Chapter Text
Qifrey laid stretched out on the small pastel settee that rested in the far corner of the private study space Beldaruit had allowed him. His recent growth-spurt had made this an almost-uncomfortable position since his legs hung over the side considerably, the low arm-rest digging into his calves. The book he had been reading was placed open over his face as he absentmindedly rolled a long black ribbon, that trailed up from his discarded cap on the floor, between his fingers.
Alaira’s voice drifted in between the cracking of the fire, sometimes hums of a familiar tune, sometimes muttering swear words as she worked. His foot swayed in lazy time with her, his mind drifted.
It was a relatively peaceful way to spend an afternoon.
“Argh!” This was followed by what Qifrey was sure were her hands slapping the desk, and he startled. “Hey! Trouble! I need your input here!”
Qifrey pulled the book down his face just enough to expose his eye and looked over to where she sat a few feet away. “Hmm?”
She chewed on the tip of her wand, contemplating with her eyes closed. “I’m trying to parse out how I would make this wind spell a more directed, shaped burst. Almost like a mini tornado to move objects, just not destructive or violent, I want to be able to pick them up and direct them. I’ve tried making my signs longer, shorter, curved. Nothing is making it behave the way I want it to!”
Qifrey slid the book back over his face as he thought.
The fire stuttered.
The silence stretched as Qifrey pictured the seal she had been working on. He drew it the ways she had explained and watched the outcomes in his mind. He made alterations to them and watched those outcomes too.
One of his favorite things about talking magic, and really about anything with Alaira, was that she was open to his silence, and she would often fill it with no obligation for reciprocation. She knew his brain was whirling and working and didn’t rush an answer. She simply sat patiently and waited, knowing she wasn’t ignored, wasn’t brushed off, and that Qifrey was working on the problem.
It was another few seconds before he spoke.
“Mmm. What if instead of one central sigil, you did two small ones enclosed in their own rings, signs along the edges of the main ring?”
“Oh! Better yet! Three, that way it’s balanced! That might be it!” He heard the scratching of her pen as she scribbled furiously, followed by a “Hah!” and the ribbon he was fidgeting with pulled through his fingers. A gentle gust swept over him, stirring his hair and rippling his tunic.
“Hey!.” Qifrey protested and propped himself up on an elbow, pulling the book completely off his face and snapping it shut.
“Hmm-Hmm! Gotcha.” she smirked triumphantly. “Thanks for the help.”
“Welcome.” He tried not to sound irritated.
She stared at him a few long moments, a question in her eyes that Qifrey knew was coming, and had no desire to answer.
She asked anyway.
“You know, it’s been months now, and you still really won’t tell me about that?” She motioned with the teeth-marked back end of her pen at that.
Qifreys cap lay deflated on its side where Alaira’s wind spell had blown it, the black silk ribbon in a lose heap next to it.
“Um, it’s a hat?”
“Smart-mouth. You know what I’m talking about. Olly’s ribbon?”
“My ribbon?”
“No, Olruggio’s ribbon, that you guys clearly exchanged.”
Qifrey stayed silent.
“He won’t tell me either, you know?” Alaira shook her head, her puffed hair swayed against her. “It almost gives creedence to some of those rumors you guys hate so much.”
“There’s always rumors. That’s all this place is good for.”
“Yeah, but you fervently deny rumors that swirl around you both, even though you’re consistently caught sneaking out at night together and alone. Even though you did something as intimate as openly exchange cap ornaments. Even when you lovingly caress that very same cap ornament night and day.”
“I don’t-!”
“Ah- I wasn’t done! Even when you openly look at him with that awed expression like you think he is some gift descended from the heavens.”
“Yeah, well… I-, Uh.” Qifrey could feel the heat on the back of his neck as he looked away from Alaira.
“Even Olly’s bound to notice soon, Qifrey.”
Qifrey blew out air, deflating back down into the settee. “No chance.” He flung an arm over his face. “He is ridiculously oblivious. And it’s not like I want him to notice anyway.”
Alaira hummed again. “It really is hilarious how oblivious he is. He doesn’t realise how much his natural personality comes off as flirtatious. It’s very cute. It’s no wonder he’s constantly got the other aprentices tripping over him.”
Qifrey groaned. Alaira took a breath to say something else- more than likely a jab to rile him up, he could feel it- when the door to the study suddenly burst open and Olruggio staggered inside.
Qifrey could hear Olruggio’s heavy breathing and peeked under his arm to see him bent over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.
“What in the stars happened to you?” Alaira blurted as soon as the door slammed behind him. “Did you climb the stairs all the way up here?”
Olruggio nodded, straightening up. He roughly pulled at the clasp to his robe and discarded it, along with his cap, on the alabaster-inlaid side table as he usually did.
“D’you-“ He took a deep breath, “D’you know how many stairs… whew, Stairs there are up to this place? T-two hundred thirty-two. I-” A breath . “I counted.” He wiped his forehead miserably with the back of his hand and began billowing the front of his tunic. “Aye, it’s maftin’ in here.”
Olruggio’s eyes suddenly landed on Qifrey, as he blew out an exasperated huff that ruffled the fringe that hung over his eyes. Qifrey realized in that moment he was leaning far forward off the settee, completely enraptured. Olly’s cheeks were flush and blotchy, his dark hair, which could be described as a mess on a good day, was wild and sticking to his face. Qifrey’s fifteen year old brain was short circuiting, watching as Olly pulled his lower lip into his mouth with his teeth to moisten it.
Alaira’s soft snort and laugh next to him broke whatever spell Qifrey was under, and his face erupted in heat as he looked away from Olruggio.
“You guys are acting weird… Did I interrupt something?” Olly paused fanning himself and eyed them back-and-forth suspiciously.
“Not at all, not at all.” Alaira clapped her hands together and Qifrey immediately knew Olly was in for it as she strode up to him. “In fact, we were just discussing how adorable-“ She pinched his cheek. “you are, then you show up like this to prove our point!”
“A-adorable!?” He batted her hand away. “Yer not s’pposed to call boys adorable!” The bridge of his nose coloured pink.
“A~dor~a~ble!” She emphasized in a singsong voice and danced away from Olly’s swatting hand.
Trudging over while muttering obscenities under his breath, Olruggio huffed and flung himself over Qifrey, smashing him back down into the cushions.
“No-Oof!” Qifrey’s meek protest was more in fear of being found-out, of his traitorous heart-beat being heard, than lack of desiring the contact. He looked down to see Olly’s pouting face and all thought promptly launched itself out of his brain. “What’s… wrong?”
“Ugh!” Olruggio complained in the dramatic way he did when he was about to launch into a story that was more than likely mundane and inconvenient, than a grand tale. It was all for show and always amusing- or it would be if he wasn’t currently nestling himself under Qifrey’s chin. Soft, silky, dark, and slightly sweaty hair tickled his nose and mouth as Olruggio made himself comfortable, slotting his legs in between Qifrey’s- like Qifrey wasn’t about to boil over like a tea kettle, steam and all. His arms wormed their way under Qifrey’s back and waist to pull himself closer. He settled in with a satisfied hum.
“Get a room, you two!” Alaira snickered to Qifrey’s absolute mortification. Olly wouldn’t pick-up on the potential inappropriateness of the situation, his actions, what this looked-and felt- like. He could be so innocent about showing affection like this and would probably ask questions like ‘Room fer what?’. Shut up, Alaira!!
“You don’t want to join? Witch-pile on Qifrey!”
“Oh, that’s what we’re doing? Don’t mind if I-“
“No, no, N-“ Qifrey felt all the air leave him for a second time, as Alaira launched herself onto Olruggio’s back, crushing Qifrey at the bottom of the ‘witch-pile’, and the wooden legs of the settee protested with a distinct groan.
The pair of them laughed, while Qifrey adjusted himself to be able to breathe. At least the fear of suffocating to death would prevent him from enjoying the full-body contact with Olruggio, at least, enough for the Silverwood to stay sleeping. Not that the absolute, soul-crushing guilt he felt every time he looked into those hopeful, midnight blue eyes wasn’t already doing a fantastic job of that anyway.
“So what happened Olly?” Alaira asked as she planted a cheek on the back of Olruggio’s head. Qifrey closed his eye as he listened.
“Oh! Yeah! Well first; I was accosted by a bunch of people who would not leave me alone, I jus’ wanted to return my books to the library! They were so damn persistent, I ended up running down one of the old abandon halls trying to get away, and I tripped and ripped my sole!” Qifrey felt him wiggle a leg, presumably the one with the ripped sole, in emphasis. “Right through me casting seal.”
“So then you had to climb-?”
“All Two-hundred thirty two, stairs, yes!”
Qifrey had noticed Olruggio’s voice changing over the last several months, losing its scratchy boyish quality and deepening, but feeling it rumble against his chest and stomach was simply Bad News. He realized his eyebrows and eye were scrunched tight enough that he would give himself a headache, and he forced his eye open. Past the mop of Olly’s hair were Alaira’s grey eyes, alight with mischief and peering down at him. She could clearly read every thought in his head right now and smirked at his peril. At least she was here to sour the mood. He might just survive this!
“So,” Qifrey gulped. “Why did you run up, uh, two-hundred thirteen stairs, was it?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Thirty-two, my mistake. Question still stands.”
“I just found out I have Aestival Advent and Solstice off. I thought we could all sneak out and go take a gander at that town Qifrey and I saw lit-up in the distance, when we found that old, run-down farm-house last year. I did some research, an’ I think it’s a witch-town.”
“That’s utterly unfair!” Alaira declared. “Why do you get those days off? Boy-genius privileges?”
“Oi, you know that ain’t it. Okay…that maybe it…” Olly shifted, digging an elbow into Qifrey’s ribs uncomfortably. “Master told me to save my magic display for next Silver Eve, instead. The searneedle’s getting me too much attention, and that I need to ‘let my peers shine’. I was hopin’ to sell a few things and make a few coin, or even some good trades- my master ruins all me fun!”
“Hardly, if your master let you have any more fun, I’d be convinced you used forbidden magic to make him an apparition. The things he let’s you get away with.” She chastised.
“He doesn’t actually.” Interjected Qifrey. “We get in trouble all the time.”
“We’re actually banned from the low hall completely, so we don’ go up the window way stairs.”
“Beldaruit put a smoke spell there, that, if it detects either of us, masks the hallway in a maze that always leads back to the main hall. Quite troublesome, that one.”
“Spent four hours one night trying t’get through it- no dice.”
At this, Alaira laughed and shook her head in disbelief. “ So how do you sneak out, if you can’t go through the window way?”
“We got… around it.” Qifrey shrugged as best he could under the weight of his friends.
“We still go through A window way, just not THE window way.” Olly tried to tinge his voice with mystery, losing the effect as it cracked.
“On second thought,” Aliria sighed. “Maybe the less I know, the better. If I’m interrogated, I don’t have to feign ignorance, and my master won’t have to lose an apprentice to mind-wipe!”
“Speaking of displeasing masters. I want nothing to do with Aestivus festivities here. Beldaruit expects me to be part of the apprentice performance, so I was already planning on a no-show.” Qifrey murmured.
“Great! That’s settled, then. Let’s meet-”
“La-la-la-la, I know nothing about this!” The weight crushing Qifrey suddenly lessened, as Alaira rolled off the top of the pile, delicately landing on the floor with a flourish. “I think, boys, this is my cue to take leave of you ne’er-do-wells and your schemes!” She used a grasping wind spell to pull her quire, pen and ink from the desk, tucking them neatly into her waist-bag. She straightened her cloak, before leaning down to antagonize Olly with a quick kiss placed on the top of his head.
He yelped out an “A-lai-ra!” and ducked further into Qifrey, embarrassed. She hummed pleased with herself, and shot Qifrey, who had quickly found very great interest in the ceiling, a grin.
“Oh, hey! Olly… you do realise it’s several tick-marks past four, right? Didn’t you say-”
“Ah, my meeting!” Olly jumped up suddenly, leaving Qifrey’s legs and back half-asleep.
Qifrey grunted as he sat up properly for the first time in what seemed like hours, tingling all over. He tried to get feeling back in his body while watching the bottom of Olruggio’s shoe slap ridiculously as he scrambled over to the table with his things, the torn flap of the sole folding over with each step. He collected his cloak and hat in a wad in one arm and turned, opening the door with a rough yank. “Usual meeting spot?”
“Sure. 4am?”
“It’s a date, then.” Olruggio answered with a cheeky smile and a wave before sprinting down the stairs.
Qifrey planted his face in his hands, his entire body vibrating with unbearable heat.
“Don’t. Say. Anything.” He squeaked out, peering between his fingers at Alaira.
She shook her head, hands on hips. “Doesn't notice, huh? He’s too smooth by half, I don’t know how you do it Qifrey.”
He sighed, pulling his hands down his still-red face.
“Well, Trouble, I’m off too. You boys have fun. Be safe. Make good choices. Use pr-”
“If you finish that sentence out loud, I swear, I will turn you in as an accomplice.”
She put her hands up in feigned innocence before giving him one last smirk and blowing a kiss over her shoulder. “Give Olly at least one from me, hmm?” She winked.
“Ugh!” Qifrey hurled a cushion, it hit the closed door and slumped to the floor. He copied it, melting from his seated position on the settee to the cool stone ground below him. He buried his face in his knees and let out an exasperated groan.
If Alaira’s teasing didn’t do him in, Olly’s innocent flirting was surely going to be the death of him.