Chapter Text
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Let’s tell this story a little differently.
Perhaps it’s familiar, perhaps it’s new. Perhaps in the past, this tale was set as a tragedy, and it left a bittersweet taste in your mouth. Perhaps the sorrow was so deeply ingrained in the pages that your own heart mourned what had never been, what never could be, despite the protective lens of fiction assuring you that it simply isn’t real. Perhaps still, the love was always real.
Let’s focus on that this time. Let’s set aside the tragedy, though melancholy certainly has its time and place, and loss helps us remember to treasure the gentler things that much more. Let’s tell the story again, and this time, we’ll sooth the rough edges, iron out the creases, and let every word be soaked in love.
Let’s give the characters something gentle, something warm like it’s been resting by the fireplace. Something sweet, that will melt on your tongue like a lemon sweet in the summertime. Let’s give them all the wonderful and good things we wish for them to have, that we too wish we could savor.
Enjoy for a moment, the sweeter, softer things.
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It is a quiet morning when he notices something is different. Not in a big, grand way. It’s just a feeling, something he can’t quite shake off. Perhaps it’s a twinge in his gut, or how his eyelids feel heavier that day, wisps of fatigue clinging to him like stubborn dew in the morning. Maybe it’s the way every scent seems sharper, the lemons he used during breakfast smelling brighter than he’d ever noticed before.
Still, it is on a whim that Qifrey puts on his hat and cloak, and scribbles a note to Olly that he’s going out for the day.
It’s just the two of them at the atelier, so it isn’t all that uncommon for one of them to flit off to the nearby town for little reason other than boredom. Today though, Qifrey has a purpose to his outing. He doesn’t return to the hall often, usually preferring to stay on the surface where the air was light and fresh, and where sunlight was just a window away. Today though, he braves the salty taste that accompanies every breath and makes a visit to his friend at the medical spire.
It is always nice to see Sinocia, though she’s surprised Qifrey is on his own and not dragging Olruggio behind him with some new burn or cut that needs treatment.
Today, Qifrey is here entirely for himself, and that in and of itself is unusual.
The visit is short, and Qifrey leaves quietly, feeling neither excitement nor dread, just a detached sense of wonder.
He returns home, and Olly is bustling about in the kitchen, and the scent of Qifrey’s favorite tea is in the air.
“Ah, you’re back sooner than I expected, I was hopin’ to have lunch ready. Why’d you head off to the hall anyway, did Beldaruit have another book for your test?”
Qifrey was silent as he moved through muscle memory, whisking off his cloak to hang it by the door, placing his cap nearby. He had no reason to wear either in the home, not when Olly’s magic kept the whole place comfortably warm. Olruggio stepped out of the kitchen, teacup in hand, beaming when he saw Qifrey.
“Qifrey?”
“I’m pregnant.” He said it without thinking, it was just that as soon as he saw Olly’s face, he couldn’t keep it in. The teacup he’d been holding fell to the ground, shattering on impact. In an instant, Olly was there, reaching out for Qifrey, who all but fell into his arms. The pair of witches held each other, wrapped in their embrace.
“Really?” Olly spoke first, pulling back only enough so that he could cup Qifrey’s face, meeting his blue eye.
“Really, I had Sinocia check. I know we haven’t talked about it at all and we certainly weren’t planning on anything other than apprentices-”
“Qifrey.”
“It’s a lot to spring on you, I’m sorry, I wasn’t really thinking-”
“Qifrey,”
“And a baby is so much, and I haven’t the slightest clue how to care for one, I’ve only just started preparing for my fifth test and you have all your commissions-”
“Qifrey!” Finally Qifrey stopped, Olly placing a hand over his mouth. “Slow down a moment.” He smiled, and Qifrey’s anxiety melted away in an instant. “There you go. It’s just us, we’re alright here.” Seeing Qifrey relax, he took his hand away from Qifrey’s mouth, though he didn’t move it far, just returning it to its place on his cheek. “You’re right, it is a surprise. But not an unwelcome one.”
“You mean?” His expression brightened, hope fluttering in Qifrey’s chest.
“Let’s do it. You ‘n me, we can do just about anythin’ can’t we?”
“We’re having a baby?” Olly grinned up at him, and Qifrey couldn’t help but return it, a giddy feeling welling up inside that made him want to spin, made him want to hop and skip with joy.
“We’re having a baby!” Olly picked him up, and despite their height difference he had little difficulty in spinning Qifrey around, pulling him in so the two could share a tender kiss. His beard tickled, and Qifrey laughed against his mouth.
There would be much to do, much to talk about. For now, they danced and spun and held each other, sharing the joy and the wonder of something new they’d created together.
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Though they both agreed it was best to wait till after the baby was born to try and take on any apprentices, Qifrey continued to study for his test, determined to take it before he gave birth. That way he’d be able to relax as much as he was able to toward the end of his pregnancy, and focus on getting ready for their little bundle of joy.
Olly, while Qifrey studied, doted on him. Qifrey found himself never lacking a fresh cup of tea, or a blanket tucked around his shoulders, or fresh paper when his was filled with half-scrawled spells. To tell the truth, it would’ve been suffocating if it weren’t for the warm, love-sick look on Olly’s face whenever he handed Qifrey something.
In the weeks following their unexpected news, the pair of them had redoubled their effort to fix up the atelier, and Qifrey in particular attacked the bedrooms with a newfound fervor. It invigorated him, setting the rooms to rights so they were ready for whenever they needed, ensuring not a speck of dust was out of place. Olly teased him, but didn’t complain so long as Qifrey left the more physically demanding chores to him.
“You shouldn’t push yourself, your body is already doin’ twice as much work as me.” Qifrey laughed, swatting him with the broom.
“Hardly, they’re not even that big yet. You can’t even see anything.”
“Still,” Olly insisted, nodding at his own point. “I’ve got this. Leave the atelier to me. You focus on your studyin’, and then once you take the test you can tell your dad, and we can laugh at the blubberin’ mess he’s sure to be.”
Beldaruit, who got emotional over any of Qifrey’s accomplishments, was surely going to be a sight once he learned of the news. He’d been so excited when Qifrey told him his plans to take the fifth test, exclaiming over “grand-apprentices!”
He’d decided not to tell him until after he passed the test though. Beldaruit had a bit of an overprotective streak, especially when it came to Qifrey, and he didn’t want to risk any coddling when it came to something so important.
When Qifrey passed the test to earn the right to take on apprentices, it would be through his own skill, his own magic.
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He was about three months along when he finally took the test, passing with flying colors. Beldaruit was a mess when he gave Qifrey the news, even more so when Qifrey told him his own news in return. It took some time to extract himself from his dad’s hold, and even then it was only with the promise that they’d set up a time for him to visit soon. Beldaruit finally let him go, promising to spoil the new baby as much as he was allowed, and Qifrey rolled his eye and bid him farewell.
When he got home, Olruggio was waiting with Qifrey’s favorite spicy soup, and a bouquet of wildflowers in hand. “How’d it go?” He was clearly nervous, having likely been pacing all afternoon in anticipation.
“I passed! I can now officially take on apprentices!” Olruggio beamed at him, and Qifrey pulled the shorter witch into a celebratory kiss. “Though, not for a while. Frankly, I’m ready to relax for a bit. I smell dinner, shall we eat?” Olruggio laughed at his appetite, which had doubled in the past month or so.
“I made your favorite, thought it would be a fittin’ celebration since drinkin’ is off the table.”
“If you want to have a glass of wine you’re more than welcome to.” He truly didn’t mind if Olruggio drank, even if Qifrey wasn’t able to join him, but Olly had been firm that if Qifrey couldn’t, he wouldn’t either till they could share a drink together again. He didn’t want to admit how it warmed his heart, that Olruggio would give up one of his favorite activities just because they couldn’t do it together.
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The first time Qifrey felt the baby kick, it had been in the kitchen. It had startled him so that he dropped the dish he was holding. Thankfully, it only fell into the soapy water with a slight splash.
“Olly!” He called, and his partner came running around the corner, a frantic look on his face.
“What happened, is it the baby?” Qifrey made a wordless noise of delight, grabbing his hand and pressing it to his belly. They kicked again, and Olly melted, sinking to his knees with a look of wonder on his face.
“I can feel them!” Qifrey nodded, delight singing in his mind so much that he could hardly speak with it. “Hello there, little one.” Olly leaned in, pressing the gentlest of kisses to Qifrey’s belly, against the small bump that had formed there, the physical proof of the love the two shared. “I can’t wait to meet you.”
Qifrey couldn’t agree more.
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Qifrey’s pregnancy was full of those wonderful, soft moments. He wasn’t sure which of them had become more clingy, but suddenly he couldn’t bear to be more than a few paces away from Olruggio at any moment, and Olly seemed to feel much the same, if the way he lingered on the edges of the nursery was any indicated, not truly helping so much as he was hovering. It would be annoying if Qifrey wasn’t deeply soothed by his presence, by knowing he was right there should Qifrey need anything.
They’d debated quite a while over where to put the nursery, in the end redecorating what was supposed to be a study for Qifrey. Olly also moved his things into Qifrey’s room, leaving the tower as just his workshop, though he’d left the hammock hanging up at Qifrey’s insistence.
“You’re going to fall asleep in there, you always do! Might as well have somewhere comfortable to do it because it’ll be a while before I’m able to drag you back to bed.”
“No I won’t, I’ll be here. If I’m passed out in the tower I won’t be able to get up when the baby cries now, will I? So I just won't sleep in there anymore.”
Still, he left the hammock, if only so Qifrey would have somewhere comfortable to sit when he came to watch Olly work.
(Two nights later, a bemused Qifrey shook him awake, kindly not commenting on the ink smeared across his cheek from falling asleep at his desk yet again.)
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Despite reaching the point in his pregnancy where anything beyond walking from his bed to the living room counted as strenuous exercise, Qifrey found himself feeling almost obnoxiously happy. Olruggio was delighted by this, and teased him to no end. It hardly bothered him, like rain off his water-repellant cloak. The pair had settled into comfortable routine, with Qifrey spending his days rotating between reading, idle chores, (Olly wouldn’t let him do much more than some light laundry on his own,) and watching Olly in his workshop, sometimes assisting him when the dark-haired witch hit a bump and needed a second pair of eyes.
They worked perfectly side-by-side, with the kind of routine and intimacy that came with years spent in tandem with each other, the closeness of knowing what the other was going to do before they did it. It was nice, feeling safe in the familiarity they shared, that despite how drastically their lives would change soon, they would still have this ease with one another.
Qifrey’s favorite time of day was the evening, when Olly would set aside his work, and the pair would cuddle for a few clockmarks, simply enjoying some closeness and physical contact. However, they’d started to run into an issue.
That being, Qifrey’s steadily growing bump.
Normally when they cuddled, Olly would have his back to Qifrey, who would wrap his long arms around him and tuck their legs together. It was reassuring, being able to feel Olly’s heartbeat in time with his own. However, Qifrey’s belly got in the way of that now, leaving him huffing as he struggled to hold his partner.
“Here, roll over, I’ll be the big spoon,” Olly offered, helping Qifrey roll to the other side. That was an ordeal of its own, and if Qifrey didn’t have enough momentum he’d get stuck on his back, something that had Olruggio in hysterics the first time it happened. This time though, Olly was there to tip him over, Qifrey exhaling heavily as he flopped down. Then Olly went to lay down behind him, only to run into yet another issue.
This time, it was Olly’s fault. Turns out their height difference was large enough that for Olly to tuck his legs around Qifrey’s, his head would have to be resting between Qifrey’s shoulder blades. He sighed, the sound muffled against Qifrey’s back. It tickled, and Qifrey let out a little giggle. “Oi, what’re you laughin’ at?” Olly’s gruff tone only served to fuel Qifrey’s sudden fit, and he started laughing so hard his eye teared up, and his belly wobbled with laughter. It took several minutes for him to calm down, and Olly had given up on trying to calm him, simply waiting for the fit to end on its own.
Then of course, they still had to solve the issue of cuddling, which they did by facing each other, Qifrey curling in enough that he could tuck his head against Olly’s chest, Olly wrapping his arms around Qifrey’s shoulders. (His knees were closer to Qifrey’s hips, but he kindly didn’t comment on it to spare the poor man any more ridicule.)
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Olly had fallen asleep some time ago, and it meant Qifrey, who was still awake due to the wiggly baby refusing to settle, got to watch him sleep, one of his favorite things. He loved to see that moment his normally stressed-out, forever exhausted partner finally relaxed, his breathing evened out till it was slow and deep. He loved the way Olly’s eyelids would flutter when he began to dream, the way the tension between his brows would soothe only when he was unconscious. Sometimes, if Qifrey was lucky, he’d start snoring, a soft rumbly sound that always made him smile when he was awake to hear it.
He tilted his head up enough to press a kiss to Olly’s forehead, then tucked their faces together, matching up their breathing as the baby finally settled, allowing him to rest.
In his eye, it was certainly a perfect night.
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