Archive of Our Own

Alaira

The only great thing about the Great Hall was Olruggio, and Olruggio wasn’t there. Qifrey swung his legs and huffed a small sigh, pressing his cheek to the table. The cafeteria was busy as ever, but he didn’t mind it so much when Olly was around. They’d always get their lunch at the same time every day and race to see who could eat more, faster. Sometimes they’d show each other the spells they’d been working on with their masters. Sometimes they’d just make fun of Easthies whenever he showed his stupid face. Anyway, it was nice. It was perfect. Qifrey didn’t feel like eating today.

Olruggio’s master had taken him to the surface. It was a three day field trip. Olly had been so excited about it all week, and Qifrey couldn’t be more jealous. He wanted to go out too. They went out all the time on their adventures. But Beldaruit thought it best for Qifrey to finish his primer in the safety of the Great Hall for now. 

Without Olruggio, Qifrey didn’t know what to do with himself. He picked at his food, kicked his legs, and tried to imagine what Olly might be up to. Would Olly be missing him, too? Maybe not. Olruggio had no problem making friends wherever he went. He was a genius, and he was so, so kind. He was probably adventuring with some Outsider kids right about now, and he wasn’t thinking about Qifrey at all. Qifrey wouldn’t think of Qifrey if he had a choice. 

Ugh. 

He pushed his plate away, barely touched. 

“What, not eating?” 

Qifrey sat up. It was Alaira. She was with two of her classmates from her atelier, a pair of girl twins Qifrey had never bothered to speak to before. Alaira squeezed into the bench opposite him, her pair of friends on either side. They set down their food. Qifrey moved to go, but Alaira stopped him with a hand on the table. She was careful never to touch him, which he appreciated. It was one of the reasons he liked her.

“No,” she said, “stay, why don’t you? You’ve barely eaten anything.”

“I’m not hungry,” he muttered. He stood and grabbed his plate to put it away. Alaira snickered. 

“Aw, don’t tell me you can’t eat without your boyyyfriend.”

Qifrey paused, raising his eyebrow. Alaira’s friends were giggling behind their fists. “My what?” 

“Olruggio,” she said, as if it was obvious, though she was grinning in a way that made Qifrey feel like he was being left out of a joke. Which happened a lot, he’d learnt to ignore it. Still, Alaira didn’t usually make fun of him. “He’s your boyfriend, right?” she finished, the grin spreading like a half-moon legume. 

What a strange question. 

Olly was definitely Qifrey’s friend. His best friend. His only friend, really. It had been a while before Qifrey could admit it to himself, but by now it was undeniable. And Olly was a boy. Why was Alaira asking him such a stupid thing?

“Yes?” Qifrey blinked at her foolishness. Olly was his friend, and a boy. Duh. 

“Of course he’s my boyfriend.” 

Alaira gasped. The other two stared at him in stunned silence, and then all three of them burst into uproarious laughter. 

“What?” Qifrey cried, now definitely feeling like he was the butt of some joke nobody wanted to explain. He missed Olly. Olly never laughed at him, only with him. “Ugh, whatever!” He turned on his heels and stormed off, barely remembering to toss his untouched plate in the tray for dirty dishes. 

Utowin and Luluci

Qifrey doodled a spiral in his palm quire with normal ink. He was in the library, trying to finish up some homework Beldaruit had assigned him. He usually worked on these spells with Olly, but—well. The assignment was to make something “interesting” with a sigil of water. Which could mean anything. Beldaruit always left his assignments open-ended, which in turn forced Qifrey to try and figure out what he even liked. The last time Beldaruit had told him to do something interesting, Qifrey had spent a whole afternoon gazing at magical picture books until he found one on dragons, and immediately tried to make a water dragon. It hadn’t worked out too well—he’d only managed to create a vague reptilian ribbon thing—but Beldaruit had been overjoyed anyway, and offered both praise and advice on how to improve. Now Qifrey could make water dragons with his eye closed. 

The point, Beldaruit said, was for Qifrey to learn about himself through the assignments. The magic would follow. 

Anyway, Qifrey still liked dragons very much, but he suspected Beldaruit wanted to see something different this time. He was always pushing Qifrey to try new things. So what, aside from dragons, did Qifrey find interesting? 

Carapace yams were interesting. In a bored-to-death kind of way. He sighed again, loudly, and buried his head in his arms. Olly would know. He and Olly did endlessly interesting things together. They snuck out to the surface and provoked lion goats together. They made stews by pyreball in the dead of night together. They stole rose tarts from the cafeteria kitchens together. 

Actually—

Qifrey rubbed the growing sleep from his eyes. Rose tarts were super interesting. He’d always wondered how they were made. Most of the ingredients seemed to come from the surface, so they were a rare treat, often gone as soon as they were laid out. The last time, Olly and Qifrey had missed their chance to grab one, but Beldaruit had saved them a couple. Olly had been so happy that Qifrey had given him his rose tart. He liked them a lot, but he liked it more when Olly beamed at him and said, “Wow, are you sure? But are you sure?” 

Maybe he could make a water rose tart. Olly would get such a kick out of that. Or, or—oh, maybe he could add a sigil of fire—Olly’s speciality, of course—and make a rose tart out of steam. That would be so cool. He could just imagine it, the way the steam would swirl into pretty, floral shapes. If he could find a way to add some colour to the water vapour, even better. 

Qifrey was so deep in thought he didn’t hear the heavy footsteps. He certainly didn’t notice the boy in his blind spot before Utowin swung an arm around his shoulders and Qifrey’s heart nearly burst out of his chest.

“So,” said Utowin, “when’s the wedding?”

Qifrey tried to shove him off. It didn’t work. Utowin was bigger and stronger. “What?” he barked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Leave me alone!” 

“Leave him be,” came Luluci’s voice. She pulled Utowin off Qifrey, her gaze chastizing, and said, “Sorry about him. I told him not to grab you like that, but he didn’t think you’d mind.”

Qifrey scowled at her, then at Utowin. He was already gathering up his palm quire and ink. “What do you two want?”

“Aw, come on, don’t be so grumpy. I just wanted to say congratulations.” Utowin grinned, once again making Qifrey feel like he was being left out of a joke. “We heard about you and Olruggio. He’s your boyfriend, yeah?” 

Why the hell was everyone asking him that? 

“Obviously, yes,” Qifrey retorted. “Didn’t you know that?” 

Luluci stroked her chin. “I mean, I did suspect, but…” but then she smiled. Not in a teasing way, but in a warm, sweet way. Qifrey placed her under a long, searching stare. It wasn’t normal for people to smile at him that way. And Luluci was a lot of things, but she wasn’t very expressive. “We are happy for you. You must be missing him now that he’s away.”

“Yeah! Three days! Woooof,” Utowin made a show of grabbing his chest. “I’d be miserable if it were me.” 

“Um.” Qifrey gripped his palm quire tighter, but allowed himself to pause and breathe. They were trying to be nice. They were being understanding. He was pretty miserable. And bored. Without Olly, he didn’t know how to spend his time. “Yeah, I suppose,” he admitted. “I miss him loads.” 

“Aww.” Luluci’s frown was deeply sympathetic. “I can imagine. Hey, wouldn’t it be nice if you bought him something? I bet he’d love a present from you.”

“Really?” Qifrey perked up. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Utowin said with a gasp. “Because he’s your boyfriend! You have to do nice things for him. This is basic, man, keep up. Luluci’s right! You should buy him a present.” 

“Oh.” Huh. Qifrey had no idea he had to do all this for Olly. He’d never bought him a present before. He didn’t want Olly to feel sad, or worse, forgotten about. And Qifrey wasn’t hurting for money. Beldaruit gave him a comfortable allowance. Qifrey never knew what to spend it on. Usually he and Olly would just buy snacks. But maybe that wasn’t enough. Maybe Olly deserved something nicer. “But…I don’t know what to get him.”

Again, Utowin threw his arm around Qifrey. This time, he didn’t fight it. “C’mon,” said Utowin. “Let’s go to the market.” 

Shopping with Utowin and Luluci was one of the stranger experiences in his short, empty life. Because Qifrey had no idea what to buy, Utowin dragged him to every shop, stall, and vendor they came across, pointing at random things like marbles that exploded to confetti and shoes that gave the wearer the illusion of larger feet. Luluci was the voice of reason, shaking her head and vetoing everything Utowin suggested.

“It has to be something cute,” she said, after they left the fifth store. 

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Yeah,” said Utowin, “me neither.” 

“Idiots,” she muttered under her breath. “Qifrey, you know Olruggio best. Think of what would make him happy. Something that really shows that you were thinking of him while shopping.”

“Well, that doesn’t narrow it down. I’m always thinking of him.”

Maybe he said something wrong? Luluci and Utowin wore identical expressions of wide-eyed, simpering delight. They were making fun of him. They had to be. Qifrey just couldn’t figure out why. 

“That’s adorable,” Luluci declared. 

“Yeah,” Utowin snorted, though he sounded all fuzzy and warm and happy about it. “Very, very cute. Okay, team, let’s do this. Qifrey, how does Olruggio make you feel?”

“How does he make me feel?” Something bright and warm spread across Qifrey’s chest, and a sharp stab of pain sprang from somewhere behind his eye. He sucked in a breath and turned away, confused and scared and lost. He would always feel lost without Olruggio, and his absence left an ache in his heart. The pain behind his eye was receding as quickly as it came. Qifrey hadn’t realised how hard he’d been clutching his chest. He took a moment to calm himself before he could face the others. They seemed a little concerned, but he ignored their expressions and said, “You know how you can tell the direction from the stars?”

“Really?” asked Luluci.

“Yeah,” Utowin confirmed. 

“It’s kind of like…” but he couldn’t say that. What he felt for Olruggio belonged in his own mouth. He couldn’t let it touch the air. He couldn’t let this oceanic fog taint those words. Qifrey gritted his teeth and balled his fists. No, this was stupid. He couldn’t get Olly a gift based on his feelings. He had to think about what Olly would want, what Olly would need.

The one thing Olly always felt was pressure. Everyone constantly expected so much of him. He was the genius of Ghodrey. Everyone wanted to talk to him, everyone wanted his opinion on things. Olly never just got to be a normal person. In that, at least, he and Qifrey were similar. 

If there was one thing Olly needed, it was silliness. 

Qifrey could recognise that, because Beldaruit was constantly reminding him of the virtues of being silly and fun. He always thought Qifrey was too serious. 

Olly was also too serious. Like Qifrey, he sometimes had trouble sleeping. He’d get nightmares he couldn’t talk about without tearing up. Qifrey wanted him to feel safe. Olly had taught him to smile, so Qifrey wanted to return that gift.

“I know what to get him,” he declared, the inspiration as pure and vibrant as Olruggio’s smiling face. “Let’s go.”

He led Utowin and Luluci to a toy shop. The woman at the counter, a soft-featured witch with curly hair, greeted them with a cheerful wave. Qifrey marched towards her and had to stand on tip-toe to see past the counter. “Hello,” he said firmly. “I want to buy a plushbuddy for my boyfriend.”

“What?” Utowin sighed. “Seriously? That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” Qifrey retorted without looking at him. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Luluci offered.

Correct, he huffed inwardly. It was sweet. And more than that, it was perfect. Like Olly. 

“You…have a boyfriend?” the woman said. She peered over him with a bemused smile. “How old are you, love?”

“I’m eleven.” At least, that was his "official" age according to the paperwork Beldaruit had filled out. Who knew for sure? Anyway, it didn't matter. Qifrey deposited a stack of coins on the counter. He had no idea how much a plushbuddy cost, but that had to cover it, surely. The woman chortled, took a single coin off the stack, and returned the rest. 

“Sure, love. Whatever you like.” And she left to return with a box of long, plush brushbuddy toys. Qifrey had only seen babies with plushbuddies. He’d secretly always wanted one. They looked so soft and cute. That was why he knew it was the best gift for Olly. He could cuddle it while he slept, especially on nights when sleep was hard to come by. 

Qifrey selected a snowy white plushbuddy. It was exactly as soft as he’d imagined. It had a casting seal on its head, the ends separated by a ribbon with buttons. When Qifrey buttoned the ribbon, the seal was complete, and the plushbuddy toy let out a soft squeak. Qifrey grinned. Olruggio would find this hilarious. 

He left the store proudly, the purchase in a bag. 

“Thanks for helping me,” Qifrey said. “I better get back to the library, I’m trying to work out a spell for Beldaruit.” 

“No problem, man. Good luck with Olruggio!”

“He’s lucky to have you,” Luluci added. Qifrey wanted to contradict her. He was lucky to have Olly, not the other way around. But they were already waving their goodbyes. Qifrey gazed down at the plushbuddy, peeking out from the bag, and allowed himself a giddy little smile of his own. He couldn’t wait for Olly to get back.

Sinocia

It was the second day of Olly’s absence, and Qifrey was officially depressed about it. He spent most of the morning holed up in his room, trying to work out the spell for steam rose tarts. He wanted to complete it before Olly got back, so he had something to show his boyfriend. Aside from the plushbuddy, of course, that sat in its bag in Qifrey’s closet. 

He knew how he wanted it to look. He wanted it to be a pink or red water vapour rose tart that looked yummy enough to want to eat. The purpose was twofold: complete Beldaruit’s assignment, and show Olly a cool trick. But try as he might, he couldn’t figure out the shape nor the colour. 

How did they even make rose tarts? How did they get the shape in dough? Qifrey threw down his pen and stomped his way to the kitchen, where Beldaruit was overseeing the preparation of lunch. Qifrey had been surprised to learn that it wasn’t normal to have multiple cooks for a two-person household. But Beldaruit was a great witch, rich as he was powerful. His health issues meant he found it difficult to cook sometimes, and chores could leave him genuinely exhausted. Which was why he’d hired help. Qifrey announced his arrival with a soft hello to Gracia and Antione. Gracia was chopping vegetables as Antione looked over the fish stew. They both gave him fond smiles before turning back to their work. 

“Qifrey,” Beldaruit greeted warmly, beckoning him towards the sealchair. Qifrey obliged, placing a hand on one of the horns. “How is your assignment going?”

“It’s stupid,” he muttered. “I was hoping one of you could help me,” he added, speaking now to Gracia and Antione. 

“Huh? What do you need our help with?”

Qifrey wandered over to the stove. Antione had a powerful pyreball spell going. The fish stew bubbled heartily, filling the air with warm spices. Gracia paused her chopping. She was making Qifrey’s favourite: jellyfish salad with cucumbers. 

“How do they make rose tarts? In the cafeteria? Like—how do they shape the dough? I know they put apples and stuff but…I can’t figure out this spell.”

“I’m so intrigued.” Beldaruit’s sealchair clip-cloped across the tiles towards Qifrey. “Why do you need to know that for your assignment?” 

“Don’t you want it to be a surprise?” 

Beldaruit loved surprises. It worked well for Qifrey, who didn’t like explaining himself. 

“Ah, that’s very true, my dear apprentice.” 

“The apple slices are laid out onto strips of dough and then rolled up,” Antione said, without turning away from his stew. “That’s how you get the shape.” 

Qifrey hummed in thought. A thumb pressed against his lip, he mumbled a shy thanks and wandered out of the kitchen. Okay, that helped. Maybe he needed to figure out how to make the steam roll itself into a rose shape. 

He experimented with more spells in his palm quire, but none of them seemed to do anything. And then Gracia called him for lunch, so Qifrey took a break. 

“Still stuck on your spell?” Beldaruit asked kindly, when Qifrey remained lost in thought. He hadn’t spoken at all over the meal, though he was eating generous helpings. He always liked fish stew and jellyfish salad. “You can show it to me if you like,” Beldaruit went on. “We can puzzle it out together.”

“No,” he muttered. “I have to do this myself. It won’t be the same if you help me.” 

Beldaruit smiled. “Okay,” he sing-songed, “but remember that help is available when you need it.”

“I’ll go for a walk after lunch.”

His Master raised his brows, immediately suspicious.

“Don’t worry, I won’t wander off,” Qifrey defended, unable to hide his pout. “I just want to think.” Beldaruit had recently told him about the value of ‘brainstorming’ a spell. Walking or doing mundane activities while thinking about the problem. Qifrey wanted to give it a try. 

“If you’re not back in one clock mark, I will send out a search party.”

“Ugh. Fine. Whatever.” 

After lunch, Qifrey grabbed his spellcasting tools and went on that walk. It was honestly pretty boring. He wasn’t sure how it was supposed to help. He ended up at the library again, trying out multiple different spells that accomplished nothing. It was on his seventh attempt that disaster struck. 

He’d managed to create a decently hot steam spell, but his sign to make the rose was too big. Steam whooshed out of the ring and exploded on his face. The burn was immediate. He let out an embarrassing yelp as he grabbed his cheek. His face was wet, and it his skin was in agony. 

“Oh dear,” the librarian tutted, scuttling towards him. “You’re Beldaruit’s apprentice, yes? Show me your face. There you go…” she pried his hands off his cheek, and frowned. “You’re to go straight to the healing spire. If that’s not attended to, it could scar.”

No.

Not another scar.

Qifrey grabbed his things and hightailed out of the library, ignoring her cries. For once, he didn’t argue, running up the familiar path to the healing spire. He nearly crashed into Sinocia, in his blind spot.

“What the—Qifrey!” she exclaimed.

“Can you stop my face from scarring?” he demanded, his voice pleading. 

Qifrey was made to sit on a bed while Sinocia grabbed her medical supplies. She was five years older than him, a medic-in-training, and Qifrey knew her as the nice girl who routinely fixed up Olruggio’s injuries. He’d been fortunate not to need her care, but he was grateful she was being so attentive.

“Steam can leave nasty burns,” she agreed, dabbing a cooling gel on his cheek. “Good thing you came to me straight away. What were you even trying to do?”

“Make a steam rose tart,” Qifrey explained, feeling both guilty and stupid. “For Olruggio. I thought it would be cool. He likes rose tarts. Well, I do too, but he likes them more.”

Sinocia giggled. “That’s sweet of you. You two are very close, huh? I never see one without the other.” 

“He’s my boyfriend,” Qifrey supplied. He was getting rather fond of this word. It had a nice ring to it. 

Sinocia paused, a slight frown between her brows. “But…you’re so young.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Huh. Fair enough. I mean, my parents met when they were little too. My dad asked my mom to marry him when he was eight,” she laughed again. “They were just kids, but it was sweet.”

Qifrey frowned to himself. “What’s that mean? Marry?”

“Oh.” Again, she paused, looking Qifrey in his lone eye. “To marry someone…um, it's when you really care about someone, so you promise to be loyal to them forever, and be with them forever. That’s a marriage. Basically.” 

Huh. That sounded like an excellent idea. Qifrey already knew he was going to care for Olly forever. And he’d never betray or hurt Olly intentionally. Maybe they also ought to get married. 

“How do you get married?”

“I don’t know how it is for witches, honestly. For us non-witches, usually it’s some sort of local government person…like a village chief or someone, who makes it official.” 

“Ugh. So it’s like that.” Qifrey made a face. It would probably have something to do with the Wise in Principles. Ironically, the one person who’d know for sure was Easthies. That idiot. He was so obsessed with the rules and the law and all he could talk about was joining the Knights Moralis when he grew up. Ugh. No way. Qifrey would rather lose his eye than ask him. 

Sinocia smiled benevolently at him, then reached into her first aid box for a bandage. Qifrey watched her as she deftly unrolled the gauze. He narrowed his eye, nibbling on his lower lip as he did. The cooling gel on his cheek was already helping. It barely hurt. 

That gave him an idea. 

He heard the clip-clop of the sealchair before Beldaruit burst into the room. “Qifrey!” he exclaimed. “You were late getting back and the librarian sent word that you’d been injured—”

“I’m fine!”

“He’s fine,” Sinocia promised, raising her hands placatingly. “He had a small burn, but I’m almost done patching him up.”

Beldaruit hurried to his bed, grabbing Qifrey’s chin to examine him. Qifrey allowed it. “Is this from your spell?” he demanded. “That’s it, you’re going to discuss it with me and we’ll do it together. I don’t want you getting hurt trying dangerous things.”

Sinocia stuck some gauze on his cheek, where it adhered to the cooling gel. Beldaruit’s hand hovered worriedly over Qifrey’s back. Later, in the safety of his room, Beldaruit watched over Qifrey’s shoulder as he put in the finishing touches to his spell.

Studying Sinocia unroll the bandage had inspired him. First he made a steam cylinder, which was a bit like a water sphere, but with a few slight adjustments to the signs. Then he carefully “unrolled” the rose petals in a delicate whorl. Qifrey’s initial approach had been too drastic: a complete rose tart out of thin air. Now that he was breaking it up into attainable steps, it was a lot easier, plus prettier to look at. For the colour, he added a sigil to create pink light. It made the steam rose tart glow beautifully from the inside. 

Beldaruit clapped his approval. “Lovely, lovely work, my dear boy.”

Qifrey preened. He couldn’t help it. He genuinely enjoyed figuring out these magical problems. 

“Now tell me: why the rose tart?”

“You told me to show you something interesting.”

“Yes?”

“I like rose tarts. And so does Olruggio. He keeps wondering how they’re made. It’s interesting to think about.”

“Yes,” said Beldaruit warmly. “And they’re so delicious, too.”

“I wanted to do it with steam instead of water because…” Qifrey trailed off, scratching the back of his head. “I wanted to show Olly the spell. He’s so good with fire magic, I wanted to mix fire and water magic. I thought he’d like that.”

Beldaruit chuckled delicately in his hand. “You think very deeply about what your friend likes, hmm?” 

“So?” Qifrey was automatically defensive. It was this tone people got when they talked about him and Olly. As if he was being laughed at. What was so funny? 

“So, nothing,” Beldaruit replied easily. “It’s sweet.” 

Easthies

By the third day of Olly’s absence, people Qifrey had never even spoken to were coming up to him and asking if Olruggio was really his boyfriend. Seriously, why was it so hard to believe? Olruggio was a boy, and his friend. They spent every waking minute together. Everyone knew this. Unless they thought that Olly could do better than Qifrey. Which, yeah, okay, fair enough. Qifrey also didn’t know why Olly spent so much time with him. But regardless, they were best friends. Olly was his boyfriend. This shouldn’t have been such a surprise. 

One annoying girl asked if Qifrey planned to marry Olruggio, to which Qifrey snapped a swift, “Yeah, obviously.” Sinocia had made it pretty clear that marriage was what people did when they cared about each other and wanted to be together forever. And Qifrey wanted that with Olly. So, so badly. 

But that was when he ran into Easthies. Ugh. Any day that Qifrey spoke to him was a bad day. And today it was made even worse because Olly wasn’t there to make fun of him with Qifrey. 

“What?” Qifrey muttered, shoving past him in the cafeteria. Easthies grabbed his elbow. 

“Is it true you want to marry Olruggio?” he demanded, glaring down at Qifrey from his long, thin nose. 

“What’s it to you?”

“Just that you should know, you can’t. It’s against the rules. Boys can’t marry boys.” 

Qifrey faltered in whatever response he was about to yell. “Wait…why?”

“It’s the law,” Easthies said snidely. “You can be boyfriends if you want but you can’t marry.”

“What is your problem?” Qifrey squared his shoulders. He gripped his lunch tray fiercely, his nails digging into the wood. “Everything I do, it’s rules this, laws that, Day of the Pact blah-blah, you’re so—”

“So what?” Easthies goaded.

“ANNOYING.” 

Easthies scoffed. He primly swept off fake dust off his sleeve. (It had to be fake, anyway. They were under water. Where would dust even come from?) “Whatever,” he said calmly. “One-eyed freak.” 

The ensuing fight led to a whole table of food being toppled backwards while Qifrey sat on Easthies’ back and pulled him by his hair. “I’ll marry whoever I want,” he bellowed. “And you can’t stop me from marrying Olly!” 

Easthies used a hastily scribbled earth spell to chuck a floor tile at Qifrey’s head, and the pair of them had to be pulled apart by Master Vinanna, kicking and screeching. 

Beldaruit

Qifrey sprang awake that morning. Today was the day! Olly would be back. Last night had been a total wreck. Master Vinanna had dropped Qifrey off at Beldaruit’s doorstep, lecturing him and Qifrey both about starting fights, and then Qifrey had stormed off to bed without saying a word. Beldaruit had followed after him, gently asking if Qifrey wanted to talk about it, to which Qifrey had yelled, “He called me a one-eyed freak! Am I supposed to just take that?!” 

“Oh dear,” Beldaruit had sighed. “No, that’s unacceptable. I’ll have a word with Vinanna and Easthies both. You deserve an apology.”

Anyway.

That was last night. And today, Olly was back! 

Qifrey had so much to tell him. And show him. He was going to show him the rose tart spell, and give him the plushbuddy, and he had so many questions about Olly’s adventures in the outside world. He just hoped he was still Olly’s boyfriend after all of that. What if Olly had met someone else to hang out with on the surface?

No. Qifrey shook his head. He couldn’t think like that.

The clip-clop of the sealchair and a knock on the door. Beldaruit. “Come in,” Qifrey called. He was straightening his clothes and fixing his hair in the mirror. His hair never sat right. He wanted it to cover his eye. Yesterday’s fight and the burn from the day before had already left marks all over his face. The burn was already fading, but the bruises would take longer.

Beldaruit entered softly and shut the door. “Qifrey,” he said, his tone a little strange. Strain lines tightened around his eyes, and his expression was caught between a smile and a cringe. “Do you want to sit? I’d like it if we could chat.”

Qifrey frowned, but complied, perching himself on the edge of the bed. Beldaruit lowered the sealchair so they were both at eye level. “I spoke to Vinanna this morning. She’s going to ensure that Easthies apologises to you.”

“I don’t care about him. He’s stupid.”

“Yes, well, it’s still important that you receive an apology. Nobody has the right to speak to you that way.” 

Qifrey huffed, but didn’t protest. People said all sorts of things, behind his back and to his face. He didn’t care. Honest.

“She told me something else, too. Apparently you’ve been talking about wanting to marry Olruggio? Is that what you and Easthies fought about?”

Qifrey tilted his head. “Why does that matter?”

“I’m just curious. Humour me, all right?”

“Yes. Easthies said I can’t marry him. He’s such an annoying know-it-all! Olruggio is my boyfriend, I can marry him if I want.”

“Ah,” said Beldaruit, sitting back in his chair. He perched his chin on his palm and gazed intently at Qifrey. “Olruggio is your boyfriend? When did that happen?”

“Ages ago?” Why was Beldaruit asking him this, seriously? He was there for it all. “Keep up, old man.”

“I…oof.” Beldaruit rubbed his temples. “Okay, it would be careless of me not to ask. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but you are a child and I’m responsible for you. Have you two kissed? I know you are young, but children tend to experiment with these things.” 

“Huh?” 

“Have you kissed Olruggio? Do you—I just—the only reason I ask is because I want you to feel safe in whatever it is you are doing.” 

“Why would I kiss Olruggio?” He’d accidentally walked in on grown-ups kissing during his many wanderings around the Great Hall. The private spaces, under the stairs or in the nooks or crannies, was usually where Qifrey spotted them. It genuinely hadn’t even crossed his mind to try it himself. Of course, if he wanted to, he’d ask Olly and nobody else, but—

“Is he not your boyfriend?”

“Do I need to kiss him just because he’s my boyfriend?”

“Ah, I suppose not…” Beldaruit trailed off. He exhaled and slumped into his chair. “Well, that is a bit of a relief. You are so young, after all. And so is dear Olruggio! But I am happy for you, Qifrey, and I wholeheartedly support this. I’m so proud that you have found someone who makes you feel safe.” 

“Um…thanks?” Qifrey jumped off the bed. “Can I go now? Olly’s probably back and—” 

Beldaruit caught him by the scruff of the collar. “Not so fast. We’re not done. Do sit back down.” 

Qifrey groaned, but obeyed, slumping onto the bed again in a decidedly dramatic fashion, to show that he was not impressed with these useless delays. “What?” He was going for a drawl, but it came out more like a petulant whine.

“I think we should have the Talk.”

“Talk? What talk? We’re already talking.” 

Beldaruit pursed his lips. “I believe that knowledge is power. I want to arm you with knowledge, so that you can make informed decisions when the time comes.”

“Master, what are you going on about? Seriously.”

What followed was the most horrific thirty minutes of Qifrey’s life. And Qifrey’s earliest memories involved a waterlogged coffin. By the end of it Qifrey had thrown himself face-first into his pillows, yelling, “What do you think Olly and I do when we’re together? Shut upppppppp!” 

“Oh, come now, you’re being silly. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You're growing up.”

Qifrey threw himself out of bed and grabbed his spellcasting tools and the plushbuddy. “I’m going to go now! Let’s never talk about this again!” And he tore out of his bedroom as fast as his legs could carry him. 

He was sure his face was bright pink as he hurtled down the winding steps of the Great Hall, nearly knocking into people as he did. Did Beldaruit have to be so mortifying? Ugh!! UGH. Qifrey tried to shake the image away. Where was that Brimhat memory-wiping spell when he needed one? 

He was so distracted he crashed into Olruggio at the top of the steps to his atelier and sent them both flying backwards on the hard stone floor. 

“Olly!” Qifrey cried, surprise and alarm, and pure, unfiltered joy, breaking through the chaos of his mind. He pulled Olruggio into a fierce hug and managed only a second before the familiar spasm of pain cut into his eye. What was that? Why did it hurt so much? He gritted his teeth and pulled away, untangling himself from Olly and offering his hand to take.

“Qifrey,” Olruggio smiled, taking his hand and allowing himself to be pulled up.

“Olly, you won’t believe the conversation Beldaruit and I just had! Ugh, he’s so embarassing. Oh—but I got you something.” He shoved the plushbuddy into Olruggio’s hands. “It’s to help you sleep! I know you get nightmares sometimes, and Luluci and Utowin told me that I should get you a—”

“Qifrey—”

“And I made the coolest spell, I gotta show you, it’s like a steam rose tart, I know you love rose tarts, and I thought it would be nice do it with a fire and water sigil, and I even made it pink with light—”

“Qifrey! Slow down,” Olruggio laughed. He set the plusbuddy by his feet and placed both hands on Qifrey’s shoulders. “First, I gotta ask: why have you been telling everyone that I’m your boyfriend?” 

Olruggio

Qifrey blinked. Olruggio, too? He took a breath. His heart was racing, and he was still trying to catch up to his word-vomiting thoughts. “Because…you are?” he ventured. Olruggio’s eyes widened, a brilliant smile splitting his face.

“Am I? Wait, for real?”

“Um, yeah? Last I checked, you’re a boy, and you’re my friend.”

Olruggio’s smile shrivelled as quickly as it came. “Oh.” His shoulders drooped. “Oh, I see what happened.” 

“What?” Qifrey swallowed. He’d done something wrong. He’d upset Olly somehow. 

“You’re confused,” Olly said, his tone gentle and his eyes as kind as ever. He patted Qifrey’s shoulder, though it felt forced. “Boyfriend is like…a romantic term.” 

“Romantic? What’s that mean?”

If possible, Olruggio’s expression fell even further before he plastered on a fake smile. “Um, you know the story of the Silverwood maiden and the star? That…that’s a love story. That’s romance. That’s what it means to be, like girlfriend and boyfriend.”

Beldaruit had obviously told him the story. It was the most famous legend in witch culture. But he hadn’t put it in those terms. He’d never said ‘boyfriend, girlfriend’. Once, a Silverwood tree found love and belonging in a star. Qifrey genuinely couldn’t tell the difference between that and whatever he felt for Olruggio. Was it not the same? Love and belonging? 

Clearly, Olly thought otherwise. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and played with his hands. “So, um, you only get married to someone if you’re like, romantically together with them,” he explained. “I think you may have confused a lot of people by calling me your boyfriend.” 

“Oh,” said Qifrey. Suddenly, the embarrassment from earlier seemed distant and inconsequential to the shattering horror he felt now. “Sorry,” he mumbled, turning away. Olruggio grabbed his arm. 

“It’s okay!” he beamed, with false cheer. “You didn’t know! I’m not mad. And I don’t care what anyone thinks. You’re still my best friend in the whole world.” He picked up the plushbuddy that he’d laid at his feet and squeezed it in a tight hug. “This is so cute. I love it, thank you! You’re right, I do have trouble sleeping sometimes. And I totally want to see your rose tart spell. What does that even mean? I’m so curious! Ooh, and I got you some snacks from the surface. I gotta tell you all the stuff my master and I did, it was so wild…”

Qifrey allowed himself to be led into Olly’s atelier. He should have been overjoyed at his friend being back, but he just felt stupid and sad. How could he have been so idiotic? He wanted to pull his hair. He hated his stupid, empty brain. He hated that he couldn’t remember anything worth knowing. He hated that so much of the world was so foreign and confusing to him. Beldaruit had talked about knowledge being power, but why hadn’t he warned Qifrey that knowledge could be so painful, too?

Because Olruggio was not his boyfriend. No, obviously not. They were best friends, and that was it. He wouldn’t get to marry Olruggio. Boys didn’t marry boys and best friends didn’t marry each other. He’d probably embarrassed Olruggio a lot by referring to him as his boyfriend. Olly was too kind to say anything, but Qifrey was sure he was secretly furious. 

They chatted in Olly’s room for a while, sharing the snacks that he’d got from the surface. Olruggio told Qifrey about the dragon he’d seen, about the people he’d helped, about the new spell he’d learnt for beast-warding. Qifrey was happy to hear about it all, but he was also relieved to go home. He slunk back to his own atelier with his head low, trying and failing to hold back tears. Beldaruit found him like that, curled on the floor with his knees to his chin, crying softly. 

“Qifrey?” he asked, entering the bedroom. “You never came for dinner. Aren’t you eating?” He sighed when he saw Qifrey, and gently approached. The sealchair lowered itself enough that Beldaruit could pick him up and place him on his lap. “There, there, darling,” he whispered, patting Qifrey’s back. 

Qifrey didn’t care that he was being stupid and like a baby. He pressed his face into Beldaruit’s chest and let himself cry. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” his master said, stroking Qifrey’s back. “I want to help you, Qifrey. Come now, dear boy. Take a deep breath.”

“I’m such an idiot,” Qifrey mumbled thickly. “I got it all wrong. Olruggio is not my boyfriend, he’s my friend.”

“Ah…” Beldaruit hummed, rocking him gently against his body. Little by little, Qifrey managed to piece together the story. “It’s an innocent mistake, Qifrey. And Olruggio isn’t upset with you.”

“I feel stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Beldaruit wiped his eye with his thumb. “Take a deep breath…good, hold it. One, two, three…exhale. Very good.” He rubbed Qifrey’s arm. “You love Olruggio a lot, huh? You don’t need to put a label on that, my dear. Whether that’s as a friend, or a boyfriend, or anything else…the love you have is what matters, that’s what’s real. The rest is just language.” 

Qifrey sniffed. He wiped his eye with his fist. “I just…I don’t know why, I thought…What if he doesn’t…”

“Olruggio cares very dearly for you. That’s obvious to anyone. What matters is that he’s always there for you, and you’re always there for him. And you both have a lifetime to figure out who you want to be to each other! You’re only eleven, Qifrey! You’re a child. It’s okay to not know.”

“There’s already so much I don’t know,” Qifrey mumbled. He knew how pathetic he sounded. But he’d been so sure that Olruggio was his boyfriend. 

Beldaruit clicked his tongue. “You know that Olruggio cares about you, yes?”

“Yes.” Qifrey did know that. Olly had always made sure he knew that.

“And you know that you care about him?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a certainty even many adults don’t have.”

Qifrey considered this in silence as the sealchair began to move. They were going to the kitchen. “Come now,” Beldaruit said. “It’s time to eat. You’ll feel better after some soup and bread, I’m sure of it. And you can tell me: what did Olruggio think of your spell? Did he like it?”

“Yeah, he did." The memory of Olly's wondrous expression mended Qifrey's heart a little. "He said it made him hungry.” 

“Excellent.” Beldaruit deposited Qifrey into a dining table chair and went to retrieve a plate. Maybe Beldaruit was right. He was right about most things. Maybe it was okay to not have a word for it. As long as Qifrey and Olly were together, did the language matter at all? 

“People are going to gossip so much,” he groaned, despite himself.

“Oh? I thought you didn’t care about gossips.”

“I don’t.”

Beldaruit set down a bowl with soup and some fresh bread. There was a twinkle in his eyes. “Will you let me teach you some sneaky spells to get back at them?”

Qifrey thought about it, and managed a small, shy nod. “And I can show Olly the spells too, right?”

“You absolutely can.”

“Okay.” Qifrey managed a real smile. “Then please teach me tomorrow.”