completely eliminating the sickness?"
"Completely? No, this is a natural process as the body adjusts," the old man shook his head. "But we can ease the symptoms. I will write a prescription for special soothing powders made from Kalpalata Lotus root. They are made right here in our Bimarstan pharmacy; they are tasteless and odorless."
"I will pick them up myself every two weeks," Alhaitham immediately barked out, shutting his notepad with a dull thud.
"Wonderful then," the doctor smiled, handing the Scribe the filled-out sheet of parchment. "And remember: the most important thing for an omega right now is peace of mind. Do not give him any reason for tears or distress."
Kaveh finally pulled his hands away from his face. He was still a bit flushed, but now his gaze, fixed entirely on his husband, glowed with pure gratitude.
Once all the paperwork was signed and the prescription was safely tucked away in Alhaitham’s cloak pocket, the three of them stepped out of the stifling hospital into the fresh air. The Sumeru sun warmed them pleasantly, and a light breeze instantly swept away the lingering hospital smells that were still making Kaveh slightly nauseous. The architect took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, feeling an immense weight finally lift from his chest.
"Well then, future parents, it’s time for me to head back to Gandharva Ville," Tighnari said, stopping at a fork in the road and crossing his arms over his chest as his gaze flicked between the two. His long ears twitched slightly. "Alhaitham, don't forget about those powders. Without them, Kaveh won't last long on just yogurt. And you, mister architect, don't even think about sneaking around with your ruler at night. I will find out anyway, and I'll come over to personally confiscate your blueprints."
"Don't trouble yourself, I’ll do it before you get the chance," the Scribe replied with a smirk.
Kaveh merely rolled his eyes but didn't argue, offering the Forest Watcher a soft smile instead.
"Thank you, Tighnari. Really. Without you, we would have kept putting this off for a long time."
"That’s what friends are for," the Fennec smiled warmly in farewell, giving them a wave before heading down the forest paths.
Left alone, Alhaitham and Kaveh made their way toward their home without any rush. The Scribe walked a bit closer than usual, subtly offering his shoulder just in case the omega's head started to spin again.
The moment they stepped across the threshold, Alhaitham locked the door and turned to his husband. Unshakable determination mirrored in his eyes.
"So," the alpha said, fishing his notepad out of his pocket once again. "From this moment on, your tools and drawing tubes are moving into the wardrobe. I will keep the key to the workshop. You will eat three times a day in small portions, and I will be the one cooking them. Any questions?"
Kaveh blinked in utter bewilderment, his gaze darting from the notepad to his husband's serious face. Indignation was already poised to spill from his lips. Lock his workshop?! Restrict his freedom?! But looking into those attentive turquoise eyes, so full of hidden anxiety and tenderness, the blonde could only let out a quiet, defeated sigh. He stepped closer and buried his forehead against his beloved alpha's chest.
"You are insufferable, Alhaitham," he mumbled muffledly, feeling a cozy warmth bloom deep inside him.
***
Despite the healer's strict bans and his husband's vigilance, Kaveh simply couldn't drop everything halfway. True, he wasn't taking on any new commissions, but he was bound to finish one—his largest and most important project, started before their vacation. The architect had solemnly promised Alhaitham that he would only work a couple of hours a day. But one evening, his stubbornness got the better of him again. Waking up in the middle of the night, the Scribe didn't find the omega beside him. Stepping into the living room, he was met with a familiar yet now terrifying sight: Kaveh was fast asleep right at his desk, his head resting limply on top of the unfinished blueprints. A pencil was still gripped in his fingers, and his pale face, illuminated by the dim glow of the lamp, bore the marks of utter exhaustion. Alhaitham didn't scold him or wake him up. Silently, with a frightening calmness, he took the pencil away and gently carried the sleeping man to bed. But the next morning, the alpha made a decision. Using his influence at the Akademiya, he personally tracked down Kaveh's clients and, dryly citing "family circumstances and the architect's temporary indisposition," insisted on an official extension of the deadlines. Without penalties or reprimands.
The truth came to light by evening, when the client sent Kaveh a polite letter wishing him a speedy recovery. That very second, a massive row broke out in the house.
"How could you?!" Kaveh stood in the middle of the living room, breathing heavily, his cheeks burning with anger and stinging resentment. He clutched the wretched letter in his hands. "Who gave you the right to interfere in my business?! I am an architect, Alhaitham! My name, my reputation are built on delivering my work on time! And you went to them behind my back and begged for handouts, as if I'm some helpless invalid!"
"You're not an invalid, you're a pregnant omega who passed out right at his desk from exhaustion last night," Alhaitham replied, ice-cold, not even looking up from his book. Yet, the fingers gripping the binding betrayed his inner tension. "Your reputation can wait. If you keep going like this, you will simply ruin your health. And the health of our baby."
"I am perfectly capable of pacing myself!" Bitter tears glistened in Kaveh's eyes. "I don't need your manipulations! I wanted to prove, first and foremost to myself, that I could handle this... and you just stripped me of that choice!"
Kaveh fell silent, desperately catching his breath. Alhaitham’s words about the baby hit like a physical blow, making his resentment flare up with a new, utterly helpless force. The architect slammed the wretched letter onto the table and spun away, burying his face in his hands. The omega's shoulders trembled finely—not a trace of his recent fury remained, instantly replaced by built-up fatigue and pure helplessness.
Alhaitham sighed quietly. He closed his books, set it aside, and rose from the couch. Approaching his husband from behind, the alpha gently wrapped his arms around Kaveh's waist, pulling him close and resting his chin on his shoulder. The Scribe softly released his soothing pheromones once again, enveloping the weeping omega in them.
"Let go..." Kaveh made a futile attempt to pull away, but his voice was barely a whisper. "You are insufferable. You always decide everything on your own."
"I admit that I acted selfishly," Alhaitham said quietly but firmly, tightening his embrace and refusing to let his husband shut him out. "But your reputation as a genius creator isn't going anywhere because of an extra two weeks. Sumeru knows what you are capable of. And I know how deeply you love your work. But right now, I cannot allow you to risk yourself. Please, just understand that."
Kaveh slowly lowered his hands, sniffling plaintively. The alpha's cozy warmth and the grounding scent of green tea were gradually restoring his composure. He relaxed into those strong arms, resting his head back against his husband's shoulder.
"I just... I was just afraid that if I stopped working, I would become utterly useless," the architect confessed in a whisper, staring out the window at the sleeping city. "That I would lock myself away at home and turn into a burden."
"You will never be a burden," Alhaitham turned Kaveh around to face him, gently wiping the tears from his cheeks. "You are creating something far more important than any building in Teyvat. You are carrying our baby. Allow yourself time to be weak, Kaveh. You are not in this alone."
The blonde silently buried his nose into his chest, exhaling softly. He didn't want to argue anymore.
And Kaveh truly gave in. He honestly tried to keep his word: he no longer worked on sketches in the living room at night (especially since the workshop remained locked most of the time!), uncomplainingly took his powders from Bimarstan, and obediently ate everything the alpha cooked. Except now, the exhausting morning sickness was joined by a new, completely uncontrollable first-trimester symptom—an overwhelming, bone-deep drowsiness. Fatigue would wash over the omega instantly, draining his strength in the middle of the most ordinary tasks. Kaveh was quite literally falling asleep on his feet, his body, thoroughly worn out by the hormonal changes, passing out in the most unexpected places.
One day, a suspicious silence in the house forced Alhaitham to look up from his books. Not long before, Kaveh had left for the kitchen, promising to brew some mint tea, but he never returned. Walking down the hallway, the Scribe came across a sight that made his heart squeeze with an ache of pure tenderness. The architect was fast asleep right at the kitchen table. He sat in his chair, his head resting limply on his folded arms, while an empty kettle stood lonely beside him, one that Kaveh hadn't even managed to fill with water. The sunlight streaming through the window softly illuminated his rumpled golden hair, and his face, stripped of its usual stubborn expression, looked entirely childlike in its vulnerability. Kaveh was so defenseless in this sudden moment of weakness that he didn't even stir when the alpha's heavy footsteps sounded right beside him.
Alhaitham didn't want to wake him, knowing all too well how badly the omega needed this healing rest. Carefully, trying not to make any sudden movements, he slid one arm beneath Kaveh's knees and placed the other under his back, effortlessly scooping him up into his arms. This action had already become entirely habitual for him. The blonde merely mumbled something quietly in his sleep, instinctively burying his nose into the crook of the alpha's neck, drawing closer to the source of that familiar, grounding scent of green tea. Alhaitham carried his husband into the bedroom, gently lowered him onto the bed, and pulled the blanket over him. Once assured that he was sleeping deeply and peacefully, the alpha pressed a brief kiss to his warm forehead and quietly slipped back to the kitchen to finally brew the tea himself.
***
The constant morning sickness, the weakness, and the endless warnings from the Bimarstan healer were exhausting Kaveh not only physically, but mentally as well. The fear of losing their long-awaited baby had taken a firm root in his mind. During the day, surrounded by Alhaitham’s care, he desperately tried to appear strong and let go of his anxiety. But at night, left alone with his subconscious, he would lose control, and the built-up panic would break free in the form of a ruthless nightmare.
The first thing Kaveh felt in this horrific dream was a sharp pain in his lower belly, catching his breath. He looked down in terror and froze: an ominous, dark stain of blood was spreading rapidly across the fabric of his sweatpants, soaking right through them. The architect frantically pressed his palms against his belly, trying somehow to stop it, but his fingers only slid helplessly over the sticky fabric. In the middle of the living room, for some reason, stood the carved wooden cradle he had designed before the pregnancy but hadn't managed to assemble yet. It looked exactly as he had envisioned it, but it was completely empty and cold. The fragile miracle they had tried so desperately to protect was simply gone. The omega tried to scream, to call out for Alhaitham, but his throat felt as if it were choked with sand, and only a helpless, raspy wheeze escaped his chest. The realization of his loss washed over him like an icy wave: he had failed, he had ruined everything, his own body had betrayed him.
Kaveh snapped his eyes open, gasping frantically for air as if he had just surfaced from immense depths. His heart was hammering in his ears like crazy, and his chest felt clamped in a vice. A heavy night silence reigned over the bedroom, but the gruesome imagery from his dream still lingered before his eyes. The blanket felt unbearably heavy, suffocating. With trembling, utterly ice-cold fingers, the young man instantly clawed at his own belly, bunching up the fabric of his nightshirt. His mind, poisoned by the terror he had just endured, refused to believe it had been nothing but a dream. Panic instantly blurred his vision with a veil of tears, and it felt as though if he moved even an inch, the nightmare would become reality.
At his ragged gasp and sharp movement, Alhaitham woke almost instantly. He could immediately feel how the air in the room had become saturated with the bitter, panicked scent of saffron. Without asking any needless questions, the alpha pulled his husband close, covering Kaveh's shuddering back with his broad palm.
"Kaveh, breathe. I'm here. You're home," his low, sleep-roughened, yet maddeningly reassuring voice cut through the night silence.
Alhaitham began to slowly release his pheromones, wrapping them both in a thick cloud. But Kaveh continued to shake violently. He pressed his palms against his husband's chest, trying to pull back—not to leave, but to look into his eyes and find some kind of salvation there. Hot, silent tears streamed down his hollow cheeks.
"Alhaitham..." the blonde whispered, his voice breaking into a helpless sob. "I had a dream... there was so much blood... I don't believe that everything will be alright. I feel like I've woken up, but this isn't real either. I feel like it's only a matter of time... My body... it won't handle this, will it? We're going to lose the baby. We're bound to lose them..."
The architect squeezed his eyes shut, burying his forehead into the other’s chest. The fear that their happiness was too fragile and only temporary completely paralyzed him, making him question reality itself. The Scribe didn't argue, offer banal comforts, or lecture him. Instead, he caught Kaveh's trembling, ice-cold hand with his own large, warm one. Gently but firmly, he pressed his husband's palm back against Kaveh's flat belly and covered it tightly with his own, sharing his living warmth.
"Listen to me," the alpha whispered right into Kaveh's ear, holding him tight so he could feel the strong, rapid beat of his heart. "Your body is handling this; do you hear me? Our baby is right here, with us. Feel my warmth, feel your own hand. This is reality, Kaveh. The dream is over, and we are here."
The omega frantically breathed in the familiar scent of green tea, clawing at Alhaitham's hand on his belly until his fingers ached. He listened to the alpha's strong heartbeat and warmed his icy fingers against his skin. Gradually, the suffocating terror of the nightmare began to melt away under the weight of this tangible, undeniable reality. They were together, they were home, and their long-awaited baby was still with them.
***
One day, Kaveh had to briefly return to the Akademiya to settle some lingering matters regarding an old drafting grant. The end of the first trimester was just around the corner, and he and Alhaitham had firmly decided to keep the news a secret for now. But hiding the truth within walls where every second person knew you proved to be a true ordeal.
In one of Kshahrewar's spacious corridors, someone called out Kaveh's name. A couple of his former colleagues from the darshan were fast approaching, wide smiles plastering their faces.
"Kaveh! What brings you here?" one of them exclaimed loudly, slapping the architect on the shoulder. "Welcome back from vacation! Listen, we were just heading to Lambad's Tavern. Want to come with? We'll order some Biryani, grab a few glasses of strong wine, and celebrate your return!"
At the mere mention of Biryani and alcohol, a suffocating lump of nausea instantly rose in Kaveh's throat. He went pale, instinctively taking a step back as panic fluttered in his chest. He needed to come up with something fast, but the intense anxiety made his thoughts muddle.
"I... Oh, thank you for the invitation, but I can't," the omega smiled awkwardly, his fingers frantically clutching the strap of his bag. "You see, I'm... I'm on a strict medical diet right now. And I have a sudden, very severe allergy to grapes! Yes, the doctor strictly forbade me from even looking at wine!"
The scholars exchanged glances, their eyebrows shooting up at such a ridiculous, convoluted excuse. Kaveh, who never turned down good company or wine, looked highly suspicious right now: a frantic flush covered his cheeks, and his breathing was ragged.
"An allergy? To grapes? Kaveh, are you alright?" one of the colleagues squinted with doubt, taking a step closer. "You smell a bit off... and you look jumpy. Maybe you're hiding something from us..."
"I'm not hiding anything!" the blonde panicked completely, feeling the ground slide out from under his feet.
"Kaveh," an ice-cold, calm voice ringing out from behind them made everyone flinch.
Alhaitham stepped unhurriedly around the corner of the corridor. As usual, his face revealed absolutely nothing, but his turquoise gaze immediately locked onto his husband’s trembling fingers. The Scribe of the Akademiya demonstratively held a hefty folder of documents in his hands.
"I’ve finally found you," the alpha said dryly, completely ignoring the other scholars as he stepped slightly in front of Kaveh, subtly shielding him with his shoulder from their persistent stares. "We need to urgently review the archival estimates for the restoration project. Lesser Lord Kusanali expects the report by evening. Come to my office. Right now."
The architect's colleagues fell silent instantly under the heavy gaze of the acting Scribe, not daring to argue with the Akademiya’s administration.
"Yes, yes, of course! Duty calls," Kaveh managed to get out hastily, trying his absolute hardest to make his voice sound natural. He gave his acquaintances a brief nod and followed his husband.
The moment the heavy door of Alhaitham’s private office closed behind them, cutting them off from the noisy corridor, Kaveh slid his back limply against it. He buried his face in his hands, exhaling loudly and raggedly. The panic was slowly receding.
Alhaitham walked silently to his desk, set the hefty folder down, and turned to his husband. Soft sunbeams broke through the closed window shutters, and the office itself smelled of old books, ink, and a faint, subtle scent of green tea. The alpha took a deep breath, intentionally saturating the air with his soothing pheromones to help the omega recover faster.
"Here," the Scribe said, handing him a glass of cool, clean water he always kept on his desk.
Kaveh pulled his hands away from his face. His fingers were still trembling slightly as he accepted the glass. After taking a few greedy gulps, the architect sank heavily onto the soft leather couch by the wall, resting his head back against the cushion with a groan.
"Archons, that was horrific..." he muttered, closing his eyes. "I thought they were going to figure it all out right then and there. At the mere mention of Biryani, my stomach churned so badly I nearly made a fool of myself right in the middle of the corridor. And that idiotic excuse about the grapes? What on earth was I thinking with an allergy? I was talking utter nonsense."
"Your improvisations have always suffered from excessive theatrics," Alhaitham huffed, sitting on the edge of the desk opposite the couch and crossing his arms over his chest. His analytical gaze carefully scanned his husband's pale face. "But they wouldn't have found out. Average scholars are far too consumed by their own projects to connect your sudden 'diet' with the fact that your scent has taken on milky notes and grown sweeter."
Kaveh snapped his eyes open and glared at the alpha, a frantic flush instantly burning his cheeks.
"So I already smell that noticeable?! Why did you keep quiet?!"
"Because to anyone but me, these changes are almost imperceptible right now, unless they stand right next to you. Besides, my scent on you is far stronger," the Scribe explained calmly. "But I did ask you not to come to the Akademiya alone. You are still struggling with exertion and stifling spaces."
"I needed to pick up those documents, Alhaitham! I can't hide at home forever like a frightened groundhog," Kaveh sulked, setting the empty glass onto the coffee table, though his grumbling had already lost its usual spark. In truth, he was immensely grateful to his husband for showing up at the exact right moment. "But... thank you. If you hadn't come, I would have definitely given myself away."
Alhaitham softened ever so slightly. He straightened up, walked over to the couch, and sat beside Kaveh, gently covering his trembling fingers with his palm.
"Rest," the alpha said softly. "I will collect the documents myself. You will stay here until my lunch break ends, and then we will return home together. No more independent strolls through Kshahrewar."
Kaveh merely let out a tired sigh and leaned his shoulder against Alhaitham. He had absolutely no strength left to prove his independence this time—in the quiet of this office, under his alpha's protection, it felt far too good.
***
The very day that marked the official end of their first trimester, according to their calculations, they decided to spend at home, just the two of them. This milestone felt like a true victory. Those three months had been the most dangerous and unstable, a time when the fragile pregnancy could have ended at any moment. The Scribe would never admit to anyone how much of a toll his husband's every morning indisposition had taken on his nerves, but today, this invisible battle for the life of their baby was officially won.
In the evening, a soft, cozy light illuminated the living room. A light dinner prepared by Alhaitham was cooling on the table—this time, Kaveh had been able to eat every single crumb without the slightest hint of nausea. The new powders from Bimarstan and the strict sleep schedule had worked a true miracle: the morning sickness and pre-fainting weakness had finally receded completely, leaving behind nothing but a pleasant, calm peace. The omega's strength was slowly returning, he was beginning to gain weight, and his skin had once again taken on a healthy, soft glow.
Kaveh sat on the couch, his legs curled comfortably beneath him. A warm mug of mint tea was cradled in his hands, but the blonde's gaze was fixed entirely on the carved jewelry box he had brought from the bedroom and placed on the table before him. Lifting the lid, the architect gently pulled out that very positive pregnancy test, the one that had started this entire crazy, difficult, and beautiful journey. Alhaitham sat down silently beside him, pulling his husband into a warm embrace. The omega relaxed back against his chest, feeling the room instantly fill with the familiar scent of green tea. The alpha softly lowered his broad palm onto Kaveh's belly, which was already beginning to take on a barely noticeable roundness.
"We made it," the blonde whispered softly, covering his husband's fingers with his own and smiling with pure, absolute happiness, without a single drop of fear. "The most dangerous period is behind us. Can you believe it?"
"I never doubted it," Alhaitham replied, pressing a tender kiss to the top of the omega's head. "Your stubbornness is enough to outargue even the laws of nature. But we still have two trimesters to go, so my notepad of rules is staying right where it is."
Kaveh merely let out a quiet, good-natured snort, simply basking in the moment. These grueling months had shattered his proud confidence, making him cry from sheer helplessness and hate his own weakness. But now, sitting in the secure arms of his alpha, the architect knew with absolute certainty that for the sake of their little treasure, he was ready to walk this path all the way to the very end.