Archive of Our Own

When Olruggio closed his eyes, he could still feel the press of Qifrey’s hand to his. 

The memory tickled his palm, swam in his stomach pleasantly, made his heart flutter. He pictured the way Qifrey’s fingers had twitched with hesitation at the touch, unused to having his hand intertwined with another. The thrum of his pulse in his fingers, the breath he’d released when that rigid grip softened with determination. Their eyes inches apart and curious; their gazes had been locked in wonder at the unfamiliarity of such closeness.

Two boys. So youthful and unused to the weight of promises that a clasp of covenant was a first for them.

Olruggio had sworn to stand by Qifrey no matter what revelations awaited him in the Tower of Tomes. He’d whispered words that would persist only in memory, never to be retold as gossip nor tale. It was a moment he knew with certainty that he’d treasure forever. The heat that bloomed in his heart at the gesture had seared it permanently. A scar that ached pleasantly, etched in the shape of his and Qifrey’s joined hands.

He wasn’t sure who had reached for their tassel first. They moved as though commanded, an unseen force guiding their hands to their hats with soft smiles on their faces and cheeks glowing bashfully. The offer was made in silence. Breaths came quick and nervous, two hands stained with ink and dirt from their journey to the tower’s first gate outstretched in the empty space between them like a bridge.

They’d gripped hands again. The tassels pressed between their palms. 

Qifrey’s had been a little sweaty; Olruggio didn’t mind because his must have been too. 

A vow of eternal trust transported between their fingers, naïve to the true length of a lifetime but assured that they could weather any storm together so long as their hands were close enough to clasp again.

When their hands had separated, neither boy was holding his master’s tassel anymore.

Olruggio had delicately traced a finger over the woven silk strands that now tickled his fingers. Qifrey had wrapped the ribbon around his fingers and pulled, letting it ripple around him and smiling at the small char in the hem a little over halfway down its length. They’d been practicing fire magic together the day that had happened, a stray ember from parchment that had caught too quick that danced too close to his ribbon and kissed the edge.

It was only a small mark but Qifrey had remarked how characteristic a burn on his tassel was. It had tickled him, creased the corners of his eyes with laughter and Olruggio had been transfixed on seeing him like that again ever since.

Now he held it in his palm like a sacred memory. Qifrey’s eye shone. His lips curled up ever so slightly.

They removed their hats and attached the tassels in an everlasting oath.

Now, Olruggio was sitting with a dopey grin on his face and sighing wistfully to himself at the memory. The pen in his hand leaked ink into a messy blotch on his parchment where he was supposed to be completing the homework his master had set after she’d failed to get him to concentrate in class for more than 5 minutes. Eventually, she’d sighed with a defeated smile and told him to finish up later with her eyes purposely trained on the tassel dangling from his hat.

It made him giddy to see her notice it. He wore the evidence of Qifrey’s trust in him with an overwhelming sense of pride.

“You’ll stain the table,” Qifrey said absently, his nose buried in the pages of a book. “Miss Nahlana told you she wouldn’t fix another one after you burned all those others. That probably applies to ink stains too.”

Hurriedly, Olruggio snapped out of his daydream and capped the pen. Qifrey, still focused on his book, lifted a hand from beneath the table and handed him a seal to evaporate the ink.

“Thanks,” he said with a slight hint of panic. The seal effectively removed the danger of ruining yet another table. “Crisis avoided, which is good considering I still don’t know how to draw stain removal seals. Master Nahlana said she refuses to teach children how to do chores when we should be setting fire to things instead. Kinda contradicts her refusal to help me when I do set fire to things on accident,” he grumbled.

Qifrey hummed. “I know how.”

“Huh? Why? When?”

“A few weeks ago. I figured if I'm going to leave the hall once I graduate I should know how to do chores without all of the contraptions down here.”

Olruggio’s heart stung at the reminder that Qifrey planned to leave one day. Though he’d once insisted he’d go with him, Qifrey still only ever spoke of an ‘I’ and never an ‘us’.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “But you don’t ever make a mess, you should learn how to keep a hearth burning for longer than a couple hours first. Your favorite place to read is by the fire, right?”

“I know how to keep a hearth lit!” Qifrey protested. “It wouldn’t matter anyway, I’d just ask you to light it if I couldn’t. Just like how you’ll be asking me to clean up all the mess you make.”

“What?!”

“The atelier would be a terrible working environment if neither of us knew how to do basic housework. I’m just taking responsibility like a good witch and a better friend,” Qifrey hummed.

“I-I’m not gonna make you my maid,” Olruggio spluttered. A blush struck his cheek.

It seemed Qifrey had already accepted their future cohabitation as a certainty. Olruggio felt dizzy at the sudden change in his heart’s cadence from somber to joy.

“Hm, then you better learn that seal.” Qifrey stood up and looked at him teasingly. “I’m gonna go grab some more parchment, try not to destroy the table while I’m gone.”

“Rude. Don’t get lost.”

“Quiet,” Qifrey snorted.

Olruggio watched as he walked away, the ribbon flowing down his back and swaying with every footfall. It moved as tranquil as a waterfall, not a trace of the tension Qifrey typically held his shoulders or the way he gripped his skirt when stares followed him out the room. His stomach tickled as though a brushbuddy was scampering across it.

He bit back a smile and started to doodle a seal of fire and decorative keystones.

“Olruggio!”

“GAH?!”

Olruggio flinched, flailing for a moment with his pen. He spun around to face the girl who’d startled him.

“Alaira! I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that,” he groaned.

Unbothered, she cackled before taking a seat next to him. “That’d be no fun though! Besides, there’s no way you’re expecting me to be calm when you’ve got that hanging from your hat. You’re lucky I didn’t scream the second I realized you and Qifrey hadn't just mixed your hats up again.”

“You say that like you didn’t just yell my name. Everyone is looking over here now.”

Olruggio shrunk into his robes to try to hide his face from the many eyes that were failing to covertly direct their gaze at him.

“C’mon people have been staring since I walked in, that wasn’t my fault,” Alaira huffed. “You know people don’t know how to mind their own business, especially when it involves Qifrey.”

She’d raised her voice for the last part, fearlessly aiming her gaze around the room and delighting in the hurried way the other apprentices looked away and started scrawling nonsense seals against their parchment. Some choked on their drinks, their friends embarrassed but politely rubbing their backs despite their humiliation flushing on their cheeks.

It was difficult for Olruggio to feel bad. These were the eyes that obsessed over Qifrey like he was an object of myth, a walking ghost story that changed with every piece of gossip that passed from ear to ear in halls and classrooms. Alaira scoffed and dared them to indulge her in their latest childish slander with her eyes cold and challenging.

The stares stopped. 

Olruggio sighed. “So annoying.”

“If these are the witches we’ll be working with when we’re older, I'm gonna have a hard time following the principles.”

“Alaira! Don’t joke like that,” Olruggio stressed.

“I’m kidding, calm down,” she laughed. “Anyway that’s not why I came over here.”

Her tone turned teasing. Olruggio knew to be afraid of her when she spoke like that.

“So…” Alaira leaned in closer to him. “You and Qifrey like like each other, hm?”

“Wha- Wait.. It- It’s not! I… argh.” 

Flustered, he waved his hands at her and felt his cheeks burn. He looked around to see if Qifrey was nearby and sagged in relief that he hadn’t seen or heard his outburst.

Alaira, however, took joy in it. “It’s not like that?”

“No!” Olruggio’s heart shook.

“No it’s not like that, or no it is like that?” She teased.

“It- you! Stop it,” he protested. “You’re the worst.”

“C’mon Olruggio, I’m not asking you to tell me all the mushy stuff. I just wanna know if you told Qifrey that the reason you’re always staring at him like he’s made of magic is because you like him,” she sang.

Slumping, Olruggio buried his face in his hands. He wondered if spells that made the ground swallow you whole were forbidden.

“Swapping tassels, it’s like you’re already married,” she pretended to wipe away a tear. “They grow up so fast.”

“Alaira!”

“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “So long as you two are okay, I guess it doesn’t matter if you don’t have all the lovey-dovey stuff figured out yet. All I’m saying is that Qifrey looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, you’re dumb if you don’t think he likes you too.”

“That was almost a nice piece of advice,” Olruggio snorted.

“You take what you’re given,” she shrugged. “As thanks, you can tell me why you actually swapped tassels.”

Grinning, Olruggio picked his pen up and returned to his homework. “Not happening.”

For a second, Alaira opened her mouth to protest but promptly closed it when her eyes seemed to spot something ahead of them. When Olruggio looked up, he couldn’t fight back the relieved smile that lifted his lips when he saw Qifrey walking towards them, arms bursting with parchment and books.

Alaira waved. “Qifrey! Hey!”

“Oh, Alaira. Hello,” Qifrey nodded to her. He sat down and dropped the heavy load onto the table. “Sorry I took a while, Olly. I stopped by the library on the way back.”

“You ‘stopped by’ is an interesting way of saying you got lost and ended up there.”

Alaira snorted at the way Qifrey pouted, Olruggio joining her in her laughter when he crossed his arms and huffed. Qifrey dug through the pile on the table and produced a heavy book which he pushed towards Olruggio with a smug raise of his eyebrow.

“Here. So you can learn some chore spells.”

“You got lost and still managed to one up me,” Olruggio sighed and opened the book. He thumbed through the pages and winced at the texture of the waxy parchment, old and dusty. “Who knew cleaning magic was so extensive. I’ll probably graduate before I make it through this, Qifrey.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being dramatic or criticizing your own learning pace,” Qifrey sighed.

Alaira pulled the book from Olruggio’s hands and stuck her tongue out at the pages. “If it took him a solid four years to get through one book, I’d be telling everyone to cut it out with the ‘star student’ comments,” she nudged him slyly.

She flipped through the seals, her curious distaste for them clear on her face. “Why do you need chore spells anyway? We have contraptions for all of this. Look at this one, that’s such a pain to draw!”

The intricate lines made Olruggio want to slam the book against his skull, either in hopes it would erase his memory of the upcoming work he’s caused himself or that the impact would instill the knowledge into his brain without the need for study. Qifrey’s look of warning told him to not bother; Olruggio wondered if he should be proud or concerned that Qifrey could read him so well.

“We’re not gonna have contraptions when we move out of the hall, they’re too technical and expensive for newly graduated witches. I don’t wanna rely on Qifrey every time I get ink on my shirt or leave all the housework to him because I never bothered to learn any cleaning spells,” Olruggio explained.

He couldn’t fight the way a grin grew on his lips at the acknowledgement that he was, indeed, planning to live with Qifrey one day.

“Huh? I knew Qifrey wanted out as soon as he graduated, but I had no idea you were going too.. I thought you liked the hall,” Alaira questioned.

Olruggio took a moment to bite back his initial answer.

He did like the hall. 

He just liked Qifrey more.

Alaira spoke again without hearing him out, anyway. “I thought you were trying to be all independent, Qifrey. Isn’t this guy gonna destroy your plans for a peaceful atelier in the countryside? You’ve heard him be all ‘hahh nothing’s working’ when he gets stuck on a seal, right?”

“I don’t sound like that,” Olruggio huffed.

Qifrey, who rarely smiled around others, hid a grin behind his hand. “You do, Olly.”

Balking, Olruggio crossed his arms and turned away in defiance.

“I don’t mind, it doesn’t bother me” Qifrey shrugged. “Olruggio said he wanted to come with me and I’ll need a watchful eye anyway, so I saw no problem with it.”

Oh.

Of all the words Olruggio had expected Qifrey to say, those came as a surprise.

He’d assumed Qifrey had agreed because he wanted his company, because if he were to leave he’d ache to part from his best friend the same way Olruggio would miss him dearly. He thought it was because they’d promised to stay beside each other. Had vowed it with clasped hands.

It was fine.

Qifrey had adjusted his plans for convenience, finding Olruggio to be a palatable contender for his watchful eye, and agreed for that purpose.

His hand felt cold. When he closed his eyes for just a moment, he felt the swish of ribbon against his back, only for it to disappear when he opened them again and saw it still dangling from Qifrey’s hat. 

Qifrey was still hiding his face behind his hand as though he were hiding something. If Olruggio didn’t know better, he’d suggest that he was blushing. However, he snuffed the idea as the fire in his stomach crumbled to ash. 

He could feel Alaira’s eyes on him and begged her to leave it alone.

Thankfully, she did. After a few more minutes of small talk she stood from the bench and excused herself. Her hand brushed against his shoulder, her nails tapping a rhythm for a short moment until a rush of cool air told him she’d left.

Qifrey’s hand waving in front of his eyes snapped him out of his daze.

He smiled at him. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Olruggio tilted his head to one side, inquisitive.

“Looking forward to what?”

“Sharing an atelier. I was nervous you’d want to stay here, but I didn’t want to pressure you by asking.”

Shocked, Olruggio locked eyes with him, relaxing into the gentle quiver that shone in Qifrey’s iris.

“O-of course I was gonna choose to go with you. Someone has to keep you in check when you sneak out, though I guess that won’t really be necessary when we’re adults.. Well, unless you plan on being this reckless forever?”

“I’m considering it,” he hummed.

They both began to chuckle. Olruggio basked in the glory of hearing the way laughter spilled from Qifrey’s lips, of being witness to the way his cheeks creased the corner of his eye. He felt their youth would last forever if only they could sit in these moments for a little longer. Yet he also found himself longing for their future, for their closeness to be so familiar that the touch of Qifrey’s hand to his was etched into the skin of his palms. 

For his laughter to always be sung in harmony with Qifrey’s.

“I’m looking forward to it too,” he said. “I was a little scared when you told Alaira you’d only accepted because you’d need a watchful eye at some point if you took on apprentices. Especially after… y’know.. what we promised the other day.”

“What we’ve said to each other isn’t anyone else’s business,” he whispered. He wrapped the end of the ribbon around his ring finger as though it were a habit. “They can believe what they want, I’d rather the truth remains ours.”

Olruggio was stunned into silence. His mouth agape, eyes flitting to Qifrey’s finger, to his eye, to the tips of his flushed ears.

Determination set his expression fiercely. He was serious, guarding their secrets like a master protects their apprentices.

For the remainder of the afternoon, Olruggio couldn’t quite quell the fireflies that buzzed around his heart.

It’s a few hours later, when Olruggio is heading back to Master Nahlana’s atelier, that someone asks about the tassels again.

He’d parted with Qifrey at the door to Mister Beldaruit’s atelier lest he got lost again. Thankfully, he’d managed to avoid the sage himself, his head already thrumming from Alaira’s teasing to withstand Beldaruit’s love for the unexpected. The last time he’d failed to escape he’d been drenched in water after Beldaruit thought it was a good idea to appear as a figure of water, which Qifrey had burst in annoyance.

Master Nahlana had laughed so hard she cried when he’d returned to his own atelier dripping wet. He’d had to put the drying rings on her thumbs himself.

He trudged up the many stairs to the mezzanine that separated his master’s atelier from the lower floors that were dedicated to workspaces and libraries. The balcony overlooked the cozy space below where the younger kids often met to play under the large skylight where the sun tried to shine down to the depths on the ocean floor. 

Seeing them play made him wonder what it would’ve been like if he’d met Qifrey when they were too young to be apprentices. He wondered if growing up here would’ve made his smiles come easier, if his laughter would’ve sank into the salt water above and lapped up on the shore for curious bystanders to make legends of. 

Olruggio didn’t understand why he thought of Qifrey so much. The mental image of him glittering and surrounded by roses. It had gotten more vivid since the tower.

He crossed his arm over the balcony ledge and inhaled the thick mist into his chest. Maybe it would dash the flames that seemed to flutter there.

“Olruggio, why aren’t you in your atelier?”

Nevermind, that did the trick.

“Easthies,” Olruggio huffed. “I got to leave class early today. Is that forbidden?”

“Not at all,” he said. 

His shoulders were set in a way that attempted to persuade intimidation but no amount of puffing his chest could stop him from merely being a child.

“However I’ve been told to be vigilant about yours and Qifrey’s.. escapades. Everyone heard about your trip to the tower. Unsupervised, might I add. The knights have had a nightmare trying to justify how you managed to slip by us without anyone noticing.”

“Probably because you were too busy acting all important that you forgot to pay attention,” Olruggio mumbled to himself. 

Before Easthies could ask him to repeat himself, he spoke up to address him directly.

“Our masters were okay with it, I don’t get why you’re bugging me about it. There’s no rule that says apprentices have to be with a graduated witch to pass the librarian’s trial.”

Easthies grip on his spear tightened. “There’s an order to which things should be done! Do you think your masters would’ve been fine with it if the two of you had gotten hurt? Or do you think they’d be yelling at us for not guarding the windowway parlor? Honestly, all Qifrey has done since he got here is drag you into his ridiculous schemes. What happened to Ghodrey’s star pupil?”

Olruggio clenched his fists to stay the urge to grab the other boy by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. Or, shake some sense out of him, he supposed, would be more accurate.

Always so inflexible when it came to order and rules, it was what made Qifrey a sworn enemy in his eyes.

Nothing Qifrey ever did could ever be good enough for the knights. His very existence in the hall threatened their position, it acted as a visual slight against the principles they dedicated their lives to upholding.

It made him mad. They’d never even tried to understand him.

“And what if it was my idea?” Olruggio stood his ground. “Maybe I dragged Qifrey into this. It’s possible that this ‘star pupil’ was in a rush to pass the librarian’s trial, right?”

“And yet you didn’t make it into the tower.”

The taunt startled him. Olruggio’s feet felt bolted to the ground.

“Qifrey did though,” Easthies continued. “I wonder if he used a certain witch who’s far too willing to risk his drawing hand for him to achieve that. He does, after all, appear to have that witch utterly wrapped around his finger.”

With practiced precision, Easthies lifted his spear and gestured to Olruggio’s hat. Or, more specifically, Qifrey’s tassel that hung from it.

“It’s cute that you like him. I just hope being wrapped up in your ribbon is enough for him, it’s not much different from our pennants after all,” he hummed. Satisfied.

It appeared Easthies knew he’d gotten under his skin. It prickled like thorns, numbing him.

Under his words lay a warning. 

He’ll betray you, would you make yourself an enemy and burn away his pennants?

For the first time, Olruggio felt stifled by the mist.

“It’s none of your business,” he bit out.

“Like you’re being subtle” Easthies rolled his eyes. “You dramatically swap tassels like you’re in a fairytale and expect nobody to say anything? Just don’t let your little crush get in the way of upholding the principles. If you won’t leave him alone, at least keep him in check. Get permission next time you sneak out to the tower, clear?”

Jeez. Fourteen going on thirty as always.

In a way, he understood that Easthies thought he was protecting Olruggio as a fellow witch. That didn’t make him like it, nor accept it. He and Qifrey both upheld the principles. He didn’t need to babysit his best friend who was the apprentice of a sage and had done nothing but attempt to understand the forbidden magic that had been forced upon him, not to replicate it but to find peace in it.

Regardless, he swallowed his frustration and spoke. “Clear.”

If he stomped his way back to his master’s atelier, nobody needed to know.

He slumped into the door to push it open, grumbling under his breath about nosy witches and annoying knights. It was only late afternoon, but he desperately wanted to retreat to his workroom so he could draw in peace or nap away his irritation.

Unfortunately, every witch who knew him seemed to be determined to run into him today.

“Brother Olruggio!”

At least this one was more pleasant than being stopped by Easthies.

“Hiehart, how many times,” he sighed. “You’re not my brother apprentice, just call me Olruggio. I told you, you have to share a master to be a sibling apprentice.”

“Mama said it was fine though,” Hiehart pouted.

Internally, Olruggio cursed his master. He should’ve known she’d gladly appease her son in favor of teasing Olruggio.

“Master Nahlana must’ve forgotten that you’re too young to be her apprentice, so stick to calling me Olruggio for now, okay?”

Hiehart stuck out his tongue as though he’d bitten into a green rainbow lemon. “I’m not gonna apprentice under Mama! I wanna be your apprentice, brother Olruggio.”

“And I’ve told you that won't happen. You’ll pass your first test in a few months, years before I even graduate - that’s not even considering the time it would take for me to pass the fifth test,” Olruggio sighed. Then, to placate those puppy dog eyes he couldn’t refuse, “I’ll help you study, though.”

“Olruggio!” Hiehart cried with a grin. “You’re the nicest witch ever, I wanna be just like you! You’re gonna be the best master one day, I'm so jealous. I wish Mama picked me from Silverwood grove later so I could be your student.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down,” he laughed.

Even down to his maintained belief in childish legends about where babies came from, Hiehart had always been a perfect picture of untarnished childhood joy. Olruggio’s fire would burn blue before he let anything destroy that. Since he started his apprenticeship under Master Nahlana, he’d taken to keeping a protective eye over him whenever he pottered around his mother’s atelier.

“Master Nahlana is probably meeting with some other witches about something, do you wanna practice some seals with me while we wait for her?”

Namely, she was caught up writing a report about his and Qifrey’s escape from the hall, but he wasn’t about to give Hiehart any ideas lest he followed in his footsteps.

“Please! I still can’t get a pyreball to float without burning the paper, can you show me how you do it again?”

“Sure, go sit down at my workstation. I’ll grab you some ink and parchment.”

With his smile wide, Hiehart nodded furiously and began to run past Olruggio until he came to a sudden halt.

The smile dropped from Hiehart’s face. His lip trembled, tears building at his waterline.

He lifted a shaking finger to point above Olruggio’s face.

“Olruggio.. Is.. Is that?”

Ah. The tassel.

Again.

Oh, how Olruggio craved his private workshop. None of his lessons had prepared him for the horrors of having to endure multiple uncomfortable conversations about his relationship to Qifrey. He wasn’t sure the library had any books on what to do when you semi-romantically swapped tassels with your best friend anyway.

He scratched his cheek and sighed. “Listen, I don’t wanna-”

“Does this mean you and Qifrey are best friends now?” Hiehart wailed. “I wanted to be your bestest friend!”

“Huh?!”

“Mama said only witches who wanna be together forever and ever and ever swap tassels! Who else would you wanna be with forever other than your best friend? That’s no fair, I always give you the orange lemon slices from my witch hat bread,” he pouted.

Hiehart punched his hands on his hips and intensified the pitiful gleam in his eyes.

Bless his innocent mind for not accusing him of having a crush on Qifrey. This, Olruggio could handle.. probably.

“That’s because you don’t like them,” Olruggio waved his hands in an attempt to calm the other boy. “I can have more than one best friend, okay? Just because I’m friends with Qifrey doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Hiehart grasped his chest, affronted. “But only one person can be your most bestest best friend!”

Oh, Olruggio was getting a headache. Desperately, he flipped through his options and inwardly groaned at the only solution that seemed promising.

He took a breath. “But Hiehart, that doesn’t matter.”

“Why?” Hiehart asked, eyes wide and pleading.

Olruggio took a deep breath to calm himself. “Because you’re my brother apprentice, we don’t need to be best friends, do we?”

Slowly, Hiehart’s face twisted into such a grand showcase of joy that Olruggio feared he’d pull a muscle.

“Brother Olruggio!”

“Yeah, yeah. Go sit down,” he laughed, far beyond the point of exasperation. “I won’t be able to help you once Master Nahlana gets back.”

“Okay,” Hiehart sang. “But, I still don’t totally agree with you. I’m gonna be your brother apprentice and your best friend. However, I’ll be nice and let Qifrey have his turn for now.”

“Y-you will, huh?”

Hiehart hummed his affirmation and skipped over to Olruggio’s workspace. Not a care in the world existed in that mind. Olruggio envied him. Yet, he also thanked every single lucky star that it had gotten him out of another tight spot explaining his increasingly public situation with Qifrey. 

He wished on a couple more that the teasing wouldn’t follow him past the next dawn.

Unfortunately, the stars couldn’t quite seem to hear him from the ocean floor.

The next day was spent as most were. Olruggio met Qifrey at the door of Beldaruit’s atelier, then they escaped to the library to find their next tome of seals to attempt and scurried into the corner table of a workshop, furthest from the nearest window that looked out into the endless ocean depths. Once they’d drawn until their fingers hurt, their hands stained with ink and wrists aching, they packed up their items and began the walk back to where they’d started.

Olruggio always walked Qifrey back to the atelier. Typically, it was under the excuse that he was prone to getting lost but by now he’d most certainly memorized the path. In actuality, it was a habit they were loath to fall out of.

Every week their fingers grew closer to touching as their hands swung by their sides in tandem.

Today, Qifrey had brought more books than usual and needed help transporting them to his private workshop inside. For Olruggio, it was a rare glimpse into the space that was so distinctly Qifrey that he couldn’t help but pour his eyes over every inch of wood and brick. He gazed upon it as though it were a place of legend, pictured the late nights Qifrey must’ve spent drawing seals, wincing when water spells disobeyed and flung droplets onto his skin.

It was peaceful. Just them, the soft thud of books hitting oak and the flicker of firelight from the lamps Olruggio had drawn the seals for. 

The steady clack, clack of a sealchair's hooves shattered the calm they’d found themselves basking in. The sound approached, the cadence in a slight hurry to reach them with haste.

“Olruggio! Why, it looks as though you’re my apprentice.”

“Master,” Qifrey sighed.

Pink dusted Olruggio’s face. “M-Mister Beldaruit.”

“Dear me, I thought it unwise to say anything the past few days because of the solemn look on my apprentice’s face, but the pair of you truly did exchange your tassels.” The clink of his sealchair’s hooves echoed in the stillness of the room as Beldaruit moved closer. “How unexpected, I never expected such a spectacle from you boys.”

His face was practically dripping with glitter, eyes and smile wide with excitement. Beldaruit looked as though he could burst with both laughter and relief.

“I thought you were being quiet because it’s none of your business,” Qifrey mumbled. He looked so unimpressed that Olruggio had to stifle a laugh at the sourness of his expression.

“Hm? Why would a quick tassel exchange conducted between two friends before a moment of strife be so strictly none of my business that I shouldn’t speak of it? Unless.. It’s something else. Oh, perhaps it’s something more.”

“I thought you were going to wait for me in the Argentgard,” Qifrey deflected with little success.

Something flashed in Beldaruit’s eyes when he appeared to notice the slight flush to Qifrey’s cheeks. A smile grew on his lips, laugh lines wrinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Oho, could this be?” Beldaruit tapped his finger against his temple with a teasing grin. “Has my darling apprentice become sweethearts with his dear friend?”

“Will you stop being so nosy, it’s not like that,” Qifrey huffed. 

“Hmm,” he laughed. “Then why else did you decide to exchange tassels, my dear Qifrey?”

“Stop pestering me about it! It’s only temporary, we’re gonna switch them back. It was just for good luck while we attempted the librarian’s trial.”

For a brief moment, the smell of petrichor rendered Olruggio nauseous. His lungs filled with breath but refused to release it, taking in oxygen until it burned and his head spun. The tips of his fingers tingled; he gripped his robes to dull the ache and shivered.

When Alaira had pried into their relationship, it made sense that Qifrey had put up a defensive wall to protect his heart from the eyes of others. His pain was palpable when it concerned his private feelings, so afraid of losing what he’d found that he held it in his hands, safe beneath his robes. A place where nobody could deduce the spells he wove, the nervous tapping of his finger against his quire. Sanctuary for the secrets he feared losing.

But, with Beldaruit.. as much as he put up a fuss, Qifrey trusted him.

What he spoke should’ve been the truth.

Olruggio felt cold. He stood still in shock, skin prickling like sinking into a hot bath after a trek in the biting wind. It ached. The robes around his shoulders choked him, the hem of his hat biting into his skull as it thrummed at the temples.

“If you insist,” Beldaruit sighed with an air of sadness. “I’ll be waiting for you in the Argentgard, see Olruggio back to the entrance. Miss Nahlana will get worried if we keep him too long, and I’m afraid I won’t survive another of her scoldings.”

“Yes, Master.”

Qifrey grabbed his wrist as he grumbled affirmatively to Beldaruit. Clearly keen to get away with haste, he tugged him towards the main parlor where the huge oak door stood proud with tens of doorknobs decorating the rough plane. When Olruggio lifted a hand to turn the knob that opened the door to the mezzanine that Beldaruit had installed after Master Nahlana’s first scolding, Qifrey stopped him. 

His fingers twitched as Qifrey gripped them.

“I don’t wanna give it back,” he mumbled.

Olruggio tipped his head to the side in confusion. He resisted the urge to wiggle his fingers into the spaces between Qifrey’s.

“The tassels. I don’t wanna switch them again.”

Qifrey was gonna give him vertigo if he kept flipping his emotions like this. 

“Oh! Um, that’s fine. I don’t want to either.”

Dumbfounded, Olruggio tried to swallow oxygen to quell the burn in his stomach, forgetting that it only served to feed the flames when Qifrey was inches away from him.

Wait. When had Qifrey gotten that close?

“Good,” he whispered. “That’s good.”

Words eluded him. All Olruggio could do was nod, mouth agape with his lip trembling. He inhaled the humid air between them. A nervous laugh peeled from his chest and danced in the stillness.

“Can I try something?” Qifrey asked.

It took no familiarity, no promises or clasped hands, no years of time spent walking side by side to understand his question.

Olruggio nodded, unable to keep his lips straight as they fought to curve so high that his cheeks hurt. A small puff of air left his nose as he scrunched his eyes closed in anticipation.

Qifrey pressed his nervous smile to Olruggio’s and kissed him. Their noses bumped and their teeth clacked, the contact only lasting a second.

Their hands were still joined. Another silent promise made in secret.

Master Nahlana couldn’t get him to concentrate in class for a week after that.

Somewhere around fifteen years later, Olruggio sat down on the edge of a temporary sleeping cot and ran his fingers over the strands of Qifrey’s tassel. It amazed him, that even after all that time it had never left his hat.

“Are you alright?” Qifrey asked.

He removed the doorknob from the entryway to lock the door behind him as he entered the bedroom they shared. His hat was tucked under his arm, the ribbon wrapped around the base.

Olruggio hummed. “Yeah, ‘m fine. Just thinkin’.”

“Dangerous,” Qifrey chuckled. “You shouldn’t ponder too hard about life so late in the evening, it doesn’t lead to trustworthy conclusions.”

“It’s less pondering and more just.. remembering.”

Qifrey hummed in acknowledgement and worked on removing his robes.

Sighing, Olruggio placed his witch hat on the floor beside the bed. The wind whistled outside the tent, the cold staved off by the fire magic he’d dutifully drawn to keep their space cozy and warm.

“I can’t believe we’re old enough to see the children we’re responsible for having their first crushes. It feels like we only exchanged tassels yesterday, Alaira’s probably still teasing us about it wherever she is,” he said.

“Goodness, is that what you were on about?”

“Huh!? What?”

“I was wondering why you were so insistent about leaving Coco alone about the bracelets. You were taking it personally,” Qifrey accused.

Olruggio spluttered in embarrassment. He didn’t like the glint that began to shine in Qifrey’s eye, nor did he like the way he began to point to the hat he’d discarded on the floor.

“Oho, Olly. Is that my tassel?” Qifrey pressed his fingers to his lips at the scandal. “Why, could it be that you like like me?”

“Qifrey.”

“Dear me, I thought we were merely agreeing to attempt the librarian’s trial together. Is that what you meant when you said you’d always stick by me?”

“Regretting that promise at the moment,” he grumbled.

“My, are you attempting to court me? Are the rumors true that you proposed marriage to me at the obscenely young age of fourteen?”

“Wait, was that actually a rumor?”

Qifrey laughed harder and ignored him.

“Oh, children these days! Exchanging tassels like we’re in a fairytale, I must’ve enchanted mine to command the Great Hall’s star pupil to do my bidding. And it worked, sometimes you listen to me when I tell you to get some sleep. How successful my cruel plan was.”

Wincing, Olruggio tugged Qifrey towards him. He hadn’t stopped laughing though, even the phantom weight of old judgment couldn’t stop Qifrey from enjoying himself.

“Don’t give me that look,” Qifrey chuckled. “The worst thing I ever got accused of was being a best friend stealer. I’m fairly certain I’m still technically involved in a decade-long rivalry with Hiehart over that. He insisted he’d be the next one to exchange tassels with you, I almost made him cry by mistake when I told him he’d be receiving my tassel if that happened.”

“Hiehart,” Olruggio groaned. He pulled Qifrey’s legs into his lap when he sat down. “I think you can consider that rivalry over, though. He said a few years back that he was happy to be the best friend that I don’t kiss.”

Qifrey fell backward and snorted. “Is that the condition for having two best friends? Having one you kiss and one you don’t?”

“There’s gonna be two I don’t kiss if you don’t quit teasing me.”

“Easy,” Qifrey hummed. “I quite enjoy the perks of being the one you do. Plus, after all that teasing you endured, it would be terribly embarrassing to switch our tassels back now.”

Leaning in closer, Olruggio ran his finger down the ridge of Qifrey’s jaw. Their smiles were inches apart, breaths tangling together and tickling their cheeks. In the warmth of their room, listening to the crackle of the hearth that Olruggio had lit, they allowed their chests to drain of worry and inhaled the calm into their lungs instead.

“People can tease me as much as they want,” Olruggio whispered. “Nothin’ is gonna make me switch our tassels back.”

A teary glint flashed in Qifrey’s eye in the firelight. His smile filled his cheeks, pressed up by the corners of his mouth as it split into a lovesick grin. 

They were older now. Their hands didn’t need to press promises into a clasp anymore. A comfort came with time, a reassurance of ‘always’ that didn’t need to be stoked with words. They lived their promises now, in the way they woke up under the same roof every morning and worked to protect it until they collapsed into bed and pulled bodies closer with aching limbs.

Qifrey cupped his cheek, ran his thumb across the skin and knocked their noses together. Mischief bloomed in his laughter.

“...Was that a marriage proposal?”

Olruggio pressed his smile to Qifrey’s and kissed him.