Chapter Text
“He looks so peaceful.”
“I wonder if he's dreaming.”
“Ooo! Maybe he’s dreaming about us!”
Those were the first words out of Agott, Richeh, and Tetia’s mouths upon seeing Master Qifrey laying comatose in his hospital bed. They were in one of the most closed-off wings of the Great Hall’s Medical Spire, one that typically didn’t allow visitors. But for the girls’ sake (and Olruggio’s dogged insistence), an exception was made. Besides, it was the first time anyone had seen him in over a month, since the…well…since the incident.
“Excuse me, ladies!” Sinocia shooed Agott, Richeh, and Tetia from the side of the bed, wheeling a pole bearing a pouch filled with cloudy liquid that hung from a hook at its top. Ermile trailed not too far behind with a tray of sterilized tools, among them a strange glass and metal vial with a needle on its end. It immediately caught Agott’s attention.
“What on earth is that?” she asked, partly curious, partly distressed by the fragile state her beloved mentor was in.
“An intravenous needle. It’s a newer invention,” Sinocia answered, disinfecting the pit of Qifrey’s elbow before swiftly inserting the aforementioned needle, then using a bandage to keep the vial secured against his arm. Tetia winced at the act, clutching fistfuls of a seated Olruggio’s cloak.
“We usually use it to administer liquid medications. But in your professor’s case, it’s to make sure he’s fed and hydrated, even if he can’t eat or drink in the usual sense,” Ermile added. Agott and Richeh watched as Sinocia connected the tube from the cloudy pouch to the vial attached to the intravenous needle, watching the liquid flow down until it filled the vial. Tetia, shaking, burrowed her head into Olruggio’s shoulder.
“Shhh, it’s alright.” Olruggio lifted a Tetia into his lap, let the poor girl nuzzle herself into the crook of his neck. He stroked her back until her shaking started to settle.
And then there was Coco, silent and motionless, watching everything unfold from the foot of the bed. Goodness, Qifrey looked so frail, hair shaggy and brittle, cheeks hollowed, fingers bony, his clavicle visible even through his hospital gown. And to think her fellow apprentices were hung up over some needles and tubing.
What have I done? Coco couldn’t help but think to herself. Yes, she played a major part in removing the silverwood tree parasite from her teacher, and yes, this was all for the best. But seeing her mentor now, in this state? Coco was starting to wonder if removing the silverwood tree parasite was worth all of this.
“Coco, we’re heading out.” Coco felt a warm hand squeeze her shoulder. Olruggio’s hand.
“Of course,” she sighed with a faint smile, eyes still on Qifrey until they all left his hospital room.
Dinner back at the atelier was a quiet affair. Carrot soup topped with watercress. Rye bread. Salted butter. Some hard cheese. Everyone pitched in with clearing the table and washing dishes afterwards, all in silence. Even the usual commotion that accompanied bedtime was muted, reserved. But while the other girls headed off to sleep, Coco still felt restless. And as she sneaked out of her room, she found Olruggio curled in on himself by the fireplace.
“Master Olly?” Coco slowly approached, then settled next to him. “You okay?”
“What do you think, kid?” he sniffled.
Coco playfully slumped into Olruggio’s side, giving his arm gentle, reassuring pats. “It’s like Master Qifrey used to say: ‘it’s alright to not be al—”
“Oh, shut it!” Olruggio snapped, instantly regretted it. “Coco, I’m sorry.”
“I get it.” And if that wasn’t the first time Coco let herself cry in a long time. “It’s hard seeing him like that.”
“Yeah.” Olruggio bit his lip, thinking it would help him hold back his tears (it didn’t). “It is.”
They didn’t speak for a while after that, eyes fixed on the dying hearth until it quieted into glowing embers.
It was Coco who broke the festering silence. “You think he’s still in there?” she asked. And if that question didn’t damn near break Olruggio’s heart.
“Of course he is,” Olruggio answered.
Because Qifrey had to be.