Chapter Text
The months after the Atelier was completed were filled with small upgrades; new furniture in the living room, a growing collection of cooking utensils and enchanted pots, sprouts in the garden. Qifrey and Olruggio were slowly but steadily filling the place with evidence of life. The most consistent changes though, were in Qifrey’s library. He made trips to and from the Great Hall, lugging back with him his grimoires to fill the beautiful oak shelves Olly had built into his workspace.
The clutter of magical tools and contraptions in the shared spaces of the place were the only tangible evidence of Olruggio’s existence in the atelier. The scruffy man had slept for the entire day following their completion of the atelier’s construction, and since then had been cooped up in his workshop working away on his backlog of orders.
As much as Qifrey hated to admit it to himself, the atelier felt lonely with Olly shut away working. He found himself preparing extra helpings of meals in the hopes that his friend would emerge from his workshop to share a meal, and each night found himself crestfallen at the sight of the empty chair across from him.
Tonight, Qifrey had filled a single bowl from the magic cookpot, resigned to his fate of solitary meals, when Olruggio appeared in the kitchen. The dark circles under his eyes made evident his exhaustion. Shuffling across the kitchen, he threw an arm across Qifrey’s shoulders and peered down at the stew in the cookpot.
“Would you mind spooning out a bowl for me?” He asked gruffly, dropping his chin onto Qifrey’s shoulder.
“Of course,” Qifrey tried to calm the nervous tremor in his hand as he dipped the ladle back into the cookpot. “I hope the portions I’ve made for you have stayed warm until you finish work for the day; I’d hate for my attempt at kindness to just be a cold supper.”
Olly grumbled as he took the bowl and slumped down to the tables level, shoveling a spoonful into his mouth before responding.
“Nope, they stay piping hot at least for the few hours between then and my inhaling them.” He huffed a tired laugh and continued to scarf down his dinner.
“Thanks for leaving them out for me, Qifrey.”
The silver haired man froze briefly in his travel towards the table at the sound of Olly’s thanks.
“Think nothing of it, my friend.” The soft sound of the wooden bowl meeting the table punctuated his words, and for a moment there was only the sound of the two of them eating in comfortable silence.
“What have you been working on? I’ve hardly seen you leave your workshop as of late.”
Olruggio let loose a defeated sigh, pressing the heels of his hands against his tired eyes. “Some posh nobleman wants the entire ballroom floor in his estate to be laid with glowstones. I’ve been etching seals until my fingers go numb.”
Qifrey winces sympathetically at the thought of his friend hunching over pavers until the early hours of the morning.
“You mustn’t work yourself to death dear friend.”
“Aye, I’m well aware darlin’. There’s no need to fuss like a doting wife, Qifrey.”
Qifrey laughs at the domestic nickname, though his ears burn red at its use. He dismisses the flipping sensation in his stomach as the work of the Silverwood, to free himself of the burden of unearthing why darlin’ sounded so lovely when spoken in Olruggio’s rugged and lilted accent.
“Simply save me from my concern by taking care, Olly; it would certainly put my mind at ease to have you eat at a reasonable time each night.”
It was a bit selfish that his request for his friend’s health also served to quell his own loneliness.
“Alright, I’ll try to remember to join you for supper more often.”
Another short period of silence passes between them before Olruggio yawns, the reflex warping his voice as he speaks. “Hiehart and his little sidekick, Jujy was her name if I recall correctly, they’ll be helping me lay the glowstones tomorrow.”
“How kind of them, I’ll have to put together some lunch for you three to take with you.” Qifrey made a mental note to bake something sweet to tuck away in the young girl’s lunch; lost in thought while stirring the dregs of his stew and pondering what he could throw together tonight to be taken along with them in the morning.
The dull thud of Olruggio nodding off, his head dropping onto the table perilously close to his still occupied bowl, shakes Qifrey from his thoughts. Worry clouds his eye briefly before Olly sits back up with lightning speed; a bright red mark at the center of his forehead and his hair pushed aside as he rubs at his eyes. Olruggio looks like a teenage apprentice who’s dozed off mid-lesson, and the sight of him groggy and bewildered shakes a brisk laugh from Qifrey’s chest.
“What’s so funny?” Olly rubs at his forehead and frowns gently at the chuckling witch across from him.
“I think you’re in dire need of some rest, you seem ready to drop like a stone.”
In a rare moment of compliance, Olruggio mumbles his agreement and tries to stand. Almost at once, he stumbles over his own two feet and slumps back into his seat with a soft grunt.
“Now there’s no need to commit so fully to my analogy Olruggio.” This time the concern lingers on Qifrey’s face despite his joking. Olruggio’s head bobs weakly as he fights sleep, his eyes heavy as lead.
Qifrey, eyes still shining with worry, steps from his own seat at the table and drops to one knee to better see Olruggio’s face.
“Alright then, let’s get you to bed.” He tugs the rugged man’s arm across his shoulders, huffing with the effort of hoisting Olruggio up off his seat.
“Told you… not to fuss so much…”
It takes what feels like ages to get Olruggio out of the kitchen and into the living room. With his friend finally settled semi-comfortably on the worn couch, Qifrey retrieves a warm quilt from his own room to keep Olly from catching a chill overnight. The last thing he needed was for his companion to fall ill ahead of an important deadline.
With Olruggio now tucked neatly beneath the quilt and snoring softly, Qifrey drew a pyre ball seal in the hearth to ward off the chill in the living room before retreating to the kitchen to begin his night of cooking.
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It wasn’t until the sun had reached the crest of its path the next day that Olruggio stirred from his slumber. Tucked beneath the quilt, enveloped in the scent of sandalwood and clove, he wondered foggily how he had ended up in Qifrey’s bed of all places. It wasn’t until he summoned the energy to open his still-heavy eyes, squinting against the sun, that he recognized his surroundings as the living room of the Atelier.
What a ridiculous notion, that Qifrey would have put him to sleep in his room instead of Olruggio’s own bed.
As the clarity of wakefulness returned to him, the smell of food reached him from the kitchen, delicious enough to convince Olly to abandon the comfort of the couch in search of its source.
“Welcome back to the world of the living.” Qifrey didn’t divert his attention from the omelet he was preparing as he greeted Olly.
He sat at the kitchen table, running his hands through his ruffled raven hair to smooth out his bed-head. “Any chance you’ve got extra eggs?”
In lieu of a response, Qifrey placed a second helping of omelet in front of him. Of course. A bit foolish to ask, knowing Qifrey always cooked for two. “Meals just aren’t as enjoyable when they’re not shared” had been his response when Olruggio had asked why he always cooked for the both of them.
“Did Hiehart stop by this morning? You might’ve bother to wake me rather than send the poor lad off to lay all those glowstones on his own.”
It hadn’t occurred to him in the fog of exhaustion that he had likely missed the young man’s visit to acquire the stones early this morning.
“Not to worry, I made sure to send him and Jujy off with only half the stones. They’ll be back by first thing tomorrow to collect the rest to finish the job once you’re rested up.”
Olruggio’s mouth hangs open, the half-chewed bite of omelet inside it causing Qifrey to grimace and avert his gaze.
“Qifrey.” His gravelly voice was a low growl, the two syllables more than enough to convey his frustration. “That nobleman wanted the ballroom laid by tomorrow evening!”
“And it will be!” Qifrey raised his hands in a plea for his friend to calm himself. “We’ll leave before dawn tomorrow. Between the four of us I’m certain we can finish by midday.”
“The four of us?”
Qifrey smiled awkwardly. “I’ll tag along to help you wrap up the job, if you don’t have any objections?”
Olruggio gave an appreciative grunt as he shoveled another forkful of omelet into his mouth.
“No lecture about my work schedule?” He asked skeptically after swallowing.
“I’ve been told recently that I fuss like a doting wife. I’ll spare you my nagging today.” Qifrey laughed, a light airy sound that seemed to brighten the rays of sunlight pouring in through the kitchen window. “I’m afraid I’m well aware that it’s in your nature to work until you physically can’t. I’ll simply need to be ready to pick you back up when you collapse.”
Qifrey smiled, eyes gentle and warm as they fixed on the sleep deprived witch before him. Olruggio gave only another gruff chuckle, though he could feel his cheeks warm with embarrassment.
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