Archive of Our Own

Olruggio was furious.

Outside, rain fell in a slow, dreary drizzle, weaving its whisper into the familiar silence of the room. He stretched irritably, adding the crack of his joints to the general melody. Hell, he really ought to change his workspace - working on the floor would end badly for him. For a moment he wondered whether he should buy a chair. Make one. He could ask Qifrey to lend his - he had never once seen the witch actually use it.

He leaned back over the rune, trying to concentrate on his work. Right - he was furious. Very furious with Qifrey.

And he felt he had every right to be, after the business with the girl.

"Of course, who am I to be consulted! Let's just drag another child into the house!" - the quiet muttering was accompanied by the angry scratch of a pen mangling yet another incorrect sigil. Olruggio had never liked working in a bad mood - magic, after all, was born from love, not from anger. But he needed something to occupy himself with right now, to keep from walking out there and arguing with Qifrey in front of the children. He pictured the thin tracks of tears on Tetia's face, Richeh nervously peering from behind Agott's back - the way they always did when they accidentally witnessed a quarrel.

But he did have the right to be angry. After all, he was no apprentice - he was a Watchful Eye, a fully-fledged witch who had a say in such matters. Not that he had ever objected to taking on students before, but an uninitiated girl with ties to forbidden magic? What on earth had Qifrey been thinking?

Olruggio set down the pen with a sigh and looked at the rune he had produced. It wasn't crooked - but some of the lines had come out sharper than he would have liked. Well, there was no time to redo it. When he tried to stand his numb legs refused to cooperate at first, and he staggered, forced to lean against the wall - and then nearly lost his footing again in the clutter.

The room was still in slight disarray after the girl had walked in without permission - Olruggio hadn't had time to sort it out yet. He carefully tried to nudge the mess aside with his foot, but the pile of things trembled ominously, threatening to topple. With a heavy sigh he abandoned the attempt and, scratching the back of his head, made his way toward the door. He would deal with it later, once he had stopped being angry.

Not at the poor child, obviously. He was glad, in fact, that Qifrey hadn't left her to fend for herself - even if his motives were entirely his own. The hallway on the way to the kitchen was dark, but he decided not to draw attention to himself and left the lamp unlit. Sometimes in the evenings, when everyone had gone to sleep, he walked the hallway a few times to check that everything was in order. But that wasn't what he had in mind right now - right now he simply needed to... clear his head. Perhaps something hot to drink - yes, that was what he would do.

Olruggio threw open the kitchen door. There was nothing to be cautious about - he personally made sure all the hinges were oiled and moved without a sound. He might have left the cabinet doors slightly creaky so the girls couldn't steal cookies without him knowing, and he might have deliberately overlooked the latches on the high windows so the children wouldn't try to sneak out of the atelier at night... but that was simply human error, wasn't it? Nobody was perfect.

Qifrey was asleep with his head resting on the kitchen table. He looked tired - more tired than he usually allowed himself to look. Around him, ingredients for cooking were piled in uneven rows and precarious stacks. A light breeze drifting through the half-open window swayed the small lantern standing beside the sleeping man. Several unfinished runes were scattered across the floor - Olruggio sighed quietly and bent down to collect them. Thank goodness Qifrey had fallen asleep before lighting the stove; he had never been careful with fire.

Moving as quietly as he could, Olruggio picked up the bowls and, tracing a small sign, made them settle silently onto the shelf. He knew Qifrey tried to avoid using too much magic in the kitchen, preferring to do things by hand - but, well, he was still a little angry with him. Besides, Qifrey would never know, would he? They didn't talk about such things. About spare gloves, about folded laundry, about clothes dried after the rain, about new bells on the door.

Qifrey stirred restlessly in his sleep, shifting to a more comfortable position in the crook of his arms. Olruggio leaned in closer, studying the features of the face not hidden beneath a thick sweep of hair. The witch looked troubled and peaceful at once. When did Qifrey look any other way? Olruggio couldn't quite suppress a soft smile. He was glad no one could see him right now. Foolish man, dragging children into the house and unable to get through even the smallest disagreement without staying up through the night alone in the kitchen. Everything about Qifrey was so impossibly contradictory and ridiculous - even now, in the dim light of the hand lantern. Olruggio wanted simply to... reach out to him, probably, even if it would shatter the impossible quiet around them. To touch him, to take that sharp-featured face in his hands, to run his fingertips soothingly down his spine and offer the kind of comfort Qifrey would never ask for.

The man stirred again, but Olruggio didn't step back - he knew Qifrey wouldn't wake if he had already gone under right here at the kitchen table. Most likely he had spent a long time walking anxiously from room to room, checking on the girls several times over, and then stood thinking at the window. Perhaps it would be worth lifting him up (to hell with the back pain) and carrying him to bed, so Qifrey could finally get proper rest. But then there was the chance that Olruggio wouldn't walk steadily enough, and the other witch would open his eyes and try in bewilderment to get to his feet, and then they would spend several days awkwardly avoiding each other, neither of them willing to speak about something as deliberate as this. And even if there was another chance - the one where Qifrey pressed closer and something warm and tender fluttered in Olruggio's chest, the one where he fell asleep beside the fair-haired man's bed and heard his laughter in the morning - well, even if that chance existed, Olruggio wasn't ready to take it.

His fingers trembled slightly when he reached out and smoothed Qifrey's hair - just enough to be sure the second eye was covered. He watched and watched, watched so long it became unbearable, and impossible things began to seem criminally possible. He made himself pull his hand back - though he couldn't quite deny himself the selfish pleasure of lingering a moment longer among the strands.

"Foolish witch," he murmured, pulling a small blanket from the shelf and draping it over the sleeping man's shoulders. He hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room, then sank to one knee and quickly inscribed a warming rune on the inside of the fabric. Otherwise Qifrey might catch cold - and he had no desire to deal with a sick witch, that was all. Even if he was still a little angry with him.

With a quiet exhale, Olruggio rose to his feet and reached for the lantern, extinguishing it with one gentle gesture. He turned, cast a last look at the suddenly-quiet room, and carefully pulled the door shut behind him. The hallway hadn't changed much since he'd arrived - only now he realized he had forgotten to make himself tea. Well, it wasn't as if he was going back in there.

A soft rustling sound interrupted his thoughts - it came from the direction of the staircase leading to the living quarters. Instantly on guard, Olruggio reached inside his robe, trying to quietly get to his pen.

"Who's there?" - the worry slipping into his whisper was plain even to himself.

A muffled squeak came from around the corner, and a tiny brushbug skittered to his feet. The sudden movement startled him enough that he nearly dropped the lantern.

"Oh. It's you again," - Olruggio tried to mask his relief with irritation - "shouldn't you be with your mistress?"

The girl Qifrey had brought home. Coco. He reached down automatically, picking up the brushbug fussing around his feet. It spun in place for a moment, but caught the lingering scent of ink dried on the witch's fingers and settled. Its tiny face darted toward the kitchen, and Olruggio, frowning, flicked it on the nose.

"No. Let him rest."

He considered for a moment whether he ought to bring the troublesome creature back to the girl, but paused, then simply headed toward his own room. He should get an order ready to send out... and perhaps make some extra-warm blankets. Just in case, so no one came down with a cold.

"Master Qifrey has been gone quite a while," - Coco's voice, floating from where she lay stretched by the fireplace, sounded uneasy. The other girls turned to look at her at once. Even Agott, who had been concentrating hard on holding up a large mirror, frowned slightly. She cast a brief glance at the witch seated nearby before gripping the metal frame even tighter. Olruggio looked up to find three pairs of eyes fixed on him.

"What, why are you all looking at me? He's perfectly entitled to go wherever he likes," - Olruggio muttered irritably, adjusting his side of the mirror. The work was nearly done and he really couldn't delay this order another day, even if Qifrey had left the girls in his care - "Agott, don't lose focus."

"Yes, Master Olly - I mean, Watchful Eye," - the girl straightened, a faint dusting of red rising to her cheeks.

"Mind you don't look into the mirror, or you'll be trapped in there forever," - he warned with perhaps slightly excessive gravity, returning to his drawing. Agott swallowed audibly and drew back from the enchanted thing by a fraction. She wouldn't actually be trapped, of course - and Olruggio sincerely hoped she was smart enough to know that. Not trapped, but she would ruin a one-time-use artifact. The mirror was meant to capture a moment permanently, preserving the likeness of whoever looked into it. A trivial little thing.

"Ooh, that sounds terrifying..." - Richeh's voice carried a note of genuine interest, which was rare. Olruggio suppressed a smile - he had offered the girl a chance to help him, but she was busy refining her own magic. Coco was too excitable, and Tetia, well...

"Can I have a look?" - the keyed-up girl tried to peer over the witch's shoulder and he had to raise the artifact high, shielding it with his cloak.

"No, you may go back to your work and learn to draw fire runes properly," - he said, more sharply than he intended, trying to keep the mirror away from Tetia while not turning it toward Coco. Good grief, working alone would be so much simpler. He kept the stern expression right up until he noticed the bright curiosity burning in Agott's gaze and Richeh, who had drifted closer and was still pretending to play with the brushbug. Honestly, how was anyone supposed to stay annoyed with these children?

Despite his comment, Coco set her pen aside a few moments later and climbed up onto the windowsill, watching the drops trail down the glass. That was calming. One fewer child to keep track of.

Olruggio drew the final lines, watching Agott mirror his movements on the other side, glancing anxiously at the adjacent sigils every so often. He was nervous about getting something wrong himself - he had never liked single-use things. It was far better to make something permanent and lasting, something not so easily broken or ruined.

Who on earth needed a mirror that preserved a likeness?

He thought he might like a portrait of Qifrey. Not a painted picture, but a living image, a caught moment - the witch pausing to watch bread rise, or bent carefully over a student's tiny errors in a rune. Eyes moving, a faint smile flickering in the one visible eye.

Olruggio shook his head. What did he want with that? Ridiculous. He could walk out of this room any time and find Qifrey himself.

Well, not right now. In general. Any other day.

"What if something has happened to him?" - Coco's anxious voice broke the comfortable quiet again. Olruggio sighed but looked up - this time the girl's voice was smaller.

He probably ought to reassure her - say that nothing would happen to Qifrey, or something to that effect. Which would, of course, be untrue. Something was always happening to him. If his grip on the pen tightened more than necessary, no one noticed.

"He's strong, Coco!" - Tetia came over and settled beside her friend on the sill, both of them peering out at the downpour - "Just think how happy he'll be when he finds out you learned a new rune!"

The girls looked back at Olruggio, as if waiting for him to confirm this. He exhaled slowly, working out the best thing to say.

"Don't distract Master Olruggio," - Agott's firm voice cut through the thought forming in his mind, and he snapped his mouth shut, watching as the girls reluctantly returned to what they had been doing. The quiet, however, had the opposite effect on him. The new thought kept circling as he put the finishing touches to the rune. Yes, Qifrey was a powerful witch who could look after himself - but hadn't he gotten into trouble more than once before?

The unease grew more insistent, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm against the frame. Something really could have happened, couldn't it? After all, even if water was Qifrey's element, he had never liked the rain.

Agott gave a soft cough beside him, signaling she was done, and Olruggio drew a sharp breath and pressed his palms to the floor to push himself upright.

"That's all, Agott, thank you," - he stretched and ruffled the girl's hair. She scowled at him and smoothed it back down, though her eyes were full of quiet satisfaction. Richeh appeared from nowhere and held out a neatly folded piece of cloth, and at his questioning look simply shrugged.

"So no one gets stuck in there forever."

Her tone was so serious that it was impossible to tell whether she was joking. Olruggio only gave an approving hum and began wrapping the cloth around the mirror, making sure not to miss a single centimeter of the surface. Qifrey hadn't gone far - he was supposed to be in the next village. If Olruggio adjusted the route to the client slightly, he could easily stop there on the way. Briefly - Qifrey wouldn't even have to know he had changed course for his sake. He would just... check in.

He got to his feet and, pulling his hat down over his head, moved toward the door. Tetia immediately sprang up and followed.

"I need to deliver this order. Don't go anywhere," - Olruggio tucked the parcel under his arm and wagged a finger at the small cluster of young witches.

"Who'd want to go anywhere in this rain," - Richeh muttered, though the forlorn looks on the other girls' faces proved the warning wasn't unnecessary. Tetia, nearest of all, grabbed the hem of his cloak and looked up at him.

"Can't you bring it later? Can the mirror stay just a little longer?"

"Can I come with you?" - Coco came running over, eyes bright.

"No, I can't. No, you can't. Don't go into my room! Or Qifrey's! Just - Agott, keep an eye on them."

The girl tossed her hair back proudly, and to a chorus of loud, aggrieved protests he pulled open the door, letting in a rush of cold, damp air. The girls squeaked and scrambled backward in surprise, and the witch tightened his grip on the protective rune in his hand and stepped forward.

"Behave yourselves!" - he told them one last time, watching the children push the door shut behind him. He took a few steps across the wet grass, still catching the quiet arguments from inside. Unable to hold back a small smile, he rubbed his temples, sighed, and folded his legs beneath him, letting himself rise into the air. He preferred to travel on foot, but he really did need to find Qifrey before dark. And deliver the order, naturally.

Olruggio realized he had misjudged the distances only when he reached the village. The last faint light filtering through the clouds had vanished entirely. In its place was a deep, unpleasant darkness, unbroken even by moonlight - the moon was buried behind thick cloud. The rain hadn't let up, which made everything worse.

Damn it all - Qifrey had mentioned this village, but there was nothing remotely resembling a witch anywhere in sight. The unease prickled under his skin, pushing Olruggio to walk faster and faster, scanning the street on all sides. A witch should be visible from a distance - of all people, Qifrey would certainly not be standing out in the rain getting soaked.

He descended and, straightening his cloak, knocked at the nearest door with a light burning in the window. Olruggio genuinely hoped he wasn't disturbing them too much. The worry was eating him alive, making him glance around and pull at his sleeves.

"Have you seen a witch, miss?" - a wary woman peered out from behind the door. A boy clung to the hem of her skirt, and behind her, two older children sat by the warmth of a hearth in the parlor. Olruggio found himself thinking of the girls and wondering whether they had slipped away somewhere - and with the thought came a fresh wave of anxiety. He couldn't manage two things at once like this.

"Oh, sir, it's so late already..." - the woman's voice was respectful, but surprised.

"I'm quite all right, don't worry about me. The other witch - white hair, funny glasses, about my height."

"Oh, yes... he came through a few hours ago, checking on the bridge..." - the woman frowned apologetically - "but that was the last we saw of him. Are you sure you won't stay the night?"

Olruggio smiled politely and shook his head. His eyes swept one last time over the warm domestic scene as he pulled the door shut and turned sharply, heading for the bridge. The girls were fine - one thing at a time. Right now he would find Qifrey, send him home to spin tales for the girls about where he had been all day, or bake some peculiar tart.

He walked quickly through the empty lanes, cursing every wizard and deity responsible for the night, the rain, and the nervous ache in his chest that wouldn't leave him in peace. The grass grew taller with each step and he gave up on keeping his hem dry.

His gaze snagged anxiously on every shape that stood out against the flat expanse around him. A tree, then another - the bridge was visible in the distance, lit by small lanterns. And since the bridge appeared intact, that meant... near the bridge, under a low tree, a bubble of magic shimmered, keeping off the rain.

"Qifrey!" - the parcel nearly slipped from his hands as he broke into a run toward the figure standing beneath the tree.

The witch turned in surprise, something briefly flashing across his face - something startled and... distantly sharp. Olruggio ignored it, as he ignored many of Qifrey's peculiarities. He stopped short, looking the man up and down. Qifrey looked exactly as he always did. Impeccable. Even in a downpour, his hair stuck out in every direction and the long hem of his robe fell in perfect folds. In the soft glow of lights from nearby houses, one hand resting against a tall tree, surrounded by driving rain that did not dare touch him - yes, he was impeccable in precisely that way. Something tightened in Olruggio's chest - not from worry this time - and all he could do was hope his face didn't reflect what he was thinking too clearly.

The odd expression vanished from Qifrey's face at once, replaced with a tilt of the head and unconcealed curiosity.

"Olly? I was only held up a few minutes..."

"A few hours," - Olruggio muttered, closing the distance between them. His hand came to rest on the other man's shoulder - Qifrey didn't react to the gesture at all. He exhaled quietly - at least the other witch wasn't injured or badly exhausted, or he would have responded to the touch somehow.

"Were you looking for me? Did something happen to the girls?" - Qifrey's eyes lit with quick worry.

"No, I happened to be passing through. I have an order to deliver," - Olruggio hoped he sounded convincing, adjusting the parcel in his arms. Only now did it occur to him how foolish he must look, standing here - out of breath and frightened, trying to hold his expression steady.

Qifrey smiled softly and stepped away from the tree, moving closer.

"Is that the piece you were working on earlier? You finished it?"

Olruggio only shrugged. This part of the conversation was beginning to feel awkward - awkward because Qifrey didn't like talking about his complicated feelings toward rain, and Olruggio didn't like talking about the fact that he knew about those feelings. That he watched the man more closely on particularly wet days. Instead he gripped the box more firmly and looked up at the sky. For a moment he thought he could see stars through a gap in the clouds - but, well, he could be imagining it.

Qifrey gently stepped together and rose into the air, hovering there, looking up at Olruggio from below with his soft smile and kind eye.

"Come on, what are you waiting for? Or do you think they'll pay you for a late delivery?" - with that, Qifrey shot upward, and the wash of air ruffled Olruggio's hair, sending him grabbing for his hat. Even now he looked impossibly gentle - so unbearably gentle that it took everything Olruggio had not to do something stupid. Like shouting at the top of his lungs that he loved him. Or that he would give his life for him gladly, for all his secrets and hidden things.

"Hey, you don't even know where I need to go!" - he called irritably after the retreating figure before activating his own rune and rising to follow.

Qifrey laughed - and for that laugh, Olruggio would forgive him any strangeness.

"I think this is absurd."

"Well, so do I, but they pay well for the absurdity."

They sat on the floor in Olruggio's room - because, late as it was, the girls wouldn't venture in even if they woke. Qifrey was leaning back slightly, gazing at the cone-shaped object laid out before him with an expression of mild contemplation. Olruggio tapped a fingernail thoughtfully against one of the glass ornaments hanging from the frame.

"Why would anyone need a chandelier that glows different colors?" - the question was rhetorical, so he didn't wait for an answer and leaned back too, staring at the ceiling. Originally Qifrey had come to help finish the project, though honestly Olruggio could have managed on his own. The work was more tedious than complicated, and now, with a dozen or so of the prismatic pendants already attached to the base, he would have been thoroughly bored without Qifrey beside him. The man contributed little in practical terms - attaching the pieces together was tricky, especially when their hands brushed against each other by accident and Olruggio jerked away, trying to hide an uninvited flush of color.

"Not everyone is a witch - perhaps they simply want something magical in their lives," - Qifrey's words came out softer than usual. He was absently stroking the brushbug curled in his lap. He looked... well, he looked like magic itself. Olruggio quickly glanced away, trying not to dwell on the thought longer than necessary.

"You're talking about Coco again, aren't you?" - Olruggio narrowed his eyes. He knew Qifrey wasn't talking only about that - but this wasn't the time or place for those other questions. The topic of Coco was at least relatively safe ground, among all the unsafe ones. It didn't touch on covered eyes and strange habits of slipping away from the atelier in the dead of night.

Qifrey answered with a narrowed look of his own - then leaned closer, his shoulder almost grazing Olruggio's, though his face was still tilted toward the ceiling. The brushbug scrambled up onto his shoulders and curled into a makeshift collar around his neck. There was something particularly disarming about seeing Qifrey like this - without his robe, in ordinary clothes.

It wasn't hard to fall in love with him, here and now, under the mantle of deepening night. Though - Olruggio thought, bending to fix another pendant in place - it had never been hard to fall in love with Qifrey.

"I know you're still angry with me, but I don't want it to make you cold toward Coco."

Olruggio said nothing. He ran his fingers over the tiny prisms, making them chime softly. That was honest - impossibly honest, even for Qifrey. And foolish, impossibly foolish. He had been angry at first, perhaps - but how was he supposed to stay angry at this impossible man for long?

He knew the matter went beyond Coco, beyond magic belonging to all the world. He could ask him right now - why does this matter so much to you? Why are you so determined to see it through? But then Qifrey would think he was still angry, and he would stop sitting so close and speaking so softly.

"She's so like you - how could I dislike her," - Olruggio's words were quiet, barely rising to a murmur. Without question, the other witch heard them.

Qifrey's expression softened, something very gentle flickering in his eye. Unable to bear the sight of it, Olruggio bent lower over his work, knowing the witch would say nothing in return. It was an intricate dance, and right now they were barely, barely stepping out of its bounds.

They sat in silence while Olruggio finished another small prism. He could hear the rustle of the witch settling beside him, the soft chirp of the brushbug, the quiet, barely-there humming of an old tune. He knew Qifrey needed this - simply to be near someone. It was woven into the very fabric of who he was, no matter how often he tried to escape it. Everyone had their reasons for running, but Olruggio had decided he would not let him run alone.

He raised his eyes slowly from the chandelier and found Qifrey still watching him. The man's full, undivided attention focused entirely on Olruggio. He became suddenly aware of how close he could almost feel the other man's breath against his cheek.

Qifrey was too close for Olruggio to form a coherent thought. Or think at all. The scent coming off him was intoxicating - white jasmine carrying an undercurrent of ink, hair framing his face and curling softly at the edges, a dimple at the corner of his smile. His head tilted a fraction, as if drawn toward Olruggio's shoulder, a ghost of contact that fell just short of being real. All of it gathered into something achingly beautiful somewhere deep in Olruggio's chest, knocking him off balance and robbing him of every word.

Part of him wanted to do something different. Part of him wanted to say something tender, to trace a finger along the other man's cheek, to draw his head into his lap and breathe in that scent. But he had no experience whatsoever with gentle words, and he couldn't pull himself together when Qifrey sat this close and this impossibly far away at the same time.

"Why aren't you still angry?"

And so Olruggio had to think, had to drag the words out of his head, because however much he might want to, he couldn't tell the truth.

"I trust you."

It was a cowardly answer, but Qifrey received it with a smile.

Olruggio felt something like a hundred tiny fireworks go off inside him, so he dropped his gaze back to his work as quickly as he could.

"I trust you too, Olly."

Maybe that answer was cowardly as well. But Olruggio accepted it.

"I didn't want to come here."

Olruggio's loud displeasure was swallowed by the noise of the crowd. He exhaled heavily, not even trying to hide the scowl on his face.

Richeh, perched on Olruggio's shoulders, opened one eye and dropped her chin onto the top of his head. He sighed again, lowering his voice slightly.

"This is just ridiculous. You could have come here alone."

Qifrey, who had just been crouching to fix the hem of Tetia's robe, straightened up and brushed off imaginary dust.

"Of course I could. But the girls need to get out of the house now and then, don't they, Coco?"

Coco was the worst possible person to ask for confirmation. She said nothing, gazing around with shining eyes. Fortunately it was a regular weekday and the crowd wasn't dense enough to sweep the overexcited young witch away anywhere. Agott had her by the hand, scanning their surroundings with focused attention. Olruggio was confident Coco would be fine. Qifrey, on the other hand...

Qifrey, mischievous smile and half-closed eye, was standing very close. Olruggio made a face and rolled his eyes, trying to step away without being obvious about it. He couldn't think straight about anything serious when that man was this near.

"You know I'm not too fond of Kalhn," - Olruggio muttered, straightening his cloak. To hell with large cities where you had to mind your appearance every moment.

"So do I!" - Qifrey continued to smile brightly, as though he were not the cause of all this upheaval. He was still standing almost indecently close, making Olruggio flush with irritation. Richeh, seated on his shoulders, suddenly threw herself backward and dropped. He spun around sharply, ready to catch her, but she landed lightly on her feet, heels touching. Olruggio let out a strangled breath, turning back to Qifrey.

"The girls are with you. I need to pick up the steel plates for the next order," - his tone left no room for compromise. Qifrey nodded, humming something indistinct under his breath, and was already making to slip away when Olruggio's hand caught his forearm.

"Be... careful," - he managed. Qifrey's expression softened, and he nodded in quiet thanks, squeezing the other man's hand before stepping quickly away to catch up with the girls fast disappearing around the corner. Olruggio watched until the small group vanished from sight, then turned in the direction of the shop he needed. The brushbug, settled comfortably on his shoulder, sneezed at the sudden movement but held on.

Someone tugged gently at his sleeve, and he looked down to find Tetia peering up at him with a broad smile. She was pointing off to the right.

"Can we swing by the fountains on the way?"

"Don't you want to go with the others?" - Olruggio asked, puzzled. He had thought Tetia had gone off with Richeh - both girls were inspired by composition magic; he assumed they had plans to hunt down ingredients for some shared project.

"I do! But Agott promised Coco she'd show her the big mosaic on the main square, and I've seen it about a hundred times! Richeh's disappeared somewhere, and Qifrey will definitely end up in that dull shop to pick up the order... The queues there are always so long," - the last part came out as something close to desperation. Olruggio couldn't blame her - he avoided long queues himself, always sourcing things from out-of-the-way little shops.

"Of course," - he said, and began walking slowly enough that the girl could keep up. Tetia gave a happy little jump and hurried alongside him.

They didn't get very far, as it turned out. They stopped at several shops along the way - the brushbug acquired a snug new cap, and the smile on Tetia's face grew even brighter. Olruggio was mentally mapping out less crowded streets for the rest of the route when his gaze snagged on a familiar figure hurrying toward them.

"Agott?" - he knew the girl wouldn't simply run off for no reason, which meant something had definitely happened. Olruggio went tense at once, quickening his step.

"Agott!!" - Tetia's voice was happier, but as soon as the girl reached them the pink-haired witch's face fell - "where's Coco?"

Or Qifrey. Olruggio scanned their surroundings for the missing figures, but there was no sign of them. Oh hell, something really had gone wrong.

"Where is Master Qifrey?"

"He's arguing with someone," - Agott said, looking troubled.

"Arguing?"

The very idea struck Olruggio as... surprising. He rarely saw Qifrey argue with anyone. It took a genuine effort to work him up that far - pressing something particularly painful, cutting off every route of retreat...

"Coco," - Olruggio breathed. Agott nodded gravely and tilted her head in the direction she had come from.

"I tried to get between them, but they wouldn't listen."

Olruggio exhaled.

A few turns brought them to one of the city's main squares. It was far more crowded than the side streets near the edge of town - they say Kalhn is never quiet, and this square proved it. Olruggio scanned the space carefully, quickly picking out a familiar hat-tip in the crowd. He took Agott's hand firmly, felt Tetia grab the end of his cloak, and began cutting steadily through the crowd, easing people aside. The girls could probably manage on their own, but in situations like this it was better to be twice as careful.

Especially after what had happened with Coco in... well, at any number of points, really.

"What's going on here?" - Olruggio called out to a small knot of Pointed Cap witches standing against a wall. Several familiar robes were visible among them. His gaze moved to Coco, who had her head lowered, nervously twisting the hem of her clothes.

"What's it to you?" - a woman beside Qifrey shot back sharply. At her feet stood a boy with downcast eyes, wearing an apprentice's robe. Ah. The picture of the quarrel was slowly, steadily becoming clear. Olruggio glanced at Qifrey - the witch raised his eyebrows and nodded in turn toward the girls, then toward Olruggio himself.

"Agott said you were arguing with someone."

"Nobody is arguing with anyone, everything is fine!" - Qifrey raised his hands in a placating gesture, trying to subtly step between Olruggio and the tight-lipped woman.

"You called her an incompetent idiot, I think that qualifies as an argument," - a familiar cheerful voice made Olruggio wince.

Hieheart, peering out from behind Qifrey's shoulder, gave him a wave. He wore an expression of keen interest, gaze flicking between Olruggio and Qifrey and back. Good grief, of all people to run into here. Qifrey smiled again - his smile looked strained and brittle, like he was one step from the edge. Wonderful.

"Hieheart, I never imagined I would say this, but can you explain what's happening?"

"Right away, sir! I was buying apples - did you know the stall on that corner has wonderful apples? I was about to pay when I heard shouting from the left, and when I went to look Coco was sitting on the ground trying not to cry, and..."

"I wasn't crying!" - came a small, indignant squeak.

"You're a Watchful Eye, aren't you? Sort out this child," - the woman's angry voice cut across Hieheart's account at the same moment - "this incompetent creature disrupted my apprentice's performance. I gave him a straightforward assignment - refining illusion magic - and this foolish child blundered straight into it in the middle of..."

"That's not what happened," - Qifrey interrupted, stepping forward. Irritation was plain on his face - "your apprentice pushed Coco first."

"Both of you, stop and let me hear the rest," - Olruggio said sharply, looking from the woman to Qifrey and back.

"How dare you!"

The woman, to Olruggio's surprise, moved not toward him but toward Qifrey, and her finger jabbed him in the chest, forcing him back a step.

"You, irresponsible teacher, abandoning children in a public square on their own! Do you have any idea how much preparation goes into a spell like this? Of course you don't!"

Qifrey drew in a sharp breath to respond, but the woman had already stepped back, giving him no opening. Hieheart, in the corner, crunched cheerfully into an apple, clearly enjoying every moment of this. Qifrey's smile had gone rigid and unnatural.

"And you!" - she rounded on Olruggio, finger swinging toward him - "of course, I should have known you'd take your witch's side!"

"These are children," - Olruggio said flatly, ignoring the warmth rising in his chest at the phrase 'your witch.' To hell with it - yes, that was his witch, and he was on his side - "if your apprentice can't control his own spells, that is his failure and yours. Practicing on the main square in the middle of the day? If you want a quarrel, you'll have to look elsewhere. Next time, pay better attention to the mistakes your apprentice is making in his runes. It's disgraceful - to find a child in distress and come down on her for it, then have the gall to work her teacher into a fury on top of that. So enough of this - apologize to Coco, and to my... er... to her teacher."

The woman went still, blinking slowly. Olruggio turned his head toward the children, trying to hide the color rising in his face. Damn it all, of course he had to fumble over his words - and in front of everyone. He could only hope the woman wouldn't notice... if she did, the situation would become genuinely awkward. From where Qifrey stood came the bright sound of Hieheart's laughter, but Olruggio didn't dare look in that direction. What if it wasn't the woman who caught it, but Qifrey?

"How dare you..."

"Master," - a quiet voice interrupted her. The boy standing beside her adjusted his hat and turned to face Coco - "I'm sorry. I lost my temper. The spell was difficult and..."

"What do you think you're doing?" - his teacher asked in astonishment. Olruggio cut a quick glance at Qifrey - the expression on the other man's face had shifted to one of quiet approval.

"Apologizing. As the Watchful Eye said."

Under the watching eyes, the boy walked uncertainly toward Qifrey and, bowing his head low, mumbled through a rapid apology. It was obvious he found the whole thing deeply uncomfortable. Olruggio had to suppress a laugh as the still-scowling woman hauled the boy away into the crowd.

He watched until they disappeared and turned back to the group. Of course - not one trip out of the house could go smoothly. And he still hadn't even collected the steel plates. He observed Tetia whispering something eagerly to Richeh before his attention was caught by a quiet movement nearby. Qifrey, having come closer, crouched down carefully before Coco, looking her over. His movements were gentle, almost tentative. Right - the poor girl. Hieheart had said something about tears. Olruggio leaned in too, trying to make a quick, reassuring check.

"Are you all right? You fell - are you hurt?" - Qifrey's voice was tight with worry.

"Agott gave me her handkerchief," - the girl nodded seriously toward her leg, which was bound with a small scrap of fabric. Olruggio frowned - it didn't look like a thorough remedy, and the girl hadn't actually answered whether she was in pain. But there was no blood on the cloth.

"You shouldn't have done that for my sake, Master," - Coco's voice was very small, her gaze fixed on the ground. She was scuffing one shoe against the other - every part of her radiating remorse. Something twisted in Olruggio's chest. She was so small in this enormous unfamiliar city - and he hadn't watched out for her. Or for Qifrey, for that matter. It was becoming an unwelcome habit.

"Coco, you-" - Olruggio began, but a steadier voice from the other witch cut him off as Qifrey rested a hand on the girl's head.

"I told you - as your teacher, I will never let anyone hurt you," - his voice was thoughtful and serious, but the gentleness hadn't left it entirely. Coco gave a weak smile, her eyes beginning to shine.

"Besides, it's not true!" - Tetia cried out happily, running over and throwing her arms around teacher and student alike, pulling them into an embrace. Qifrey gave a quiet, startled sound but leaned in to meet her with a smile.

"Agott, come here!" - Coco, smile growing brighter by the second, pulled the dark-haired witch into the circle too. Agott gave a startled yelp before settling and pressing her cheek against the others.

They looked peaceful. They looked the way Olruggio had always imagined a family might look. He couldn't pull his eyes away from it - from the gleam in the children's eyes, the tangle of blue robes, the smile on Qifrey's face. From the way the sun caught in the fair hair and made the man himself seem to glow. And more than anything in the world, Olruggio was afraid to break this spell - to come too close and push too hard. So he stayed where he was.

Then something yanked at the hem of his cloak hard enough to nearly knock him off his feet. Richeh, who had materialized from nowhere, did not look even slightly contrite - on the contrary, she pulled him firmly toward the group.

"Hey, Richeh!"

"Richeh!!" - Tetia's delighted voice drowned out Olruggio's protest - and suddenly he was drawn into the warm, laughing knot of them. Several small hands pulled him closer, and he had to fight to keep his balance even on his knees.

He looked up and met Qifrey's gentle smile, the man half-buried in children. One hand came to rest on his shoulder and gave a quiet, barely-there squeeze. Like the return of a promise made in silence. An unspoken thank you. And Olruggio couldn't hold himself back.

"All right, come here, you selfless idiot," - before Qifrey could find any words, Olruggio pulled him close. The witch only laughed in answer, and the laughter vanished into the children's chatter.

He held him tighter, hoping it would go unnoticed in all the jostling. Qifrey's quiet laugh seemed to sound right beneath his ear. Olruggio dipped his head, his cheek coming to rest against Tetia's lopsided hat, and thought that this was what people meant by happiness.

"Wait, is this a group hug? I want in!"

"Hieheart, absolutely not, go away!"

"Yes, Master, come join, group hug!"

Laughter rang out above the narrow street.

The hospital smelled of herbs, clean linen, and blood. The smell of blood was bad enough on its own - in these circumstances, knowing it was Qifrey's blood, it was twice as bad.

Olruggio dropped his head onto his folded arms and pressed his knuckles against his eyes. Beside the bed a healer moved about, unwinding a fresh length of bandage. He paid little attention to Olruggio, which was understandable - the man's face wore an expression of infinite weariness. Probably he was supposed to be home by now, having a late supper with his family.

The thoughts in Olruggio's head crowded the narrow corridors and kept turning the wrong way. How had it come to this? How had he allowed it to come to this - it was his responsibility to look after not only the girls but their teacher as well. At least the children were safe - he suspected they weren't asleep yet, but they were alive. Qifrey, on the other hand...

"You can go," - a quiet, tired voice from the right made the witch flinch and look up. The healer set aside the neatly coiled bandages and nodded toward the still form of Qifrey.

"No, I'll stay," - Olruggio answered, suppressing a yawn. The man gave him a skeptical look as though he intended to say something. The next moment his gaze dropped to the glasses that Olruggio held carefully in both hands. Qifrey's glasses - one dark lens, a worn frame, a corner slightly chipped. Olruggio ran a thumb over the chip, his thoughts drifting. When they got home, the glasses would need to be repaired. He would take care of that himself - it would be good to start right now, so they would be ready for when Qifrey woke. But there were no tools here, and Olruggio was overtaken by an irrational feeling that if he so much as turned away, Qifrey would slip off somewhere, leaving him with no answers and bandages soaked through with herbs and blood.

"Well then, come here," - the healer's voice pulled him back again. He watched in puzzlement as the man rose purposefully and headed toward a cabinet in the corner of the room.

"I'm a witch, I don't know anything about medicine..." - the protest was feeble and vanished beneath a loud rattling from the high shelves. He had evidently underestimated the healer's eagerness to get home - or overestimated his dedication to his work. Olruggio sighed, thinking he wouldn't mind being home either. He had one urgent order waiting, and he could be finishing it in the sitting room, listening to the girls in the kitchen. Tetia would certainly try to drag him in with them, then stay and sit beside him, trying to entertain him with ridiculous stories. Qifrey... Qifrey would probably be laughing in a patch of sunlight as always, giving gentle directions whenever Olruggio eventually gave in and offered to help. The healer clattered another round of jars. Then, all at once, a dozen different pouches and vials tumbled onto the small table beside the bed.

"Here - when he starts tossing and turning, just mix these and change the compress," - Olruggio concentrated hard on following the man's gestures as he kept producing more and more containers from thin air - "these two, if he wakes up feeling sick, and this one needs to be mixed with water and given to him if he becomes agitated. Got it?"

He nodded, watching the chaotic array of vials on the table and sincerely hoping he wasn't lying. He absolutely did not want to make things worse - but he also couldn't leave right now, leaving Qifrey alone. How could he? The man was everything Olruggio had - and even if Olruggio wasn't everything Qifrey had, he would never have walked away from here. Not now, not when the restless thoughts were beginning to knit themselves into a quiet, nagging shape. He shook his head, not wanting to think about that yet. He would talk to Qifrey when he woke - ask everything he had wanted to ask.

The healer, realizing he wasn't being listened to, gave him one more sideways look.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest? It's very late."

"The girls have been given rooms, haven't they?" - Olruggio had checked himself, but it never hurt to confirm. The healer rubbed his eyes wearily from the doorway.

"You witches... never give a straight answer. Must make things complicated for you... socially," - and, not giving Olruggio a chance to respond, stepped out into the corridor and pulled the door shut.

Olruggio only shrugged and settled himself more comfortably in the chair, leaning into the back. The room held a strange kind of atmosphere - the familiar comfort of quiet pressing close against the fading edges of worry. A compress rested on Qifrey's head, passed along by Coco. It was unlikely to do much, but Olruggio couldn't hold back a faint smile. The girls were fine - the healer had probably not answered his question simply because he had heard it too many times already. He couldn't fault the man. Witches really were... tiresome company.

He had held the glasses so long that the metal of the frames had warmed in his hands. The thought of setting them down felt wrong - like willingly releasing something important, a thread stretching out into nothing.

"You don't know how to be simple, do you?" - Olruggio whispered, without bothering to hide his exhaustion. Even so it came out gently, try as he might.

Qifrey shifted restlessly, mumbling something under his breath. His eyes stayed closed - whether he was sleeping or simply too weak to surface properly was impossible to say. Olruggio leaned over the row of small vials, trying to remember which ones the healer had indicated. Carefully he combined the contents of a few of them and, rising from the chair, sank to one knee beside the bed. Moving as slowly as he could, he slid a hand beneath the other man's head and lifted it. Qifrey murmured something again, his brow creasing in his sleep.

"Come on, this will help," - his voice came out tender, like coaxing a child to sleep - "it'll help, I promise."

With a careful, delicate motion he tilted the vial and let the contents settle past barely parted lips. Once satisfied that the witch had swallowed and wasn't going to choke on it, he eased his head gently back onto the pillow. It was impossible not to notice how exhausted Qifrey looked. The features of his sleeping face hadn't relaxed - they seemed, if anything, more pronounced, and the lines near his eye had deepened. Olruggio sat motionless, watching the heavy rise and fall of the chest before him, unwilling to break the troubled sleep by getting up from his knees. What kind of Watchful Eye was he, if he couldn't help even in a moment like this?

His hand slipped down and closed firmly around the other's. Qifrey's fingers were cold - which wasn't surprising, given the amount of blood he had lost. Foolish, selfless idiot. He would probably spend several days unable to walk properly, let alone practice magic. Olruggio would have to search every corner of the atelier to make sure Qifrey wasn't pushing himself too hard - and do it in a way that made it seem like he wasn't worried at all.

Foolish, selfless idiot, who made him worry far too much. He would be so much harder to love, if he were any different. Olruggio lifted the man's hand carefully and pressed his forehead to the inside of Qifrey's wrist. He stayed there a moment, breathing in the ghost of white jasmine and fresh bandages, before slowly lowering his head to the bedsheet.

His eyes were growing heavy, and he knew it would be better to leave now, or at least try to sleep in the chair. But the sheets felt too much like the cushions of the sitting room sofa, and the warmth of the glasses in his hand went too well with the coolness of the other man's palm against his face. There was always tomorrow, wasn't there? To ask the questions, and find the answers.

"If you knew everything, I believe you would have tried to save me," - Qifrey slowly removed the hat from his own head, not daring to raise his eyes. The tips of his fingers were prickling unpleasantly - he couldn't see, but he knew what expression Olruggio would be wearing right now. He was used to that look - and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to bear it again.

"And I know you have a kind heart and that you'll forgive me again," - he stepped closer, knowing these words sounded very wrong. He didn't want to be forgiven, but he had no right to ask for anything else. Beneath all the layers of care and quiet smiles, something selfish was coiled inside him like a knot - and his selfishness was this: to stay beside Olly.

"I... wait, what are you doing, hold on!" - Olruggio sounded bewildered when the witch's hat settled down over his head.

"Since you won't remember this..."

Along with a faint shimmer, Qifrey's lips brushed carefully against the man's temple, leaving a silent promise there. He was acutely aware of the warmth of skin, a sharp breath drawn, the faint ghost of hair against his face. Breathing out unevenly, he thought how much he wanted more - he would have given so much for the chance to tell the truth, to stop pushing away, to be closer, to work his way under Olly's skin and stay there forever. And again he couldn't. Again and again - it simply wouldn't be fair.

"I'm sorry."

The last thing he saw before the flash was the startled expression on Olruggio's face. Qifrey looked at him, and there was sadness in the looking. He had promised once that one day he would tell him everything - and he was still afraid of being too close. How could this foolish, extraordinary man not understand?

Qifrey caught the falling figure carefully - he had no wish for Olly to complain about a stiff neck in the morning. He gently moved the other man into place, settling the fair head against his own lap. His hand drifted absently to the hair and he began slowly combing through the strands. He couldn't give this up - just a little longer. He knew Olly wouldn't let him walk this path alone - no matter how much he tried for that, even if it would be so much simpler and better if he did. His hand slipped to his sash, to the place where he kept the pen that had been given to him, its warm rune still inscribed there.

Just - not now. He knew that someday he would feel very ashamed. Around the time they talked about all the things they didn't usually talk about. About spare gloves, about folded laundry, about clothes dried after the rain, about new bells on the door. Qifrey exhaled, his fingers moving slowly through the sleeping man's hair. The girls would come running in a few minutes, and he would open his eyes again - but for now there was only the two of them. And he could let himself believe it would always be that way.