Chapter Text
“You’re not going to stay in the Great Hall?” Olruggio’s brow scrunches.
“I’m afraid not, I think I’d like to build an atelier somewhere in the countryside. It would be good for me, you know, to get out from under the ocean.”
Qifrey tried his best to make his smile look genuine, even if he can’t truly shake the grief of parting ways with his closest friend. He’d been putting it off long enough, clinging to the delusion that he could fend off the feeling of peace that being here with Olly brought to him.
“I see…”
He couldn’t quite decide if he was hurt by the lack of sorrow in Olly’s voice. On the one hand, it was easiest for him if there was no objection to his departure; but a small, selfish part of him had wanted Olly to ask him to stay.
“Not to worry though; I’ll come back to visit with my apprentices.”
That got Olly to smile, a small but wonderful lift of the corners of his lips, but it did little to quell the knot of anxiety tangling in Qifrey’s gut.
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It wasn’t until the morning of his move that Qifrey was looped in to why his closest friend had reacted in such a subdued manner.
Olruggio had spent the days between then and now peppering Qifrey with a never-ending torrent of questions.
“Where are you planning to build your atelier?”
Out in the countryside, perhaps in the meadow the two of them had found as apprentices.
“Would you build a window-way?”
Of course, how else would he travel to and from the Great Hall?
“Have you been assigned a watchful eye yet?”
It was this last question that puzzled Qifrey the most. He hadn’t even thought about being assigned a watchful eye, a witch living at the atelier to ensure the safety of the apprentices, why was Olly so keen to know what poor soul had been banished to the countryside with him?
Now it made sense.
Olruggio stood, grinning from ear to ear and weighed down by his luggage, waiting for him at the window-way. Beside him was Beldaruit, smiling impishly at the shock plastered across Qifrey’s face.
“Surprise!” Beldaruit chirped, gesturing grandly at the raven-haired witch. “Your trusty watchful eye, ready to accompany you out into the world of education.”
For a moment, Qifrey’s heart soars, but it’s cut short by the twitch of Silver-wood branches somewhere deep within him. His gut turns at the feeling, anxiety clutching at his heart and returning him to reality.
Olruggio cannot come with him, it defeats the whole purpose of relocating from the Great Hall.
But the idea of turning him away is agonizing.
So instead Qifrey smiles back at his friend, asks why he hadn’t been filled in on Olly’s plans to come with him to build his atelier, thanks him for accompanying him on this new chapter of life.
Olly shrugs humbly, unwilling to accept the thanks he’s offered.
“I need a consistent paycheck between contraptions.” He rubs awkwardly at the nape of his neck. “Besides, you really think I’d let my best friend go out and adventure in the countryside without me?”
Qifrey simply couldn’t find it in him to turn Olruggio away.
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The night sky is lit by scattered stars when the two witches step through the window-way to the island above the Great Hall. A Pegasus carriage stands waiting for them, and at the sight of it Olruggio barks a relieved laugh.
“Oh thank the gods, I was worried we would be stuck hiking all the way to the meadows. I was starting to really reconsider if I needed all my tools.”
“Put your mind at ease, my friend, we don’t have to rough it quite yet.” Qifrey chuckles, lifting Olly’s luggage pack from his shoulders to stash away in the carriage.
The flight over the countryside is filled with fond reminiscences of past mischief and adventures; reckless treks into the outside world travelled by a moody childish Qifrey and an Olruggio identical in kindness and stubborn nature to his current self.
The branches of the Silverwood churn within Qifrey’s chest; stretching uncomfortably at the sound of Olly’s laugh, writhing at the warmth he feels when the man across from him speaks his name. When the carriage thuds against the grassy floor of the meadow, it is a relief to put some space between himself and his companion. The two stand at the crest of one of the rolling hills, the shimmering green landscape before them taking shape as the sun broke the horizon.
“You know, I forgot how beautiful it is here.” Olruggio’s face was drawn into a soft smile.
Though Qifrey could acknowledge that the fading of the stars in the sky was a result of the ascent of the sun, to him it seemed Olruggio’s arrival had dimmed their light.
“I’m thankful to be lucky enough to come with you, old friend. I’m afraid my envy would have drowned my fondness for you if I’d stayed at the bottom of the sea while you built yourself a new life in such a peaceful place.”
“It was foolish of me to ever consider leaving you behind. Life here could never be fulfilling alone.”
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As a builder at heart, Olly wasted little time before setting to work on the Atelier
“Right, so I’ve gone through the trouble of drawing you some schematics for the construction of the atelier.”
Olruggio unfurled a large scroll of paper across the rickety picnic table they had patched together with spare materials delivered the evening before. Qifrey sat, mouth agape, taking in the delicate designs his rugged friend had laid out before him.
“Happy to make changes if you think it needs some adjusting, I know my interpretations of what you wanted for the place can only be so accurate. I’m a witch, not a mind reader after all.”
There are no words Qifrey could summon in response. The blueprints were stunning illustrations of the atelier Olly had designed, complete with footnotes on landscaping for Qifrey to consider.
It was true that the floor plans weren’t quite as he had imagined his atelier to look, in fact they were far better than the simple cottage he had been picturing when he had envisioned his life in the countryside. Dormitories for apprentices, a spacious kitchen for Qifrey to cook meals, and a garden in the yard to grow herbs and ingredients. The only addition that wasn’t a direct improvement on his vision was the attached workshop and extra living space. Noticing his extra attention to that alteration, Olly shifted awkwardly on the bench.
“I hope you don’t mind my adding a separate space for myself; figured I would be up late into the night and didn’t want to keep you, or your apprentices, awake tinkering with my contraptions in the main atelier.”
“It’s… it’s perfect.”
Qifrey grinned so widely his entire face ached with the effort of it, and Olly flushed bright red at the sight.
“It’s nothing, really just a project to fill idle time between orders is all…”
But all the humility in the world couldn’t erase the thought and energy poured into this. The kindness of Olruggio to have created such a beautiful space for them was something he could never shrug off or convince Qifrey to dismiss.
This was what made having him here so dangerous to Qifrey.
“Looks like we have quite the project ahead of us old friend.”
The days following were a slow grind of labor; the lack of magic to assist in building making the process feel tedious and unending. What made the whole thing bearable was the company. Meals cooked on open flame with foraged ingredients and conversation during the work kept the two from letting exhaustion get the better of them.
That, and a good night's sleep, even if it only truly benefitted Olruggio.
Before the atelier’s structure was complete, their nights were spent in a canvas tent covered in rain repellent seal. Qifrey lay awake, listening to the soft snores of Olruggio beside him, unable to convince himself to sleep for fear that when Olly woke, he would be shaded from the morning sun; not by the tent, but by Qifrey’s branches fanned out above his head.
The worst of these nights had been when, in the lull of sleep, Olruggio had murmured Qifrey’s name. The sound had been barely audible; had he not been wide awake with anxiety, he might not have heard. But there it was, nestled between thunderous snores.
“Qifrey"
So sleep was little comfort to Qifrey. But soon enough the atelier took shape, finally inhabitable, and he was given the relief of nights spent safely distanced from his best friend. Not that distance could truly shake from his mind the sound of his name whispered in the tent.
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Finally, they had reached their last task before they could settle into their new home, the etchings on the atelier’s window-way. Qifrey would have been content to etch the symbols onto the circular frame on his own, let Olly sleep in through the dawn and into the afternoon. But when he descended the stairs to the window-way landing, with the sun just beginning its ascent into the sky, he found his friend already at work.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you up so early.”
At the sound of his voice, Olly glanced over his shoulder, his tired eyes fixing on Qifrey, who stood lingering on the last stair before the landing.
“I’m always eager to see a project completed, it’s the greatest part of building something.” His voice was gravelly with the remnants of sleep.
Qifrey just nodded, drawing his sear-needle wand from his belt and joining the other witch at the window frame. They worked in a comfortable silence, the soft hiss of turning the nested stone circles and the steady whisper of the sear-needles were Qifrey’s only reprieve from his keen awareness of the man beside him. The way he held his breath with each line drawn, the warmth radiating from him in the chilled basement air. The Silverwood, twitching threateningly every time he fixed his one good eye on Olruggio, made him feel nauseous with anxiety.
And then it was done. The raven-haired witch stood to rotate the frames, and with the alignment of the seals, the window-way opened to the landscape of the Great Hall’s Island. Olly grinned over his shoulder and, before Qifrey could sidestep, threw his arms around his frame in celebration. The Silverwood swirled angrily in his chest.
“We did it! Finally connected back to the outside world.”
When he was finally released from the bear hug, Qifrey sucked in a gulp of air in an attempt to quell the churning in his gut.
“Are you eager to escape the countryside already?”
He asked playfully, though he was bracing himself for the answer despite being unsure which would be the more distressing response; confirmation that Olly yearned to leave his side already, or that he was committed to staying here.
“Not at all, just thrilled to not have to use sylph shoes to trek to and from customers anymore.”
Olly laughed, a warm genuine sound that vibrated through Qifrey’s chest and stirred up the Silverwood limbs once more.
“Glad to hear you haven’t grown sick of me yet.”
“We have a while yet before we begin to bicker like an old married couple.” Olly continued to chuckle. “We haven’t even left the honey-moon phase, my dear Qifrey.”
An old married couple.
Qifreys stomach twisted again, though this time it wasn't the work of the cursed wooden sapling in his gut.
This arrangement was going to be torturous.
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