Archive of Our Own

It was late in the evening, the torrid summer sun slowly leaving place to a milder and more pleasant starry sky. Qifrey was busy tidying the kitchen after he and the girls had enjoyed their dinner and the apprentices had retired to their rooms for the evening. Usually, they shared their tiding duties. He had figured it would build discipline and comradery in his young apprentices, but tonight he needed the work to occupy his mind.

There were only five sets of plates and bowls, five glasses, five sets of cluttery on the table. Olruggio hadn’t joined them as he was away on a commission.

A commission he was supposed to have come home from two days prior.

Not that it was an unusual situation, Olruggio’s work trips often ran longer than expected, especially when the commissioner happened to be some lordling of the small nobility spending everything they had in hiring a witch for some petty show of power, just like the one who had required Olruggio’s services this time around, and yet, Qifrey couldn’t help but worry a little.

Olruggio usually sent word whenever he was delayed. Never by how much, because not even a witch could predict the whims of nobility, but he would make sure to let him them know if he had to stay for multiple days beyond schedule.

Yet, this time he had received nothing.

Qifrey didn’t want to be overbearing. Olruggio was a fully grown man and an accomplished witch, he was more than capable of looking after himself and he had no obligation to inform them of his whereabouts.

A sliver of jealousy crept in his heart. What if he was enjoying himself with someone?

Someone that wasn’t him.

On one hand, the possibility of Olruggio finding happiness, finding someone to have a bit of fun with, even if only for a couple of nights, filled him with dangerous relief.

It would be better for Olruggio to finally let him go. Kind, bright Olly deserved so much more that someone broken like himself.

He wanted to be that person for him, he wanted to be able to love him freely, fully, unconditionally. He wanted him more than he had ever wanted anything in his life, besides maybe, getting rid of this damned plant that was stealing his chance at true happiness. But he couldn’t. He knew that if he’d ever let himself get too carried away the Silverwood would sprout and rob them of everything.

Having to erase the memories of his condition was painful enough, but the idea of being the only one to remember a soft touch, a loving whisper or the heat of their bodies against each other’s would straight up kill him. He’d rather just have the roots take him at that point, but that would mean break his promise and leaving Olruggio behind and he couldn’t bear to do that to him either. And so, this dance of love and longing, never quite crossing the invisible line of lovers, they had been playing for the past fifteen-ish years was their only option.

But the loneliness gets tiring. He knew it well.

There haven’t been many occasions, but over the years, even he had tried to relieve himself in the arms of strangers that he hadn’t really care about nor that had cared about him. But the pleasure in those acts was fleeting. Devoid of softness, care and love, lustful yet empty ministrations. Wrong weights, wrong rhythms, wrong angles, from men who had cared for nothing besides their own satisfaction, but still good enough to make him come undone with a different name and face in his mind and soul. Often overcome by the guilt and disgust with himself at having someone he didn’t love, touch him in ways he had only ever wanted one person on this earth to touch him like. But admittedly, that did wonders to quell the Silverwood rooting inside him, buying him a bit more time of misery without having to hurt his best friend. It still wasn’t as effective, of course, nothing was as good a cure and cause for his spouting as Olruggio was, but the double function of those few thirsts was a good enough alternative to spare him even a single memory wipe.

Olruggio didn’t suffer from his condition, though.

Surely, over the years, he must have had occasions to fully fulfill his needs, nothing too serious or stable clearly, or he would have known, but Olruggio is a handsome charming man, he’d have no troubles finding a suitable partner whenever he wished. It was logical. It was better that he did, actually, and the idea filled him with bitter jealousy.

He truly was hopeless.

He sighed, dispelling the image of his Olly finding pleasure in some nobleman’s bed.

This wasn’t fair. He had no right to call him his, not after everything he had already taken from him.

Besides, despite his vivid fantasies, he had no idea what had actually happened, and there was still the issue of the missing notice of his delay. No matter what he was up to, Olruggio wasn’t the kind of man to simply get wrapped up in his own desires and forget to let them know he was at least okay.

Maybe the patron had him so drown in work that he had simply forgot to send word? Or maybe he had caught the eye of another noble requesting his magical services at once and he hadn’t had yet time to inform them?

A couple of days of delay were nothing to worry about, surely.

And yet, Qifrey had been feeling an unexplainable sense of dread since the morning of Olruggio supposed day of return.

A darker possibility for his delay gnawing at the back of his head, one he’d rather not entertain.

Normally, he’d begrudgingly welcome the unpleasant feeling of a pit slowly opening in his stomach. After all, anxiety meant he could be spared from the crawling of the roots sleeping beneath his skin but if it meant something might have happened to Olruggio… Well, he’d rather have to endure the writhing in his insides after sharing wine too late in the night.

He swayed his head to shoo the thought away as he finished sweeping the floor, the full moon now taking her place in the night sky and gently illuminating the kitchen through the window, the fire in the hearth casting games of light and shadows further into the room.

This was ridiculous.

He picked up the done dishes to put them away as his thoughts kept running wild.

They had been apart for far longer and in way more dangerous situations too.  Olruggio had just gone to assist a noble who wanted a new fancy magical chandelier for his ball room, nothing that bad could have happened to him in just a couple of days!

“Ah Qifrey! You’re still up, good. I’m back.”

Olruggio’s gruff accent had called from behind him, as if his thoughts had finally summoned him. Clearly, he had simply entered the kitchen after have come home via windowway.

Despite being almost startled by Olruggio’s sneakiness, Qifrey couldn’t hold the smile that bloomed on his lips as relief washed over him at the sound of his dear friend’s familiar voice.

‘See… Overthinking as always, I’m home.’ His own brain teased him with Olly’s voice.

Qifrey turned toward Olruggio while still holding the plates he was about to put away in their cupboards before his friend had pulled him out of his thoughts with his arrival.

“Olly! You’re ba-”

As he turned to face Olruggio, his breath caught in his throat, his bright smile morphed into a startled frown and the plates slipped from his fingers and shattered on the kitchen floor in a loud crash in the silence of the late evening.

Qifrey’s heart almost stopped right then and there.

Olruggio was standing in the middle of the kitchen, his left arm in a white sling hanging from his neck. It didn’t seem broken, or at least, Qifrey noticed it wasn’t in a cast, just normal bandages that reached from his shoulder to half way into his upper arm could be seen peeking from in between the sling, his perpetually indecently open blouse and  his bell sleeve now rolled far above his elbow. As Qifrey’s sight moved up toward his eyes, with worry, he noticed that the left side of his face was slightly swollen, complimenting it, a fading bruise on his cheekbone, his usual eyebags darkened on the left side in a bloody shade.

He looked like somebody had beaten him half to death and yet there he was, like nothing in the world was wrong, scratching his neck with his right hand the way he does when he’s nervous or embarrassed about something, one of his lopsided embarrassed smiles coloring his lips and his midnight blue eyes thankfully clear and warm as always.

Qifrey’s dread came back in full force, alongside a seething rage at whoever was responsible for this, but that could wait. For now, he needed to get close to Olruggio, to make sure he was alright.

In the blink of an eye, Qifrey closed the distance between them, broken plates forgotten on the floor and trembling hands reaching for his face.

Oh, how he wanted to take his pain away in a hug, or better yet with soft kisses on his bruises.

But he couldn’t. That would bring him too much comfort and he really didn’t want to risk to have to hurt his star in another way this evening, so he clenched his treacherous hands into fists right before he could cup his face, bringing them close to his chest as he tried to compose himself, but miserably failing at it, as he could hear the worry in his own voice as he spoke.

“Stars, Olly! What happened to you?”

“Oh… It’s nothing really. I promise it looks worse than it is.”

Olruggio reached out his right hand to him, gently placing it on his shoulder, as if Qifrey was the one that needed to be comforted right now.

“Nothing!? You are all beaten up!”

“Nothing’s broken! Look, I’ve already seen a doctor. It’s just a shoulder sprain… nothing a couple of weeks of rest can’t fix.”

Qifrey sighed, half in relief half in disbelief. Only Olruggio would try to downplay an injury that would require weeks to heal. At least it wasn’t his drawing arm.

“And how exactly did you manage that?”

Qifrey couldn’t help the slight tone of annoyance coloring his voice.

“Oh… Uhm… That’s- That’s not really important. What’s important is that I’m fine and I’m starving! Do you have any leftovers?”

Qifrey watched as Olruggio clumsily tried to change the subject, making his way to the pantry with a sheepish blush on his face.

From his reaction he guessed he could cross out having to unleash a river on the estate of Lord whatever-his-name-was. This didn’t seem like Olruggio was trying to hide an abuse from his patron or a run in with the brimcaps but rather that he was trying to hide something embarrassing, just like he did when they were boys in the Great Hall. His annoyance subsided leaving place to budding intrigue.

He knew he was the last person who had any right to pry into someone else’s secretes, especially Olruggio’s, but the curiosity and worry in his heart won and he couldn’t stop himself from lightly teasing his oldest friend.

“Olly…”

“… Qifrey.” Olruggio said suspiciously, while turning to face his friend. He had clearly recognized the water witch’s tone. The one that spelled trouble and mischief.

“Did you fly into a wall on you way back?” Qifrey singsonged.

Olruggio flinched at the question.

Qifrey was ready to admit, it was a low blow, but he couldn’t help himself.

It had happened many, many years ago, during one of their very first escapades from the Great Hall. They were flying home in a hurry, trying to get back before the morning bells and Olruggio got a bit too confident while urging Qifrey to keep up, missing a house behind a tight turn that resulted in a face-first crash with the masonry and a black eye. Not one of the famous Olruggio of the Torch’s greatest moments, but a shared memory of youthful silliness that Qifrey treasured.

“Wha-!? That happened ONCE! Are you seriously still on about that?!”

“Well… Did you?”

“No!”

Qifrey just kept silent, a smug smile pinning his friend.

“Ugh… Fine!  You win!” Olruggio shrugged defeatedly. “I fell from a horse.”

Surprise filled him immediately. That didn’t make much sense.

“You fell... from a horse?”

“Aye.” Olruggio deadpanned him from his place against the counter in front of the pantry, his Ghoderian accent shining through even more than usual.

After a beat of silence, without further elaboration Qifrey started to fish for more informations.

“Olly… You’re the best rider I know.”

“I’m the only rider you know. Not something most witches need to learn, with our windowways and sylph shoes.”

And it was true. Qifrey doubted that there was another witch in the Great Hall that even knew the first thing about riding a horse, let alone one that could be as proficient at it as Olruggio. Sylph shoes, windowways, even Pegasus carriages were much more convenient and prominent modes of travel among witches and if everything else failed, they could still rely on a handcrafted spell to suit their needs. But outside of their gilded halls and cities, things were different, especially up north in Ghodery where the inclement weather more often than not meant that flying was impossible and knowing how to ride a horse could mean the difference between life and death.

And Qifrey knew how well Olly could ride.

He had seen him first hand more than once, and he had always thought he looked like a knight or prince while on horseback. Olruggio was a handsome man, that much was a fact even without factoring his bias, but Qifrey wouldn’t really call him elegant. He was a bit of a mess more often than not, in fact, except for when he was casting and when he was riding. In both instances, Olruggio exuded a refined air, focused and confident yet incredibly warm. It was a difficult image to describe with anything but the word beautiful.

Besides, Olruggio, warm and kind as always, liked horses and riding. He had even given him some pointers on the basics once they had moved in the Naakiwan Downs for him to be prepared if the need to ride were ever to arise. Which only made the idea of him ending up so battered because he fell from a horse even more ridiculous.

“You know what I meant… What happened?”

“Ugh… It was me damn fault. I shouldn’t have left me guard down with that mare.”

Olruggio shrugged frustratedly as he moved from the counter to one of the chairs at their dinner table, finally prepared to recount what had happened to him.

For once, he surprisingly got along with his patron.

The man, Lord Raumo, had wanted a chandelier that projected the night sky on the ceiling of his ball room to impress a lady he wanted to court.

At first, Olruggio had thought him to be the usual vain young noble wanting to show off his wealth, but unlike many of his patrons, he turned out to be humble and amicable, and a romantic at heart. He knew of the lady’s love for the stars and wanted to gift them to her in any way he could.

Olruggio was easily won over by the man’s romantic request and the two hit it off in a way that rarely happens between patron and witch. He wouldn’t go as far as to say that they had become friends, but they were likeminded enough that the discussion sometimes strayed away from the commission and into more personal topics.

That’s how Olruggio learned of his patron’s love for horses.

After the successful completion of his commission, Olruggio was invited on a horseback trekking outing with his patron and he was glad to accept. It was supposed to be just a few clock marks round trip on the morning of his planned return to the atelier, nothing fancy, but Olruggio hadn’t had the chance to ride in a while and he had missed it. Besides, he figured it would foster good ground for future work with one of the few patrons he actually liked.

In hindsight, he should have also figured he was getting himself into trouble as soon as he saw the horse the lord had prepared for him.

Lord Raumo had a fairly big stable in his castle, with many beautiful and well cared for horses but the one he had reserved for Olruggio that day was probably the most gorgeous one in the entire stables.

It was a rather tall mare, slender but with toned muscles and a shiny grey coat. She was clearly still young since the coat was more of a smoky grey than a pure white, with slightly darker areas on her rump and legs and sparce strands of black in her mane and tail. She had clear sky-blue eyes that immediately conjured in his mind the beautiful face of a certain witch who was surely waiting for him back home.

She was gorgeous.

And she was pissed.

She kept her ears slightly turned back against her head, barely standing still for more than a few seconds, she kept trying to get her bridle off by shaking her head up and down while a poor stable hand was trying to keep her still to show off with all his might. Her neighs accompanying the rhythmic stomping of her black hooves.

‘Oh, this will be fun.’  Olruggio thought flatly.

It was an honor to be given the most stunning steed of the house, and honor most nobles would keep for themselves, despite how well he had gotten along with Lord Raumo, he couldn’t insult him by refusing such respect, even if the mare clearly had other ideas on the matter.

“Sir Olruggio, let me introduce Opal to you. She may seem a bit nippy but she’s a treasure under saddle, I assure you!” Lord Raumo had boasted at Olruggio’s clear doubt about the arrangement.

As to underline her disagreement with the statement, Opal stomped her left hoof three times in a row.

“Oh, I’m sure she is my Lord…” He replied, carefully getting close to the agitated horse.

Olruggio wasn’t easily scared, not by horses at least. After the hell his childhood pony had put him through, he really couldn’t be.

He thought back fondly.

Starfire was a good hardy pony, never really dangerous, but he was a bit of a prick. Always fighting for control whenever he found his rider lacking, and Olruggio, still being a beginner and a child at the time, had fallen face first in the snow more times that he had cared to count but in the long run that just made him develop a good seat, good balance and a fearlessness that boarded foolhardiness.

He stopped a few feet away from Opal, slowly stretching his left hand toward her with an open palm patiently waiting for her to come to him.

At the gesture she rose her ears up in curiosity, carefully sniffing his hand with her big grey snout.

The young stable hand sized the opportunity to pass Olruggio the reins and back away as quickly as he could, disappearing among the stalls. The teenage boy seemed scared of the massive mare, either he was new at the job or he had some bad experience with her but it was clear the pair didn’t get much along since even Opal seemed pleased at the stable hand departure, instantly calming down and lowering her head enough for Olruggio to scratch her right on the flat of her forehead.

“That’s it. Good girl.” He cooed, moving his vigorous pets down to her neck.

As he moved to her left side, he checked the saddle and moved to release the girth by a bit. It wasn’t badly placed, but it was a bit tight for his liking and that clearly wasn’t making Opal any happier.

She seemed to like the change, though she had tried to bite him at first. Not in a mean way though, nothing that a firm ‘Oi!’ and a light smack on the nose couldn’t settle.

She was clearly a bit of a hassle, but she didn’t seem to be a mean-spirited horse, maybe a bit jumpy if anything, but Olruggio was confident he could work with that.

True to his patron’s word, Opal was a lot easier to deal with once he had mounted.

After a slight scare at his use of his sylph shoes to hop on her, which, to be fair, had been a miscalculation on his part, she almost immediately calmed and let him lead her behind Lord Raumo’s chestnut gelding without any trouble for the first clock mark.

No, the trouble began once they entered the forest surrounding the estate.

It was a bit windy that day and the violent rustling of the leaves clearly had both horses on edge, but while the chestnut simply seemed to petrify without notice and for apparently no reason to observe their surroundings, Opal’s stress response was to sprint as fast as she could, trampling everything in her path.

Olruggio managed to rein her in a couple of times without too much hassle but it was clear neither horse was having a good time in the forest and to be fair, neither were their riders.

“What do you say Sir Witch? Should we circle back to the plains? They both seem awfully scared… Neither of them is usually like this.”

Interjected Lord Raumo after the third avoided accident.

“Aye. Something’s gotten them spooked and it can’t just be the wind.”

After that brief exchange, they turned back on their track, leading the scared horses back to the open fields in front of the estate. Both steeds seemed to have understood their change in direction as they seemed to calm down, even before leaving the forested path behind, leading their riders to relax as well and engage in idle conversation.

Olruggio should have known better.

He could still hear the voice of his father trying to sear in his mind to never completely let go of his horse, even when everything seemed calm, but especially not with a jumpy horse who could spook at the drop of a hat.

‘That’s how you get your bum in the snow!’ He’d say. ‘You need to be ready for them, even when relaxed.’

Olruggio was not ready.

His reins were too loose, his heels had crawled up with most of his weight resting on the ball of his feet and he was leaning slightly forward to better talk with Lord Raumo who now walked his gelding on his right and slightly ahead of him and Opal.

That’s when it happened.

In the fraction of a second, he saw Opal’s ears shoot up and turn toward the deeper forest on their left. He felt her muscles tense underneath him and then explode in another full gallop.

He was thrown forward at the sudden motion, stirrups lost to the winds and out of the saddle, hugging Opal’s neck for dear life while still gripping the left rein somehow, his right tightly tangled in her mane.

Now, that on itself wouldn’t have been that bad, he could have just floated away with his sylph shoes and worried about getting the horse later. But no. That idiot of a horse had decided that her best escape path was in the thick of the forest on their right, opposite whatever had spooked her, a space way too crammed with trees and branches to just jump off her and fly away.

Passing behind Lord Raumo’s horse, she darted at full speed in the undergrowth, uncaring of every bush or fallen tree trunk in her way or for the witch desperately clinging to her mane and screaming at her to stop.

Olruggio didn’t really register for how long he had managed to keep his death grip on her mane, the rushing wind and the thumping of his own hearth mixed with the clobbering of hooves on the ground were the only sound in his ears. At one point he registered that the hat on his had had been flung off by some stray branches that had scraped against his back and thankfully thick cloak.

He lifted his head to try and assess the situation better, maybe regain a semblance of control, but all it granted him was a  first row view of a larger low hanging branch coming straight for him.

He tried to avoid it by letting himself slide on Opal’s right side but he wasn’t quick enough and he felt all the force of the impact between his left shoulder and the wooden obstacle.

The pain bloomed in an instant, finally making him loose grasp of the rein and mane he had clung to until now.

The fall was shorter than he expected, given how tall Opal was. Or maybe it was as long as it was supposed to and he simply was too focused on the searing pain in his shoulder to register it correctly, what he was sure he registered perfectly was the collision of his left hip followed by his face with the damp soil of the forest’s undergrowth.

The force of the crash with the tree branch had him pivot on himself once in the air and then roll over a few times on the ground. Once he had finally come to a stop, he was sprawled with his back against the earth and his throbbing face looking at the hot rays of sunlight filtering through the thick foliage.

He couldn’t breathe.

His left shoulder hurt so much it seemed on fire, a dull pain spreading from the point of impact like liquid flame under his skin. His left cheek was throbbing, tingling feverishly. His head ringing empty and hollow, the dim light too harsh to keep his eyes open.

Everything hurt.

Only one thought popped in his scrambled head.

‘Qifrey is going to kill me.’

He wasn’t sure how long it took him to steady his breath, but once he did, he took a deep inhale and opened his eyes again.

The light wasn’t hurting his eyes anymore and the pain had subsided a little, feeling it only in his shoulder now.

He slowly tested his limbs. His legs were fine, he could tell he would get a bruise on his hip but besides that his lower half seemed unscathed. His right arm was also a bit stiff from the tumbling on the ground but otherwise fine. He sat up with surprising ease given his fall, not even his head was giving him trouble if not for that tingling in his left cheek that still hadn’t gone away.

That was another bruise forming for sure.

He finally tried to move his shoulders and that’s when he regretted his decision. The right one was fine, stiff but otherwise fine, but moving the left one caused the burning pain to return once again and dissolve soon after he stopped.

He unlatched his cloak and probed his aching shoulder with his right hand. He didn’t feel much pain from the touch, just a slight discomfort. Looking at it, he could tell it was slightly swollen but that the bone was still firmly in his socket.

He was no doctor, but he was sure it wasn’t dislocated at least.

With a grunt he relatched his cloak in place and got up, making sure to keep his left arm as still as he could.

He then took a look at his surroundings. His hat laid sideways several feet behind him, in the distance between the trees he could make out the trail they had been on and he could hear the muffled voice of his patron calling for him.

Well, at least he hadn’t seen his swan dive.

He turned on the other direction and for a second, he didn’t know if he should laugh or swear.

Opal was looking at him expectantly several paces away, her reins caught in a bush and halting her break neck escape.

He sighed.

“Ugh… All right. Let’s get you back.”

Qifrey listened intentively to Olruggio’s tale, his eye flicking between the bruise on his face and his arm in the sling.

During the recounting he had cleaned up the broken plates and provided Olruggio with a freshly prepared cheese clutter and a cup of thornbark tea that had been by now both polished off.

He wondered if that sense of dread he felt these past days was due to his friend’s fall, as if his body, or perhaps his parasite, could tell that something had happened to him.

He shooed the thought away. Now it wasn’t the time to let his emotions run wild.

“So that’s why you were late…You were being treated at Lord Raumo’s estate?” He asked instead.

“Ugh… Don’t get me started! That man frets worse than you! He basically had me under lock and key in the most comfortable room in the castle until half of the doctors in the region had a look at me.” His friend groaned, as if the medical care was worse than the injury itself.

“Well, I’m glad he took your injury seriously.”

Qifrey smiled relieved, finishing the last of his own cup of tea. Perhaps, instead of a vengeful river he ought to send Olruggio’s patron some kind of gift to tank him for taking care of his injured friend. Didn’t Olly say his crush liked stars? Maybe he could make him a tea set that formed little stars instead of a dragon…

“Though I am surprised he sent you home so late…” He added after a beat, finishing his though out loud.

“Oh no, I left his estate this afternoon. They don’t have a windowway there, so I had to ride to the nearest witch town but I might have underestimated just how long it would take me to get there with this…” Olruggio responded while gesturing his bandaged shoulder.

Qifrey’s eye snapped to his friend's. Surely he must have heard wrong, not even Olruggio could have been so reckless to jump back on a horse just a few days after his disastrous fall.

“Wait. You rode to the windowway?”

“Aye. Better than flying there anyway.” He replied nonchalantly but not looking Qifrey in the eye.

“Olruggio you’re still injured!”

“Oh, come now! I’m perfectly capable of riding with only one hand!”

“That’s NOT the point! What if you worsened your injury?!”

“I’m not dying Qifrey! Just a bit sore that’s all. Besides, I would have had to wait another day for a carriage and I just wanted to come home. I figured you lot would star to worry if I hadn’t shown soon.”

Qifrey had to contain himself from flincing at the blooming warmth that took over his chest accompanied by the first stir of his silver roots. He focused on his annoyance at Olruggio instead. But it didn’t last long, devoured buy marvel at his kindness. Not that it was news to him. He knew full well that Olly always put others first, but he wished he would think of himself from time to time.

He sighed in his hands defeatedly.

“Seriously Olly… What am I going to do with you?”

It came out more tender than he’d intended, worry and care coloring his whisper. At the silence, he spied another glance at his oldest friend.

Olruggio was looking at him warmly, with his lovely lips slightly parted as if he was debating with himself whether or not to say something.

Qifrey felt another creak in his bones. Still minor enough he could ignore it but this was getting dangerous.

The combination of his weariness after a long day and the relief he had felt at having Olruggio back home threatened to make him too relaxed and that look, that warm loving look risked to spell his undoing.

He could never resist that look of fondness. It always led them to a precipice called truth, that being about his secrets or feelings it didn’t really matter, the end was always the same.

“Well… Perhaps it’s best I let you go to sleep for now. You must be tired. Goodnight, Olly.”

He left the kitchen and his best friend in a badly hidden hurry, not even waiting for a replay.

He would not let his star fall again tonight.