#present kaidu

After all, he had a hard time procuring Steppe-sourced meat. Or, at least, he was shown and convinced that the packaged mutton tied to his belt was from the Steppes. Meat was meat, for all Kaidu really thought initially - but he was convinced that Steppe raised dzo, sheep, and horse were of a higher quality than anything he ever had in his many moons in Eorzea.

By the time he’d finish rationalizing thoughts about Eorzean produce battling against the Steppe’s, Kaidu was back at where he called home: Nhaama’s Haven.

Customarily, he’d let out his distinct yell alerting his fellow tribemates that he’d arrived home, but he didn’t really get any response today. He knew Kete was squirreled away in his room with an immense heat pouring forth from the crack under his door, as he’d discover that morn.

Ancestors know what’s going on in there. He smirked with that thought, “Burn the place down, my arse.”

“But where is everyone else?”

“Syf has her own place,” Kaidu began, walking downstairs to the kitchen. “I think she said she did, right?” Drawn immediately to the spice rack, he ran his long, calloused digits across the neatly labled, squinting and inspecting each with a cautionary sniff, plucking several out and exchanging bottles before he gave a satisfactory nod.

“That’s good enough.”

His tail swished aimlessly behind him as he turned to place all his gathered ingredients on the counter, ready to prepare his favorite, summer meal - grilled mutton chops.

“Jyaki.. doesn’t have a place. Does she still sleep on the couch?” Kaidu stopped his preparations in a moment of thought, not wishing to cut off a finger right in the middle of his meal prep. That would really suck. “Maybe she has a room.”

“Icarus. Nhaama help him.” The Xaelan man resumed his work, quieting himself.

Perhaps he became too focused. That usually happened when he would cook, but he always refused so as of late, as it steered thoughts towards home...

--

“<...Leave the fat on when you trim it,>” Algedai shadowed the smaller form of younger Kaidu, hand hovering whilst the boy neatly trimmed the fat from smaller, cubed pieces of mutton.

“<You’re cutting too much off! Just a little!>”

--

“Oh.” Kaidu was brought back into the present as he felt the knife’s edge flush against his finger, ready to carve down into the darkened flesh of his.

“Nhaama, help me..”

--

The day was drawing to a close, and Kaidu was now outside the estate, neatly tending an aromatic, smoking fire with an iron poker. His mutton was neatly skewered and dripping sizzling fat into the fanning flames, almost ready for consumption.

It wasn’t often he cooked, as it reminded him of his past, but when he did - he truly enjoyed the fruits of his creation. Too bad he didn’t have anyone to share his charred meat with.

Kaidu Kha spent the evening watching the stars and suckling the velvety marrow from bones, looking quite pleasant and relaxed for once.

“Useless!”

The basin was slammed aside with his yell, spilling water over the counter, the floor, and soaking fresh white shirt of his. His hands protested with stinging pain as he stood in the middle of his small kitchen, illuminated only by the moonlight that filtered in through the sole window in the room.

“What good is all this work if I don’t get better?”

The basin rolled to a stop and settled at his feet.

“<I bleed, Nhaama, and I am still not a warrior!>”

“<I bleed and I am still mocked!>”

Kaidu protested to the streams of moonlight before he’d pace across the room and pulled the curtain over the window.

--

Unbeknownst to his fellow tribemates, Kaidu sneaked out of the Haven not that long after, battling internally on if he should actually do this again.

Oh, he was definitely in the beast’s den, now.

“Blasted hells no. Nuh uh, I ain’t sellin’ to you again, nope. Fuck off.” Already, the grizzled Roe pushed off from his perch on the corner, and pushed away the approaching Kha with ease, enough to topple him. 

“I know fuckin’ strung out an’ green when I see ‘em. Not to mention, I ain’t touchin’ anythin’ with scales, got it?”

Kaidu’s gaze was troubled and narrowed at the disapproving peddler, recovering from his near fall from the shove, dusting away his front.

“I spent all night searching for you and this is what I get?”

“Yer fuckin’ right, kid. Last thing I want is to be skewered for sellin’ pipe dreams.”

“If it’s anything I’ve learned in my time here,” Kaidu hastily untied the heavy gil pouch on his belt, “is that money talks.”

“Ain’t gonna deny that, greenhorn, but I don’t speak that language with ya no more,” he spat, “I value my life an’ besides, I got others that talk more, and don’t destroy things. Now fuck off, I’ve said it kindly to ya once.”

The space between Kaidu and the Roegadyn drew to a close. Large hands gripped his shoulders, and before he knew it the small Xaelan was on his hind end on the cobbles as the peddler walked off, leaving him with the stirring cricket song of the night.

How was he supposed to quiet the beast that fed off of dreaming flowers?

How was he supposed to quiet the nightmares that tormented him daily?

For the first time in awhile, Kaidu cried by his lonesome. All for some fucking Somnus. Something he found to be.. Interesting in itself, especially when smoked from a pipe. All it took was that one time he had spent the night with Icarus after accidentally getting himself intoxicated by the drug while on a job, and he craved it when he felt low.

It is why he seldom left his room, why he spent long nights searching for someone to buy from.. Why he seemed quiet, more touchy with his emotions, fearful.

Oh, how he feared if someone should figure out.

--

Kaidu returned to the Haven not long afterwards, tiptoeing around the seemingly quiet estate back to his quarters, completely and utterly worried that someone would ask where the hells he’s been.