Chapter Text
It was late, but Beldaruit had yet to retire to his bedchambers. He’s had some work to do, paperwork he’d forgotten in favor of chasing after his apprentice just a few nights ago. The atelier was quiet aside from the scratch of his quill across the paper as he wrote, neat letters filling the pages in knit-tight cursive.
The door to his downstairs study was slightly ajar, as it always was ever since he took Qifrey in.
At first, it was left that way so that boy could easily find his way to him if needed in the darkness of the night, whether he woke because of nightmares or because he couldn’t fall asleep in the first place. Nowadays though, years later, it became more of a precaution than anything else.
It was easier to notice his apprentice sneaking about that way, the small curtain of light seeping into the corridor just enough to reflect off Qifrey’s white hair as the boy passed by.
Much to Beldaruit’s chagrin, the teenager had made those escapades a habit which only worsened as he aged. Beldaruit knew he was partially at fault for that, of course.
He knew he enabled Qifrey too much, and turned a blind eye way too often. But it would be ignorant not to notice how much his pupil hated the underwater prison that Great Hall appeared to be to him. More often than not he just couldn’t bring himself to chastise Qifrey for yearning for the open skies.
It became even harder ever since Qifrey had befriended Olruggio.
The boy from Ghodrey brough fire with him and it’s warmth sparked some light back into Qifrey’s eyes. Olruggio charmed everyone – Beldaruit was no exception, but Qifrey was especially enthralled by his friend, who seemed to have somewhat of a good influence on him.
And so, Beldaruit was willing to let some leniency slide, as long as Qifrey at least attempted to keep Beldaruit updated of his whereabouts, and to his credit, he usually did nowadays.
Apparently, tonight was not one of these days.
Beldaruit’s main study was located on atelier’s ground floor. Primarily because there was more room there, but also because he liked to work away from his bed whenever his health allowed. There was also an additional perk to the study’s location, one he’d only learnt to appreciate after he took Qifrey in: it’s close distance to the kitchen and, by extension, to the side entrance.
He heard footsteps in the corridor. He dropped his quill and turned his head to follow the noise so just in time to unsurprisingly spot a dash of white passing through the corridor. The doors creaked and then clicked shut.
Beldaruit let out a defeated sigh, knowing that Qifrey had apparently decided to have a night out without consulting him first.
It was no use, to go and try stop the boy in his tracks now, after he’d already left. And so, Beldaruit picked up his pen again and returned to writing down Qifrey’s studies progress report.
He had barely got to put the pen to the paper, when he heard the door creak again, followed by two sets of footsteps echoing through the corridor. Now that was unusual. Cloud it be that Qifrey was actually sneaking someone in?
Actually, to hell with someone, realistically speaking, the only person he could attempt to sneak in was Olruggio, but the boy had an unhealthy degree of politeness to him, and he would never as much as come to pick Qifrey up without a proper greeting, even so late in the night.
That is, unless Qifrey convinced him to avoid Beldaruit tonight for whatever reason, perhaps not wanting to be intruded upon. That however, severely limited possible reasons for Olruggio’s to visit so late at night…
Oh well.
He’d had his suspicions over the years, but he had always figured he’d been making more out of it than it actually was. Apparently, he could have been right all along, given…
Sizzle of a lamp contraption being activated in the kitchen, followed by a loud crash interrupted the speculations whirling in Beldaruit’s mind.
For a brief moment, he thought that maybe one of the boys had simply dropped something, and is now hurriedly picking it up to avoid detection, but then he heard the voices.
More specifically, he heard Qifrey’s raised voice. Boy tries to be quiet and often fails, especially when he’s upset, and by the way the sound carries, he definitely was now. Not sneaking around, then. Definitely not sneaking.
Arguing, more like.
Whatever it was, Beldaruit decided he should take interest in the situation. He abandoned the paperwork on the desk and let the sealchair carry him towards the kitchen, from where the hushed voice of Olruggio and not-so-hushed quipping of Qifrey could be heard.
The scene he was greeted by as he entered was not one he’d expect, but it wasn’t alarming either, thank stars. Olruggio lingered by the kitchen entrance with an tired expression, Qifrey standing across from him, one of the chairs lying on the floor, as if someone tried to push it out of the way and put too much force into it. They both went quiet as soon as Beldaruit appeared, although Qifrey rolled his eye upon his arrival.
Olruggio on the other hand instantly straightened and offered him an apologetic smile, bowing his head.
“Lord Beldaruit.”
Beldaruit raised his hand. He liked theatrics, but he wasn’t in the mood for watching the kid that he basically raised alongside his own apprentice making a fool of himself just to appease him. He looked at the dark-haired boy, briefly noting the appearance of something vaguely reminiscent of goatee on his chin.
He should have probably asked if Olruggio’s master knew about him being out so late, but by now he knew that Olruggio’s master was just rather lenient about his apprentices in general. It was probably, at least partially, the reason the boy had picked him out in the first place, as he didn’t have to worry about being smothered too much. At least by his own master, because when it came to other people, Beldaruit sometimes wished he could drill some attitude into Olruggio’s skull.
The boy smothered himself well enough with the constant pressure of proving himself anyway, even without masters or adults expecting things of him. Which only made thing worse, because adults did expect a lot from Olruggio. A lot too much. Beldaruit was not going to add to that pile.
With that in mind, he turned towards his own apprentice.
“Are you boys going out?” he asked, a pleasant smile dancing on his lips. “How nice of you, that you remembered and turned back to let me know, Qifrey.”
“Actually, I’m just dropping him off,” Olruggio injected before Qifrey even had chance to open his mouth.
Beldaruit blinked at him. Always so eager to keep Qifrey out of trouble. It was sad to watch sometimes. It was precisely why Beldaruit knew not to believe him without second thought.
“Is that so?”
Qifrey scowled, evidently taken aback by anyone daring to question Olruggio’s honesty.
“It is,” Qifrey scoffed, crossing arms on his chest. “Although I wouldn’t call it ‘dropping off’, since he hadn’t taken me out in the first place. He’s too busy with his clients.”
He spoke the last sentence in a tone that indicated both hurt and jealousy. Beldaruit tried to keep his expression clear as he noticed that, and decided not to comment on his choice of words in front of Olruggio, although the way Qifrey phrased it was certainly interesting.
“I told you, after the Silver Eve…” Olruggio muttered, twiddling with the collar of his shirt. Qifrey just squinted at him, and scoffed again.
Olruggio visibly deflated, but said nothing. Bless this boy and his patience. Beldaruit at times wondered what is it, what is it that kept him so tethered to Qifrey.
He himself, against everyone’s harsh opinions on that, loved Qifrey like a son – he caused him troubles sometimes, and had his moods, but he loved him nevertheless. He was the closest thing Qifrey had to a family, after all, and families are not always easy.
When it came to Olruggio, Beldaruit couldn’t help but just… wonder, sometimes. Did his pupil behave differently towards his friend, less spiky and less distant? Probably. Or maybe it was Olruggio’s dutiful nature that stopped him from dropping Qifrey from his life. He was the principle example of the kind of honor that left no friend nor foe left behind, after all. Beldaruit assumed it was either that, or, more likely, that it really all came down to the fact that Olruggio simply loved Qifrey as well, which was obvious and bittersweet to watch from the sidelines.
Beldaruit wondered if Qifrey knew, and if he did, then if they had acted on it, or if there was really anything to it, too. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions yet again. In fact, maybe it was about time he’d asked instead of making assumptions. Better to be safe than sorry, and he wouldn’t want to hurt either boys’ feelings by accident.
Lecture about breaking the curfew could wait until tomorrow, he decided, and turned towards Olruggio again.
“Thank you for walking him home,” he nods to him. “Now, I hear you’re busy so I won’t keep you around longer. Good luck with your work,” he adds with a wink, clasping his hands. “I can’t wait to see what kind of amazing charm will you surprise us with this Silver Eve, mister Olruggio.”
Olruggio, of course, beamed upon hearing the praise. Poor boy. He waved his goodbye to Qifrey and took his leave. Beldaruit felt the atmosphere in the kitchen shifted the second the door closed behind him. He turned back to his apprentice and gestured towards the knocked over chair and the table.
“Sit,” he offered, positioning his sealchair at his usual spot. Qifrey blinked at him. Then, begrudgingly, pulled the chair up from the ground and sat..
“You don’t have to scold me. I didn’t sneak out in the end,” he muttered, his gaze fixated on the tabletop.
Beldaruit ignored him.
“I would appreciate it if you could have some mercy on my elderly soul next time, and informed me if you have any plan,” he said instead.
“Elderly? You’re not even fifty yet, master.” Qifrey rolled his eye. He didn’t seem impressed by anything else Beldaruit had said, which was not a surprise. They had this conversation numerous times before.
This time though, Beldaruit was not willing to drop the topic so quickly. He needed to press further, for both Qifrey’s and Olruggio’s sake. He could not simply let that display of jealousy he just witnessed slide, not if he wanted to sleep peacefuly, without worrying whether or not he’s missing something important.
Besides, Beldaruit liked to see Olruggio actually making sure Qifrey gets home. How thoughtful of him, to come all that way despite residing in an atelier almost all the way across the Great Hall from there. Usually it was Qifrey who walked his friend back and then proceeded to wander around for hours before finally getting home himself.
Sure, he could chalk it up to Qifrey insisting that if Olruggio is busy, he could at least walk him back, if he wants him to go home that much, but part of Beldaruit preffered to think that the other boy simply worried.
And Beldaruit worried too, so he had to know.
“How is it that I only hear about your date plans from Olruggio, and not you?” he asked bluntly.
Qifrey’s head snapped up, his eye widening.
“Pardon?”
He sounds offended, but Beldaruit couldn’t help the pang of amusement as Qifrey blushed, dapples of crimson appearing on his checks as he all but gawked at his master.
“Apologies, am I mistaken by the nature of your… friendship? Your behavior could’ve fooled me.” Beldaruit mused tapping his fingers against the table. Across from him, Qifrey squirmed in his seat, evidently uncomfortable by the turn of the conversation.
“What is that supposed to mean, master?” Qifrey snapped. He looked both surprised and hurt by the implication, like someone had just slapped him after giving him candy.
Beldaruit sighed. There was really no easy way to have this conversation, was there? Oh, how he wished that Qifrey would open up to him sometimes.
It seemed that the older his apprentice got, the denser the walls around him became. When he was still a child, it was easy to weed out thorns and redirect his attitude, but now, at nearly eighteen, it seemed as if Qifrey simply had no desire to mantain any sort of pleasantry towards anyone he didn’t respect anymore. And he certainly didn’t respect Beldaruit, at least not in the same way he used to when he was younger.
Beldaruit could accept that defeat, could understand that parents became embarrassing with time. He could deal with being uncool and unwelcome, and with being faced with attitude. He could accept the prickly kind of distant affection Qifrey held for him. He knew deep down that Qifrey didn’t hate him.
He still couldn’t help his worries, though. Especially when it came to his attitude towards other people. Beldaruit simply didn’t want Qifrey to become lonely. Stars knew he was already so bitter.
“You’re mistreating poor Olruggio, dear,” Beldaruit said finally, after pondering the words for a moment.
Now Qifrey looked like someone had really slapped him. If Beldaruit hadn’t know better, he could swore he saw tears gathering in his eye.
“You came to that conclusion based on one exchange?” Qifrey chuckled sarcastically, his voice going up a pitch. He was so… nervous, in his mannerisms. He always was, but now it seemed even more erratic than usual.
Beldaruit waved his hand at him. “Obviously not, you know me better than that. But I cannot help but notice that he worries about you, too much perhaps.” He sighed again. “Clearly, he cares more about your safety than you do, and it pains me to see. You could at least try to understand his stress and not add onto it, when he’s clearly so busy.”
“I see,” Qifrey smiled, but there was something sad to it. “You know, I hear you and I am well aware that Olruggio deserves better company that mine, master. No need to rub it in.”
Now, that was simply a cruel response, and it was both painful and infuriating to hear. It was the furthest thing from what Beldaruit had meant, and he was sure Qifrey knew it as well.
He would never as much as insinuate that Qifrey is not deserving of Olruggio, or the other way around, He had a sickening feeling that Qifrey knew that too and simply elected to believe he meant otherwise instead, if only to fuel his own self-depreciating spiral he was so prone to.
Beldaruit stared at his apprentice, his hands falling flat against the table. If it were anyone else sitting across from him, he’d reach out for him. With Qifrey these days, he feared the boy would fall apart at the slightest offer of comfort, whether it was out of pride or out of stubborness, Beldaruit did not know.
“Now, let’s not play stupid, Qifrey,” Beldaruit snapped. He would not stand Qifrey talking about himself as if he was some evil-incarnate. Not in his own home. “The boy still looks at you like you hung the stars yourself, and you’re clearly jealous. A bit fruitlessly, if you ask me, because it’s obvious Olruggio is not interested in any company but yours.”
Beldaruit let out an exasperated breath as Qifrey tensed. Uncomfortable silence had fallen over them, only broken by occasional tic-toc of the clock on the counter. Minute passed, then another, until Qifrey finally decided to say something.
“Indeed, perhaps I overreacted today, but there’s no need to worry, master. We are just friends.” his voice was leveled as he spoke, almost like he rehearsed these exact lines countless times before.
Beldaruit was sure that Qifrey’s not telling him the truth. He couldn’t be, with how he avoided his gaze and how obviously uncomfortable he was with the topic. Regardless, Beldaruit decided to drop it here.
What else could he do? Insist that they’re surely secretly in relationship? Prod and poke until Qifrey finally snaps at him, furious and terryfying, like he already proved himself capable to be? He still would’ve lied, but this time there would be more hurt to it, and it would become yet another simmering piece of guilt and resentment in the boys’ hands that Beldaruit would feel responsible for.
He could ask Olruggio, but he wasn’t his child, and he knew better than to try and step in in places he wasn’t welcome to. If he did that, Qifrey would inevitably learn of it, and he’d never forgive him. As tenative as it was, Qifrey trusted Beldaruit. If he crossed this particular line, Beldaruit wasn’t sure he would be able to regain even a fraction of that trust ever again.
Besides, there was no reason for Olruggio to be honest with him, even if he did ask him. The teenager respected him as his best friends’ master, and as an adult, but he had no obligations to him.
Beldaruit had no choice but accept what Qifrey gave him.
“Understood,” he nodded.
A look of relief instantly washed over Qifrey’s face. “Great. Can I go now?”
“Straight to bed, I hope?”
“Do I have anywhere else to be, when Olly’s busy?” teenager scoffed.
Beldaruit allowed himself to grin. “You could always help me with paperwork, if you’re bored,” he said sweetly.
Qifrey glared at him. He remained silent as he picked up his coat and stood up, before disappearing into the hallway leading deeper into the atelier.
────ꕀ 𖧷 ꕀ────
“I think I should take the fifth next year.”
Beldaruit set his cup down with enough force that tea splashed over the rim. He expected many things from Qifrey, but that was not one of them. He was surely hallucinating, hearing things that the Qifrey he knew would never have been spoken out loud.
His Qifrey. Taking the fifth test. His Qifrey being a teacher.
“Say something,” Qifrey said.
Okay, so he really did hear that right.
“Well, that’s unexpected,” he replied quietly.
Qifrey was sitting in the chair next to his bed, hands in his lap, twiddling his thumbs over the fabric of his snow-white skirt. He had passed the fourth test a few months ago and changed his style a great deal, but the main color of the cloak and the triangular clasp at his hat were the two things he kept as tribute to Beldaruit’s own attire.
Beldaruit had expected him to be out in the wilderness by now, traveling the outside world like he wanted, with Olruggio by his side. Instead, the boy lingered around still, keeping him company. And apparently planning to continue his education, which he didn’t bother to inform Beldaruit about up until now.
He didn’t mind one bit that he stayed in the Great Hall. To him, Qifrey could live in the atelier for as long as he wanted. It was his home.
Still, he couldn’t fathom the image of Qifrey as a teacher.
Yes, he was a great witch, despite many hiccups on his road to graduation, and he was decent with kids. But he had never quite shaken off that worrying… obsession of his. Beldaruit knew Qifrey thought he was being sly with it, but he raised that boy. He could read him like an open book.
Not that he wold inform him of that. He didn’t need to hear another screaming match, and these were sadly increasingly frequent during the last few years. It seemed that Qifrey at twenty was somehow even more lost than the boy he’d first taken under his care, who didn’t know the first thing about the world around him.
And now that man wanted to teach kids.
Beldaruit would love to know the version of Qifrey he could encourage to fulfill this idea with pride and joy. The reality was different though. The Qifrey he knew was his beloved child, but he was also a person he wouldn’t trust when it came to prioritizing a child’s wellbeing over their own goals, whatever they may be.
He needed to know what drove him to even consider this route.
“Whatever for?” he asked, feigning calmness. “Didn’t you intend to establish a remote atelier with your dear Olruggio? Wouldn’t taking on apprentices clash with your idea of freedom?”
Qifrey smiled at him. There was something distant in his gaze. “Well, yes, I still want to get out of here someday. But I was thinking, it sounds terribly boring, just the two of us. A bit too peaceful, don’t you think?”
“I think Olruggio would be terribly offended if he heard you say things like this.”
Qifrey ignored him.
“Besides, you said it yourself that you do not intend to take on any more apprentices,” he mused further. “So it’s only reasonable I take The Words of The Wise. You are the next in line for the position of Wise in Teachings, and that would put me after you. Even if I don’t take apprentices on now, I need to pass the fifth so I could take one to keep the succession order in check.”
That explanation sounded well-thought through, but it wasn’t convincing. Not to Beldaruit at least. His ascension to the position of the Sage was not set in stone yet. There was still a chance that his old masters other apprentice would take on an apprentice and be eligible to take over instead of him. It was a slim chance, but it was a chance, and the outcome he’d prefer over becoming one of the Three Sages himself.
“Since when do you care about politics?” he raised an eyebrow at him.
“I don’t particularly care about them, but we both know what the situation is,” Qifrey said matter-of-factly.
“Well, no need to put pressure on yourself, dear boy. In the instance of me getting the position, I could always take on assistant-apprentice.” Beldaruit said wistfully. “You could live out your life happily without worrying about coming back here, underwater, and I wouldn’t have to worry about you putting me first. Wouldn’t that be ideal?”
“Maybe. But then, I know you would try to stop me if I even tried to attempt the test after you’ve become Wise in Teachings. Nothing is stopping me now, while old Vivian is still alive.”
Ah. So that’s what it was all about.
Of course, why would Qifrey come to actually ask him what he thought? He didn’t want to discuss possibilities, he just had a sliver of decency to inform Beldaruit of his decision, regardless of what his master thought of them.
When did his boy change so much? No, that was a wrong question. He knew exactly when the switch happened. After the Tower of Tomes. After Qifrey and Olruggio exchanged tassels. The question was not when that happened, but rather what happened inside the library.
Beldaruit sometimes wished he could turn back time and stop Qifrey from ever attempting the trial. He also knew that his wishes were pointless. He could not change the outcome; he could only deal with the consequences.
“I see,” he said finally.
Qifrey’s smile somehow became more dull. “I know you are not happy about this.” He sounded remorseful. Sad, even. “But please believe I have my own good reasons for this, selfish as they are. Please, forgive me, dad.” Qifrey’s voice wavered.
Beldaruit’s breath caught. When was the last time Qifrey had called him that? It must have been no less than a decade.
How he could refuse him, when he asked him for so little?
“Qifrey…” he sighed. He leaned forward to take Qifrey’s still-fidgeting hands into his own. Qifrey stilled, his frame tensing. He looked away, refusing to meet his eyes, but his hands remained clasped between Beldaruit’s. “I forgive you. I’ve already forgiven you for the rest of your life,” he said firmly. “And I never want to hear you ask me that again, my child.”
Qifrey flinched. He hadn’t moved away.