Work Text:
When Olly is deep in his creative process, it isn’t uncommon for him to be missing for a few days. The door connecting the hallway of the atelier has a sign taped to it in bold scribbled letters: ‘Do not disturb!’ The paper itself looks like an afterthought, crossed out circles of failed previous attempts and half crumpled.
The girls will stand before the door squinting at the drawing in hopes to decipher whatever it is that he may be working on. “Is it fire related?” Tetia pokes a finger at her pursed lips studying it closely.
“None of this has anything to do with fire.” Agott traces her own fingers along the scratched symbols.
“This one here says otherwise.” Coco points out, glancing over to double check that she’s right and the girls nod in agreement and the murmurs of speculation continue.
“Olruggio won’t accomplish anything if you four keep this up.” Qifrey called from the kitchen, startling the girls.
They scramble back towards the kitchen with mixed reactions about being caught. Though Coco and Agott keep their heads held high. “Well, then what is he working on?” Agott asks before sitting down at the table where she has left her ink and pen.
“Even I don’t know.” Qifrey moves to pull a loaf of bread from the storage box, freshly made from earlier this morning.
“Do you not even see Master Olly when he gets like this?” Coco leans forward on an elbow, hoping for answers.
“Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It’s best to leave him alone until he’s ready.” He slices the bread for the girls and leaves out some butter before searching for leftover cheese and fruit.
The girls nibble at their breakfast chatting about their speculations for the other witch’s creations and who they might be for. Qifrey can’t help smiling watching how animated they all are in their excitement, even Richeh smiles and laughs at some of their suggestions especially when they became more and more absurd in their silliness. Ah, youth.
Qifrey keeps himself busy that day with the girls, reviewing lessons they had covered from the previous week: ways to help with gardening. For the most part, this is up to nature itself, but there are a few spells they can cast to help with fertilizing. He debates whether how in-depth he wants to teach the girls about gardening, but really it’s the various tools that they can help create and assist farmers.
Afterall, it’s more science and craftsmanship than magic that’s needed.
It’s midafternoon when he calls for a break in lessons for the time being. The girls mostly sit under an old oak tree in the shade, taking a break from the late summer’s heat and sun. A pale eye studies them from afar with a small smile upon his face, proud of their tenacity and curiosity in learning magic not often used, but helpful. Perhaps for when they dare decide to start their own atelier. Now there’s a thought as he glances back at the quiet place they consider home.
Hm. It is quiet, isn’t it? Qifrey muses to himself and presses his lips into a flat line in thought. Olly would’ve told him if he is going to step out or not, or at least leave a note somewhere for him to find. Perhaps a visit is in order. That wouldn’t be too much of a bother, would it?
Without announcing anything to the girls, Qifrey heads back towards the atelier entering back to the kitchen only to find it just as he had left this morning. Nothing looks like it has been disturbed or eaten. It would be like Olly to not eat. The witch only hyper focuses intensely on whatever project it is he’s manufacturing and somehow manages to forget to take care of himself in the process.
Taking a wicker basket, Qifrey adds the leftover loaf, some jam, and an apple to share with Olruggio, assuming he has been fasting through the day and walks his way to the door closed with the rudimentary sign scribbled asking for privacy. One knock. Two knocks. A pause, but no answer.
“Olly?” Qifrey asks and knocks one final time, but still no answer. “Olly, I’m coming in.” He announces after no reply and crosses through the hallway connecting the buildings together over to Olruggio’s living space.
He sets down the basket on a table, glancing around the quiet room looking for any signs of life from his friend, only to receive still no answer. Nothing seemed to be out of order, just the usual chaotic mess of Olruggio’s quarters with supplies sitting around.
Finally taking the last few steps, he reaches the watchful eye’s work room and finds him: asleep at his desk, leaning forward hunched over upon folded arms. His hair is askew, most likely from running his fingers too often in frustration, but when Qifrey’s eyes unabashedly roam the man’s body, he spots one hand bandaged up.
Dear, what have you done now? Qifrey sighs and looks around the workroom in hopes to get an answer, but there’s only crumpled papers discarded around the room along with scorch marks in the wood of the table he’s resting upon, surrounded by various odds and ends: scraps of metal, cloth, and even pieces of wood. Nothing in particular looks like it belonged with each other and Qifrey really finds himself curious of what Olruggio’s next project is.
There’s a deep inhale and sigh from Olruggio, causing Qifrey to pause his inspection around his friend. It’s silly, really, as if he’ll be in trouble being caught in the same room and he releases his own held breath looking back over at the other man in question, but still finding him fast asleep.
He suddenly finds his feet softly padding over to the slumbering witch and smiles to himself seeing how relaxed and carefree Olruggio appears, though being slumped forward on his desk can’t be comfortable. Hesitantly, Qifrey reaches out his hand to comb through the dark unruly locks, unable to resist the silky strands, before tracing down his neck and gently nudging his shoulder. “Olly.” His voice is quiet and barely above a whisper, in hopes to not startle the man.
There’s barely a stir from Olruggio, the only indication is curling of his fingers under his cheek, maybe a slight furrow of his brow.
“Olruggio,” Qifrey offers a little louder accompanied by a squeeze to his shoulder, as he bends down to speak softly by his ear. “Wake up.”
This time Olly’s cerulean blue eyes slowly blink open only to widen at the realization of Qifrey’s close proximity to his face. “Hm!?” He promptly sits up right, though risked falling out of his chair if it hadn’t been for Qifrey’s hand steadying him in place.
There’s a light chuckle from Qifrey accompanied by a soft, but bemused smile. “How long have you been sleeping?”
Olruggio blinks again and looks around, “Perhaps half a clock mark.” He groans and rubs at his eyes, making more of a displeased face by accidentally scratching himself with the gauze fabric wrapped around his right hand.
“And that?”
“It’s nothing.” Olly replies curtly, clearly not wanting to worry his friend as he waves him off.
“Are you sure?”
“Certainly.” He stands up to deflect Qifrey from further questioning, pausing a moment to stretch out his back when he has his hand caught by the other witch, already tugging at the fabric to unravel it to have a definitive inspection. “I said it’s nothing!”
“Then you won’t mind if I have a look!” There’s a warning look behind his gaze as he moves faster to unwrap the gauze to examine the revealed skin, apparently reddened by a superficial burn.
“You should be more careful.” He turns Olruggio’s hand in his own, looking closely at the wound.
There may be a faint dusting of pink ghosting Olruggio’s cheeks, watching silently as Qifrey inspects his skin closely. “I am.” He huffs in annoyance, glancing away as he feels the heat in his cheeks. “You’re more concerned than I am!”
“Do you still have that tincture I made you some time ago?” He glances over the cabinets, as if it’ll reveal itself to him simply by asking.
“You’re stubborn, ya know that?” Olruggio gestures to the one off to the side. “I told you I’m fine!”
“Then stop protesting and let me take care of you.” It’s said in Qifrey’s finest no nonsense tone, daring him to question him as his gaze practically pierces through Olruggio’s.
He presses his lips into a flat line, as if to bite his tongue as Qifrey releases his hand and momentarily leaves to obtain the tincture, some salve, and cotton from the cabinet. Returning to sit upon the wooden chair Olruggio just vacated, he unscrews the top, sniffs at it before turning it upside down to saturate the cotton ball. “Hand, please.”
He holds his own out without a glance as he expects Olruggio to do as he’s asked, which he complies without protest this time.
The tincture stings his skin, causing Olly to sharply hiss in displeasure as Qifrey holds his hand tightly, not allowing the man to pull it away. He pauses, waiting for the pain to pass before gently and intentionally cleaning the marred skin.
“I didn’t want this.” Olly grumbles through his clenched teeth, watching as the other man takes his time swiping the cotton in circular motions from inside working outside the wound. “That stuff stings!”
“I’m almost done, dear.” Qifrey sighs as if dealing with one of the girls before rubbing some salve finally in a soothing motion. “You don’t want it to get infected.”
“It was fine!” Olruggio insists, though he finds himself unable to meet Qifrey’s gaze once again. Falling back into silence as Quifrey wraps his hand once again with the soft gauze and securing it with a knot. “Thanks.” They remain like that for a moment: Olruggio standing with his hand extended in Quifrey’s as he sits before him.
“Welcome.” Qifrey releases his hold, offering him a smile once again, where the skin crinkles around his visible eye behind his glasses. “Can I ask what you’ve been working on?”
“Not yet. Nothing seems to be sticking.” Olruggio relaxes his shoulders as he glances into the other room to spot the wicker basket sitting upon a table. It hasn’t been there before, and he goes to collect it before unwrapping the fabric covering the top and peeks through and perks up at the food.
“Not even a hint?” Qifrey props his head in his hand, and Olruggio swears he sees a slight pout to his expression.
“Not even one.” He offers him a grin. “Don’t think you can just make that face and I’m going to break and give you the answer.”
“Pity. I’m ever so curious.”
“You’ll find out soon enough!” Olly helps himself to the bread, slathering on some jam before hastily taking a bite and closing his eyes and humming his approval.
“You could’ve joined us for breakfast. The girls were asking about you.”
“I thought I was making headway in my progress.” Olly speaks with his mouth full, not even bothering to swallow first.
“And then you fell asleep?” Qifrey teases and is met with a nod.
“I’ll probably sleep a little more after this, since I was up all night.” Olruggio finishes off the piece of bread and peeks back into the basket, pleased to see the provided apple and promptly attempts to slice it into pieces, but the movement aggravates his burned hand and he winces.
“Allow me.” Qifrey practically glides over to where Olruggio stands and takes over, gently taking the knife from him and slices.
“Y’know Qifrey…” Olly now leans against the counter, crossing his arms as he watches him momentarily pause, clearly feeling his gaze upon him. “You can join me if you’d like.”
With the patience of a skilled witch who deals with four young apprentices on a daily basis, Qifrey finishes his task without another missed beat and places the knife on the countertop. Although in his blind periphery, there’s a slight tilt in his head as he ‘glances’ over. “As tempting as that may be, I’m afraid I have to take my leave here.”
He steals one of the slices and takes a bite before turning to face his friend. “I’m afraid those lazy days of lounging about are over.”
Olruggio only chuckles at the disappointed tone of Qifrey’s. “Figured I’d try.”
“Perhaps you can join the girls and me at dinner? They do miss you.” He pops the final bite of the apple slice in his mouth, chewing slowly to savor the sweetness of the fruit.
“…And you?”
“I did sneak in here, didn’t I?” Qifrey says matter-of-factly, taking a moment to press a final squeeze to Olruggio’s arm before stepping away and heading back towards the door leading to the hallway. He pauses before opening the door, “Do take care of yourself, please.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Olly replies gruffly, running a hand through his messy mop of hair. “I’ll see you later.”
But his gaze lingers on the door long after Quifrey leaves, quietly reminiscing of the days long past where they’d catch a nap together under some trees, huddled together shoulder to shoulder instead of taking their studies seriously. It happened quite often, though now as adults, it only served to be fond memories.
“A simpler time, eh?” He says out loud to no one in particular and glances back over to his desk at all the work waiting for him to perfect. Maybe one day Qifrey will let down the guard he supposedly has up and allow himself a chance to enjoy the moment and relax. But today is not that day and Olruggio will try again another time.