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The essence of water magic is exactly what Olruggio would expect-- smooth, sinuous, and adaptable to change. He would additionally expect the proctors of said magic (especially proctors with slender limbs and legs as long as a crane's) to possess the ability to dance just as fluidly.
Imagine his surprise when Qifrey, the boy he's known his whole life to be slender, admits that he can't dance.
"I've just never had the knack for it, I suppose," he laughs, running his fingers down his neck. They're in the kitchen, surrounded by wafting waves of cinnamon from the cake Tetia had made.
"Knack," Olruggio repeats, and he crosses his arms skeptically as he leans back in his chair. "Yes, I see through your logic with crystal clarity."
Qifrey's lips twitch up in a playful smile. "What are you talking about?"
"You spontaneously become a master witch with water, which you've never liked, and then claim you don't have knacks for trivial things like dancing."
Qifrey hums. "I appreciate you noticing I despise water."
"It's been obvious since the day I met you," Olruggio grunts, scooping up the leftover plates and wincing when the bones in his back begin to crackle like sticks. He dumps them in the sink for future Olruggio to deal with and returns to the table.
Qifrey is certainly made for dancing. His body is by no means gaunt, but impossibly lithe. And he says I'm the one who needs more nutrition in his diet, Olruggio thinks somewhat bitterly, studying the knobs of his thin elbows, the near-vulpine grace to his movements as he stands and takes up the broom.
Struck with a sudden pang of determination, Olruggio stands himself.
"How about," he drawls, "a bet?"
"A bet?"
"You heard me."
Qifrey huffs through his nose, trying and failing to hide his amusement as he gathers dust into a neat little pile. "Olly..."
Olruggio bars his path and extends a hand. "Dance with me."
Qifrey blinks. Then, incredulous, snorts. "Olly--"
The Watchful Eye deftly captures Qifrey's fingers with one hand his hip with the other. Startled, Qifrey lets the broom fall with a sharp thud onto the cobblestone floor. And then, breathless, he asks, "What in the Sages' names are you doing?"
"Dancing," Olruggio says simply, offering a hint of a smile before guiding his partner to the living room.
Qifrey scoffs. "You're trying to torture me."
"Torture you?"
"You heard me," he replies dryly.
"And why"-- Olruggio dips Qifrey low, chuckling when the latter gasps and tightens his grip exponentially on his hand-- "is that?"
"Beldaruit," Qifrey snaps, "forced me to dance with him one Silver Eve. I've never been subjected to anything worse."
Olruggio draws him back up only to spin him around. "Where was I during this fiasco?"
"Having a contest with Hiehart on who could eat the most fig pies."
Frowning, Olruggio mumbles, "I have no recollection of that."
And Qifrey smiles; it doesn't quite reach his gaze. "You know you have a rather fallible memory," he says softly.
They spend a few moments swaying before the hearth. Embers flicker over Qifrey's face, and the spilt moonlight through the windows lacquer his skin to ivory. Olruggio knows he looks the same as every other day-- scruffy and unkempt, black hair ruffled from yet another night sleeping on the wrong side of the bed.
But with Qifrey, he thinks himself a bit more bearable.
Qifrey clears his throat, snapping him out of his thoughts. "What was your bet, then?"
"Ah. Well." Olruggio cocks his head playfully. "If you're adamant on your distaste towards dancing, then I'd like to propose a challenge."
"Mm," Qifrey says, intrigued.
Olruggio's hand clutches Qifrey's hip a bit harder. "If you can spend tonight with me, dancing, then I'll give you something."
"A bet implies there's a reward for both parties."
Olruggio smiles wider. "Mm, and if you admit that you enjoy it by the end of the night, you have to look after Tetia and Coco on their next expedition to Kalhn."
Qifrey cringes. "Oh, goodness, no..."
"And you must go on a picnic with me next week."
Scrambling over his tongue, Qifrey takes a defiant step back. "And how would you know if I did happen to enjoy it? I would never confess--"
"My star," Olruggio sighs, "your indomitable spirit is a feat, but you're dreadfully terrible at controlling your expressions."
Qifrey shifts, and a shaft of moonlight falls across his cheek. He attempts to school his features into neutrality, but Olruggio can still see that he's formulating a response.
"What do I get if I win?" he asks.
"It's a surprise."
"Sounds like a shoddily-made bet, don't you think?"
"Sounds like just the thing you're prone to accepting."
An ember pops loudly over the logs, accentuating the silence. Olruggio waits patiently.
Ever the competitor, Qifrey exhales.
"Fine," he grunts. "But if you step on my feet like Beldaruit did, I'm going to bed."
Liar. "Alright, love." He steps backward. "Shall we begin?"
Qifrey, never without a smile, aquatic prodigy, blushes. "How--" He clears his throat. "What do I...?"
"First step is to relax. You're stiff as a tree sometimes." Olruggio laughs as Qifrey's shoulders slump dramatically. "It has to be natural. Find your flow, don't force it."
"I'm not," Qifrey shoots back, shaking his head. It's only then when Olruggio notices the light sprinkling of snow outside the window, accumulating on the glass.
"So defensive," he murmurs. "We'll start with a slow dance. Put your left hand on my shoulder."
Hesitant, Qifrey does.
"Stick your other hand out to the side."
He does.
"Bend your elbow," Olruggio says as he entwines their fingers together. Like before, he fits his free hand into the hollow of Qifrey's hip, the tight fabric of his undershirt cool against his palm.
"Now," Olruggio hums, "we dance."
Qifrey looks unsure, but it's already too late, because Olruggio is leading him in a lazy, idle circle around the living room. Their cadence is unorganized and unbalanced given Qifrey's clumsy feet and constant stumbling-- Olruggio doesn't mind. He smiles when Qifrey steps on his toes and mutters a hasty apology.
"I'm horrid." His face is absolutely mortified, and it brings Olruggio so much delight. "Ugh, I don't know why I agreed to this."
"Because you're loveably impulsive."
"Loveably? That isn't the word you used last time."
Olruggio cocks a brow, spinning them clockwise. "The last time you were impulsive, you literally hurled yourself off a cliff."
Qifrey snorts and opens his mouth--
A crash echoes behind them. And then a frustrated "Coco!"
They release each other immediately, Olruggio swiveling to the door where four young misfits stand in the archway. Coco is frozen in an outstretched position over a shattered porcelain vase.
"Sorry," she peeps.
"I told you to be quiet!" Tetia exclaims, propping her hands on her hips. "But does anyone ever listen to Tetia? Nooo..."
"And I told you it was stupid to come down here in the first place," Agott hisses, eyeing the vase. "They're clearly in the middle of something."
Qifrey breathes a laugh as Olruggio narrows his eyes. "What are you doing up? It's well past your bedtimes."
" 'S cold," Richeh mutters. Tetia nods her exuberant agreement.
Coco tucks a strand of meadow-grass hair behind her ear, face still red from her tumble. "It's just... None of us could sleep since it's freezing outside, and I thought..." She looks at Qifrey sheepishly. "You make hot chocolate for us sometimes, Master."
Aghast, Olruggio shoots Qifrey an accusatory glare. "Why have I never had the pleasure of drinking your hot chocolate?"
"You're always passed out drunk on the sofa," Qifrey says coolly.
Agott grabs the collar of Tetia's collar and starts hauling her away. "We'll leave now," she snaps.
"No, no." Olruggio's words cause her to halt. "Then you climbed that flight of stairs for nothing. I'm cruel, but not that cruel." He clucks his tongue expectantly. "Would you like to dance with us?"
Tetia squeals and breaks free from Agott's grip, practically bouncing over to Olruggio. "I love dancing," she gasps, making her cherry-pink hair bob up and down. She whips her head to the others. "Coco?"
"Oh, uh..." She clears her throat, tipping her head to hide behind her curtain of green-gold hair. "I'm not... the best dancer."
Tetia harrumphs and hauls Coco over her shoulder, the latter shyly flushed once more but giggling all the same. Richeh follows, muttering something incoherent about carving her own destiny and whatnot.
Agott remains in the archway.
"Would you like to join us?" Qifrey lets the invitation dangle in the air.
Agott shakes her head, voice uncharacteristically quiet. "I'll just sit by the fire."
Qifrey nods and doesn't pry.
"So," Olruggio proclaims. "What shall we do first?"
"Twirling!" Tetia kicks back on her heel and spins, her nightgown blossoming out around her. As expected, she sways heavily and staggers to the floor with a loud oof.
Olruggio can't hold back a slight smile. "Now, the first step to twirling, especially with another person, is to find your center of balance. Try standing on one leg."
The three girls try. It's adorable, like watching molting flamingoes trying to find their footing for the first time. Out of all of them, Richeh is the steadiest-- she only wobbles once, and recovers quickly.
"Don't force it," he warns, shooting a pointed look at Qifrey, who returns it with a teasing flick of his tongue. "Find it. Preferably..." He looks outside, at the early dusting of stars. "Within an hour or so. I don't need four of you rascals suffering from sleep deprivation."
After a few minutes of tedium, each girl can stand somewhat well on one leg. (For Tetia it requires extra effort and a lot of arm-flapping.)
"If you're going to twirl another person," Olruggio starts, "what's the first step there?"
"Hold their hand," Tetia guesses.
"Spin them. It's quite obvious," Richeh wisps.
Olruggio's eyes land on Coco.
"Um," she stammers, "well, isn't the first step to ask them?"
"Perfect." His praise makes her look away. "Yes, what you want to do first is ask. Watch as I demonstrate."
He turns to Qifrey, bowing theatrically and lifting his hand to his lips. "My kindest, brightest star," he murmurs, kissing his knuckles. "May I humbly request the pleasure of dancing with you?"
Qifrey's face is the color of rose petals. "Why..." He coughs. "Why of course, good sir."
Olruggio winks at him and turns back to the girls. "What was it that Tetia said? Hold their hand."
Tetia reaches for Coco's hand but pauses. "My fair lady," she purrs, curtsying regally, "may I humbly... erm... ask you... to dance with me?"
"Of course," Coco replies, offering her own curtsy back.
Olruggio glances at Richeh, but her arms are folded defiantly. "Richeh does what Richeh wants," she says under her breath.
Tetia holds Coco's hand and asks, "Now what?"
"Now Coco, turn to face the wall."
She does.
"Tetia," Olruggio instructs. "Spin her."
She blinks. "Really? Just like that? It's not fancy, or anything?"
"Don't overthink it."
Hesitating just a little, Tetia twists her arm so that Coco turns like a little ballerina on a music box. Tetia gasps, excited, and twirls her over and over until Coco is choking through laughter to stop.
"Just like that," Olruggio says, and a little ember of pride ignites in his chest. It fizzles out a little when his eyes flick to Agott by the hearth, her body folded in on itself like a butterfly. He can see the barely-concealed want behind the violet of her gaze, understands it all too well.
"Qifrey."
"Hm?"
"How cold is it?"
Qifrey looks amused. "And you say my vision's impaired."
He sees the idea in Olruggio's expression, though. Agott has always fancied the cold.
"Get your coats on, everyone," Olruggio announces. "We're going out."
Qifrey blanches. "To Kalhn? In this weather?"
"To the garden, you numbskull. Hurry before I change my mind."
Tetia canters over to the coat rack and pulls on her swan-feather coat, as do Coco and Richeh. Agott stands. Lingers.
"Come," Olruggio murmurs, putting a hand on the small of her back. "You'll like it."
"I don't need you to tell me that," she grunts, but tugs on her coat all the same.
The girls exit through the courtyard door, and Olruggio stops Qifrey when he tries to follow.
"You're not going out in that."
"My cloak is in the wash," Qifrey says. "I'll be fine."
"You'll freeze to death and I'll have to relay the news to the girls that their Master turned into a popsicle."
"Olly," Qifrey says sternly. "I'll be fine."
Olruggio pulls off his own cloak, draping it across Qifrey's shoulders. When he tries to protest, Olruggio cuts him off: "I used to live in Ghodrey, remember? The land of eternal winter, whatever tourists called it. I'm used to the cold."
"And I'm not?"
Olruggio grabs his hand and pulls him out of the atelier. His point is proven when Qifrey suddenly shudders, snow swiftly gathering on the nest of his white hair.
Moonlight makes the flakes look silver as they cascade down from the sky. Tetia sticks her tongue out, attempting to catch some. Coco spins around a bit and Richeh inspects a dead blossom.
Agott stays on the path, staring down.
"Stomp on one," Olruggio says.
Her eyes flash, and for a moment he thinks she might not just to spite him, but she does. The cobblestone is swallowed in liquid golden light, illuminating her face, her raven-black hair.
"Glowstones," she whispers.
Olruggio nudges her shoulder playfully. "Impressive, aye?"
"I... Not in the slightest."
"Keep telling yourself that." He offers a hand. "Dance with me?"
Conflict dances in her eyes, her lips pressed together. Her whole body seems as though it's poised to bolt at any minute.
To his surprise, she takes his hand.
He guides her around the garden in a slow waltz, her body tense all the while. But the algorithm of her movements compared to the others is pleasantly smooth. Inexperienced, sure, but graceful and easy like a fox's might be.
"You're good at this."
She huffs. "Don't lie to me."
"When have I ever lied to you?"
"You told me Master Qifrey ate the last of the carapace yams last week when I found a stash of them hidden under the sofa."
He shakes his head. "Truly delusional..."
She whacks his arm, turning away. A twitch of a smile rests on her lips.
Surrounded by crickets and starlight and frost, Olruggio asks, "Do you want to dance with Coco?"
Agott swivels back around. "What? Why have you-- what gave you that impression?"
Her words are rambling and too fast. Paired with the way her eyes glint at Coco's name, Olruggio can surmise a thing or two about their relationship.
"I think you should go for it," he muses, laughing when she blushes. "You're an exquisite dancer, and Coco loves you."
"Not like that," Agott whispers.
"Maybe not yet. But maybe in the future."
Olruggio releases her. With a tentative blink, Agott turns and makes her way over to the others.
"Relationship advice?" Qifrey says behind him. "Never thought of you like that."
"I'm a man of many talents," Olruggio teases. "And besides, it got me this far, hasn't it?"
A cacophony of squeals catches his attention. The girls are dancing over the glowstone path, golden light haloeing their faces. Agott's arm is hooked with Coco's, the former looking absolutely frightened to be in her vicinity but happy all the same.
"That look," Olruggio says. "It reminds me of myself."
"What, the hopeless romantic look?"
"Precisely." Olruggio starts to walk. "Come on."
For a while, Olruggio demonstrates examples of the limited amount of dance knowledge he gained from his time traveling. When he dips Qifrey, he blushes again, and Tetia chatters relentlessly about how red he looks. At one point, Agott laughs, and Olruggio tucks it into the archives of his mind for the future.
Tetia is the most reckless, of course, flinging herself over the glowstones, waving all four of her limbs in cartwheels and somersaults and moves that don't even resemble classic dances. Richeh twirls fondly, her steps more cautious but free, in her own sort of way. And Agott...
He smiles. She and Coco are fumbling with each other's hands, mumbling strings of words to each other as they figure out what they're doing. Every time Coco laughs, Agott shyly looks up and smiles.
Qifrey looks at the sky, breathless from dancing. "Goodness, we should go back inside."
Olruggio nods. "We should."
He shooes the girls inside like flies, ignoring their whining (Richeh is the only one who obeys with complete complacency).
"Hot chocolate?" Tetia gasps, leaning on her palms on the counter.
"It's far too late," Qifrey laughs. "Tomorrow, certainly. Now, you must go to bed."
Tetia pouts and practically melts into a sad puddle as she slinks from her chair and onto the floor. She and Richeh say their goodnights and head upstairs, and Olruggio doesn't miss the way Richeh moves her fingers, as if orchestrating an invisible symphony.
He also doesn't miss how Agott and Coco are still holding hands.
"Did you enjoy your dance?" he asks, and that's all it takes to get Agott to rip away from Coco, wiping her palms on her nightgown.
Coco smiles, and it's bright as sunshine. "Very must, Master Olruggio. Thank you so much for, you know... letting us."
"We never let down our students," Qifrey hums. "Go to bed, both of you. We'll see you in the morning."
They oblige. Their feet are quiet, and so are their words, as they climb up to their room.
Olruggio takes Qifrey outside again, the snow light and pretty.
"My cloak looks good on you."
Qifrey chuckles. "Is that so?"
"Very much," Olruggio breathes. And it's true. Qifrey's always been an unearthly sort of beautiful, even when donning his own ugly dark cloak. It's magic, really.
Qifrey shuffles his feet, glowstones flickering under him. "I did enjoy tonight," he says quietly. "I suppose you win."
"I knew I would."
"You don't have to brag."
"Don't I?" Olruggio gives him a lopsided smirk as he starts to dance with him. "Pity. If you won, I was going to give you a kiss."
"Only a kiss?" Qifrey puts both hands on Olruggio's shoulders. "Rather tame for you."
Before he can respond, Qifrey presses his lips to Olruggio's. And though he is used to the cold, he feels a sweet warmth inside of him that he's glad he has the privilege of receiving. Olruggio kisses back, fitting his palms on Qifrey's hips, pulling him closer.
Qifrey draws back, and the stars snag on his sapphire eye. "Let's just... sway, for a little while."
"Anything for you."
Qifrey smiles, then closes his eyes. He leans his forehead against Olruggio's.
Their footsteps aren't perfect. Neither are the girls'. But it soothes his heart to think of them, laughing and dancing in the snow-laden garden. He knows he'll tire in the morning. But he is content right now.
And so Olruggio and his star dance until dawn spills over the horizon and turns everything to gold.