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When living down in the Great Hall, sometimes it’s difficult to decipher the seasons. The air is regulated and stays at a steady temperature for most of the year to provide comfort to all its inhabitants. There are ways to tell, if one wants to go out of their way to figure it out instead of asking. Paying attention to the travelers and witches that descend from the above world, someone can watch for certain signs on that person—the color of the leaves caught in their hair or damp dew spots on their hems.
Qifrey isn’t too concerned about it for the most part, except when he’s bored. And he’s only bored whenever Olruggio or Alaira aren’t around (not often). If he fixates on it too much then the Great Hall transforms into something stifling. It’s not like they’re trapped here, but the isolation that comes with a city under the sea can be…too much to think about for someone as existential as Qifrey.
It’s a shame though. The changing of seasons gives Qifrey an appreciation for the outer world and provides a ray of light in an otherwise bleak outlook on it. A switching between the ground’s color palettes, tilling the soil for something new, every year reminds Qifrey that it can be possible to start over.
Even so, he’s never felt anything except indifference, with the occasional bout of crushing disappointment about it. No big deal. Until he sees his dearest and closest friend Olruggio staring out a windowway with the most whimsical expression he’s ever seen.
It happens by accident, really. The two of them are taking one of their aimless strolls around the Hall, not caring where their feet take them so long as their energy is being released and they’re in one another’s presence. Suddenly, Olruggio isn’t walking beside him anymore—he’s over an arm’s length away, shoulders now facing parallel to the wall.
“Oru? Did you get stuck to something on the floor back there?” Qifrey teases, backtracking to where Olruggio’s frozen in place. When he doesn’t get a response, he knocks his elbow into Olruggio’s side with a teasing grin as he turns to see what captivated his friend. It’s an off room that contains…an empty windowway?
Hm. He hadn’t noticed they were walking past one. Qifrey tends to not notice things when Olruggio is there, as most of his attention latches onto his friend.
Olruggio’s head tilts slightly, dark overgrown fringe falling into his eyes. “Someone went through and it was so bright out there. It should be winter by now and I—well, I haven’t seen snow since…”
Ah, Qifrey understands. It doesn’t sound like Olruggio necessarily wants to elaborate more than that so Qifrey helps him redirect. “Do you want to go take a peak? I could stand watch if that would help.”
“No. No, it’s alright.” Olruggio shakes his head as if to clear it and steps back. His jaw is tense and his movements rigid, which causes Qifrey to frown. Any alteration to Olruggio’s demeanor when he lies is subtle, practiced to be that way, but Qifrey knows all his tricks by now. “I think I’d rather stay inside for now.”
That much is true, at least. Qifrey recalls passing mentions of Olruggio’s past, fleeting words that he brushes off as soon as they’re uttered. Something…happened in a snowstorm; Qifrey hasn’t quite put together exactly what. It would make sense that Olruggio would be a little wary of it, but he is also clearly enamored with it.
Hm. Well, maybe one of these days he’ll convince Olruggio to sneak out for the snow—when Olruggio is ready. They’re still young, so any repercussions will be mild. However, if Olruggio isn’t ready then he simply isn’t.
“Okay,” Qifrey says gently. He wraps his fingers around Olruggio’s wrist to tug him along. “Let’s look at it at a different time though, yeah? I don’t…hm. I guess I haven’t ever been in the snow. Not that I can recall.”
Olruggio allows himself to be dragged along by Qifrey’s loose and steadfast grip. “Wait, you haven’t?!”
A little laugh bubbles from Qifrey’s chest. He can’t help but think how cute Olruggio is when he’s indignant (or maybe he’s like that all the time—still, Qifrey has to acknowledge it every time either way). “Nope! But that’s alright. You’ll take me one day, right?”
Olruggio’s wrist shifts so that their palms press together, fingers lacing in one another’s. Qifrey almost keeps his head angled to hide his blush, but the temptation to gaze at Olruggio is too much for him to bear. There’s a determined glint in his eyes and he squeezes Qifrey’s hand. “Of course. I will, I swear.”
Qifrey contains his laugh (barely) at how serious Olruggio is about it. “Thank you.”
After that, Qifrey expects for the thoughts of snow and winter to die down, to lie in wait for one of them to bring it up again. That, unfortunately, is not the case at all. Instead, Qifrey’s mind, all of a sudden, is overridden with thoughts of Olruggio bundled up in a heavy cape and gloves, snowflakes melting on his rosy cheeks and catching in his long lashes. It stirs in his stomach, the thought of Olruggio laughing, pink due in equal parts to the giddiness and the cold.
Qifrey lasts a grand total of two days before he decides that he has to do something about it. With that one decision, all of his free time for the next month dissipates and transforms into planning a snow day with Olruggio…while staying inside like Olruggio wants.
In order to make that happen, it’ll take lots of work with water magic. Lovely. Qifrey still isn’t comfortable with it, not by a long shot. However, thoughts of Olruggio’s awed face as Qifrey presents him with special magic that’s been developed just for him, drives Qifrey through many sleepless work nights, alone with water.
Qifrey, after several weeks of trials and errors and annoyingly knowing looks from his professor when asked for his help, nails the snow glyph. It’s much more complicated than he’d initially thought and he still hasn’t truly perfected the technique. The magic can’t recreate an exact copy of nature, can’t mimic the individuality of every little flake, at least not with Qifrey’s current skill level.
It’s enough for him though and he immediately sets to work finding a space to start practicing on a larger scale. Finally, one day Qifrey decides that all his work is complete and now all that’s left to do is execute his plan…except he doesn’t have a set one.
Olruggio is shockingly difficult to surprise, and Qifrey hadn’t thought of much further ahead other than to keep Olruggio from finding out about his practice.
As much as Qifrey wants a plan, his excitement for a potential day in snow with Olruggio is too much for him to handle. He approaches his best friend the very next day to asks him if he wanted to go on another walk. Predictably, Olruggio says yes and allows Qifrey to lead him through the grand marble halls.
Qifrey wasn’t nervous before, but the closer they get to the room Qifrey set aside for this, he wonders if Olruggio will like it. There was equal parts longing and trepidation in Olruggio’s eyes when looking at the snow. Qifrey doesn’t plan on raining it down on him suddenly so he won’t have a negative reaction to it, right? Surely not, surely not, Qifrey tries to assure himself…but what if?!
“Did you need something? Besides a walk, I mean,” Olruggio’s voice breaks him out of his internal screaming. Oh, they’re here. “You seemed pretty urgent earlier. Is…is everything okay? Is there something I can do?”
Qifrey fiddles with the door handle, maneuvering it in the exact way where the metal latch won’t screech and pushesit open completely. “Ehehe, nothing urgent! Guess I was just excited to show you what I’ve been learning?”
Olruggio nods in understanding, though wariness still ghosts over his expression. “What have you been—”
Before Olruggio can finish his question, Qifrey shuts the oak door and completes the ring of a glyph. The effect is immediate and the temperature drops. Olruggio, startled, yelps and pulls his cape tighter around his shoulders.
“Sorry,” Qifrey mutters as he retrieves a pile of parchment papers and sits in the middle of the bare room’s floor. “Do you want to sit?”
“I want to know what you’re up to,” Olruggio says, sitting down facing Qifrey anyways.
Qifrey thumbs the stack of papers in his hands, bites his lip with nerves. “Well…I wanted to give you something but now that I’m thinking about it, it might not be the best thing to surprise you with. I think I should have said something before but…slightly too late for that. I’ve been working on something for you.”
Dark eyebrows furrow. “O…kay?”
Sucking in a deep breath, Qifrey reaches for Olruggio’s wrist and sets a piece of parchment in his upturned palm. It takes only one tiny flick from his pen for the glyph to be complete and for a small flurry of snowflakes to burst from the keystone.
Qifrey’s eye never leaves Olruggio’s face the whole time—in part to search for any signs of discomfort, in part to see how beautiful he’ll look.
Olruggio’s expression is open and sweet and brightens the entire room, even in the low light of an abandoned lamp. The blue of his irises almost sparkle with awe as he follows the snowflakes on their journey—landing on his skin, his robes, and some finally down to the floor between them.
Qifrey quickly completes another ring, this one to a more sizable glyph, and when the snow floats up, it spreads out like a cloudy umbrella, then rains down on them both. (Thankfully, Qifrey gathered up enough of his mind to hide the rest of the papers in his cloak so they wouldn’t be ruined.) With a pace as steady as the falling snow, a smile grows on Olruggio’s mouth. His flushed cheeks stretch to accommodate the incredibly happy grin.
A small laugh falls from Olruggio’s lips and, for a brief moment, he allows himself to close his eyes and feel the snowflakes kissing his face, clutching to his brows and lashes like Qifrey knew they would. It’s the gentlest thing Qifrey has ever witnessed and he…oh, he adores Olruggio with everything he can muster.
“You learned this for me,” Olruggio whispers. It’s somewhere near a question and also a confirmation statement at the same time.
Qifrey’s smile turns wobbly and a hair too close to lovesick than he should be comfortable with. “I did. What do you think? Not too bad for someone with way less experience than you?”
Olruggio doesn’t take the bait. Once more, Qifrey is floundering at a very serious Olruggio staring right at him. “You’re amazing.”
The squeak that bursts out of Qifrey is nothing short of humiliating but Olruggio doesn’t even seem to hear it, let alone acknowledge it. His gaze pins Qifrey in place as much as physically restraining him would. Another small noise builds in his throat, try as he might to tamp it down.
Olruggio is going to kill him. He’s going to kill Qifrey with his honest compliments-that-Olruggio-says-aren’t-compliments-they’re-simple-facts. He’s going to kill Qifrey because he’s every bit as contrasting to the snow—with his inky hair, yes, but mostly with the warmth emanating from Olruggio’s very core.
Only, Olruggio isn’t done yet. “You’re amazing. Show me more.”
Qifrey cannot help but grin. “Of course.”
They spend the rest of the day trapped in a constant stream of snow flurries. Their robes soak through and chill against their skin. Beldaruit catches them and thoroughly scolds them for their carelessness, fretting over the possibility of them acquiring a cold. Qifrey won’t hear the end of it for a while, he’s sure.
But Olruggio doesn’t seem upset. Most importantly, Olruggio is smiling. And so is Qifrey.