Work Text:
Qifrey comforts Olruggio in the living room of his little home. The cries of pain from upstairs and the midwives running up and down is a terrifying whirlwind of dresses and people.
“Olly, you’ll be fine. You’re going to live,” Qifrey says as he runs his hand up and down his lover’s back. He presses a sneaky kiss to Olruggio’s temple, checking for midwives beforehand.
“I can’t do this. I’m not ready for this. She got drunk and I let her talk me into it since I was also getting drunk and I’m NOT ready for this. We're only 17, Qif. We aren’t even adults yet,” Olruggio rants. “What if Adina dies? What if she and the baby are gone? I’m going to be considered cruel for not caring about my wife’s dead body and just going back into my work. What if she ends up like my mom, sick and suffering afterwards? What if I can’t care for her like I’m supposed to and she leaves me?” He spirals as his hands clamp onto Qifrey's.
“Olly, it will be fine. Adina is in good hands. I know you don’t love her, but you clearly care for her,” Qifrey reassures. Olruggio squeezes Qifrey’s hand tighter.
“I can’t do this. She’s going to realize how much I work. Adina’s going to yell at me for not being around. My kid is going to grow up without a father because I cannot drop my commissions at a moment’s notice,” Olruggio rants on. Qifrey walks him to the kitchen, grabbing a cup and pouring both of them some tea, sneaking in a little bit of wine.
“Drink this and shut up for five minutes,” Qifrey commands. “You’ll be fine.” Olruggio begrudgingly accepts the tea cup from his lover, slowly sipping from the full rim. Qifrey’s blue eye shines a bit as it softens. Olruggio leans in for a kiss after he sets the cup on the counter, Qifrey quickly returning it before breaking away. His hands grip the cup as Qifrey draws water roses and dancing animals.
The sun begins to set when the midwives come downstairs to retrieve Olruggio from Qifrey. He walks up the stairs into his loveless bedroom, a cold wintery room in the middle of summer, seeing his wife, disheveled and sickly, avoiding his gaze.
“Olly–” Adina coughs violently before shifting the bundle in her arms. “–your daughter.” He carefully steps towards them, each step measured and stable like flames on a candle wick. His warm hands softly wrap around the bundle, lifting it and holding his baby close.
“I–” he tries to spill out. His whole body locks as his daughter opens her eyes. The tears begin to drown his face, Adina carefully watching his reactions. Her bluely grey eyes wandered, fading hints of a sparky purple behind them. “Adina, she’s–”
“Beautiful, I know,” she says before looking out the window on the other side of the room. He doesn’t feel the wonder of the sunset on his wife.
Not like he would with Qifrey or his daughter.
“I know we didn’t discuss names, but maybe you have one?” Olruggio whispers as he sits on the side of the bed. Adina scoots herself away from him, a hiss and cough sounding from her as she moves.
“You pick,” she rebukes. Olruggio holds his daughter closer to himself.
All the wonder and love he has felt so far in his life bubbles and boils within him. So many names for such a small girl, one he just barely met and loves so much. Adeline, Agathe, Agnes, Agott, Belinda, Caroline, Catherine, Charlotte, Agott, Eleonora, Ella, Felicie, Agott, Gabirella, Hannah, Agott, Heidi, Ida and Isla, Johanna, Agott, Jessica, Katrina, Kora, Laura, Laurel, Agott, Marcella, Marianne, Agott, Nadya, Odette, Philomena, Agott, Rebecca and Rachel, Agott, Sabine, Seraphina, Sigrid, Agott, Thea, Agott, Theadora, Ursel, Ute, Agott, Valeria, Whilma, Yvonne, Agott, Agott, Agott.
Agott, a name he long pushed to the back of his mind when he was told it was an unacceptable name for any upstanding witch. He always loved the way it flowed off his tongue, the way the end was solid and never faltered. He would have kissed any chance to meet someone with the name.
“Agott. I always wanted to meet someone named Agott,” he whispers. His wife nods in acknowledgement before ignoring him again. Olruggio gets up with his daughter, squirming a bit in his arms, and walks down stairs to Qifrey.
Qifrey notices how Olruggio relaxes as he steps off the last stair. He slowly walks up to his lover. Qifrey feels the shift in Olruggio’s mood, joyous, happy, without the anxiety from an hour ago.
“Qifrey,” Olruggio sighs. “Meet my daughter, Agott.”
“Agott?” Qifrey asks, slowly wrapping his arms around Olruggio’s shoulders.
“I know. The name is–”
“It’s a good name for a good witch,” Qifrey interrupts. He leads his lover to the couch, shifting to support Olruggio’s arms.
“I wish you were her other dad,” Olruggio whispers into the silent house. The fire crackles slightly before Qifrey fills the room.
“I’m right here, always and forever. No matter what happens, I’ll be a part of Agott’s life,” he whispers back. The pair fall asleep on the couch, daughter in arms.