Work Text:
It has been almost half a year since Qifrey was rid of the Silverwood. What little remained of his eyesight went with it, but that ended up being the least of his worries, oddly enough.
Casting spells he knew prior to the extraction was no difficult feat; after all, witches have to cast blind. He also had the advantage of spending his recovery period at home, in the house he built and knew like the back of his hand.
No, the real challenge was the state his body was in after hosting a parasite in it for the better part of his life.
Qifrey had woken up from his coma with a throbbing pain in his shoulder blade, right where he got injured by the Golem in the Serpentback Cave. The injury had never truly healed, which was fully, entirely, and unarguably, Qifrey’s fault. He was a witch, for crying out loud; he couldn’t just stop drawing and wait for his stupid shoulder to heal. That dull ache deep in his muscles would come back in waves whenever he exerted himself, now that the Silverwood wasn’t there to heal it for him.
At the end of the day, chronic pain was just another thing that bothered him every now and then; about as troublesome as his blindness. Losing his sight and his recklessness biting him in the ass were possibilities he knew could become realities. Finding out he was severely malnourished was what nothing could have prepared him for.
Qifrey had almost laughed when Sinoccia diagnosed him. Why, he practically spent all his time in his kitchen with his nose stuck in a cooking book! With Olruggio as his witness, he could be quite heavy-handed when indulging in their midnight delights. Nevertheless, he couldn’t argue with his diagnosis when he started moving around. A bone deep heaviness weighed him down constantly, and his lower body temperature proved to be much harder to ignore than usual. The Silverwood was no different from any other parasites, in that it needed nutrients to survive, and Qifrey was unable to provide enough for the two of them as he grew older.
So, for the next few months, Qifrey was put on a high-calorie diet to gain all the weight he should have had at his age. The results were slow, but noticeable; for the first time in his life, he actually felt at home in his body. He had lost most of the muscle mass he had gained during his days as a travelling witch, his body becoming softer instead, more rounded at the edges. He didn’t mind the extra weight; in fact, it was a welcome change as Olruggio and the girls agreed he felt more cuddly lately. He now got to live in a body that allowed him to teach his apprentices, carry them in his arms, run around with them outside on sunny days, tend to his garden, and go on long walks alone with the man he loves.
However, a change he certainly didn’t anticipate would come near the end of his long, arduous recovery.
“—Frey,” a voice called out to him in the darkness. Qifrey just grumbled in response and tried to fall asleep again.
But whoever was trying to reach him seemed persistent and didn’t relent. “Oi, Qifrey!”
Come now, it was still dark out! The first warm rays of the sun hadn’t even spilled through the windows yet. And his bed was so comfortable…
Well, less comfortable than usual, if he was being honest. Was there something pressing into his stomach? Goodness, maybe he fell asleep on top of one of Olruggio’s contraptions again. Well, that aught to teach him a lesson to keep his bed tidy, or to stop letting him go to sleep on his own!
A warm hand rested on his shoulder, shaking him awake. “Qifrey, c’mon, you can’t fall asleep like that…”
He finally blinked his eye open, and recognised the blurry, dark silhouette in front of him.
“Hmm, morning Olly,” he mumbled out.
“Uhm, nope, still nighttime. Sorry t’wake you love, it’s just… looks like yer cycle started up again.”
All remaining traces of sleep left Qifrey in an instant, his blood running cold. He sat up and wrenched the blanket off his body in one swift movement. Sure enough, he could just vaguely make out a darker spot spreading all over the lighter sheets underneath him.
The growing embarrassment made warmth rise to his cheeks. He hid his face in his hands and curled up on himself, as though that would hide the mess Olruggio surely already saw. “No, this can’t be happening,” he muttered under his breath, as though that would change his current reality. “I’m so sorry Olly, I’ll wash and change the sheets, don’t worry!”
Qifrey scrambled to his feet, moving off the bed as quickly as possible to tear the covers off the bed, and praying to whatever God there was that he didn’t stain the mattress.
“Woah, calm down Qifrey!” Olruggio gently held him by the wrist, making him stop in his tracks. “I didn’t wake you up for that. Do you need help getting to the bathroom? I could draw you a bath while I handle the sheets.”
Qifrey immediately jolted away like he had been burned, and tried to pull the sheets off their bed one more time—oh, Stars, what if it bled through the mattress?! “Don’t be silly, I couldn’t ask you to do that! I’m the one who made a mess, I can clean it up myself.” He heard Olruggio move before the sheets were promptly ripped right out of his hands.
“I know you didn’t ask; you don’t hafto!” He shot back. Qifrey stood there, absolutely dumbfounded as he fidgeted with his empty hands. “Now let’s get you in the bath before your new nightgown’s ruined.”
They walked across the catwalk and into the main building, with Olruggio walking ahead and Qifrey on his arm, holding him just above his elbow. He could walk around the Atelier alone just fine, but preferred to have someone with him when walking around at night, just in case.
Qifrey focused on each step and turn and tried to guess where they were as they made their way through their house. Everything was going smoothly, until they reached the living room and he had to stop.
The other man’s voice came through as a light whisper through the darkness. “Qifrey? Y’alright dove?” he asked under his breath.
The only sound that came out of Qifrey’s mouth was a low, pained groan as he doubled over, clutching his stomach with one hand, and Olruggio’s arm with the other. His breath came in difficultly with sharp pants, as a particularly painful cramp threatened to make him keel over and spill his insides all over the floor. He was only vaguely aware of Olruggio pulling him into his arms and holding him up by his waist, which he couldn’t be more thankful for. He knew he most likely wouldn’t have been able to get up on his own if he had crumbled to the ground then. Eventually, the pressure on Qifrey’s abdomen eased up, but his legs trembled like leaves.
Olruggio’s voice broke through the darkness like a lighthouse guiding ships through a storm. “Feelin’ better?”
Still leaning forward, Qifrey buried his face in the space between Olruggio’s neck and shoulder, and hummed in response. “More or less…”
“… Can I carry ye?”
Qifrey’s first instinct was to decline, assure him he was fine and would be able to walk in just a moment… But his legs made it very clear they were not on board with his plan.
“I don’t know, can you?” he shot back, admittedly doing a terrible job at feigning amusement.
Olruggio scoffed in response. “Excuse you, I’ve been working out! ‘sides, how heavy can you be?”
Qifrey sighed, relenting as no other option magically fell out of the sky. “Knock yourself out.”
A hand settled on his back, and another on the back of his legs. Before he knew it, Olruggio swept him up in his arms in a bridal carry. Qifrey was so disoriented now with his feet off the ground and face pressed into the other witch’s shirt, breathing in the sweet earthy smell of the lingering traces of cologne. He floated in his arms, as though Olruggio carried him far away from his sore, aching body. Qifrey might have actually fallen asleep like that, rocked by Olruggio’s steps, if it weren’t for the uncomfortable sensation of wet fabric clinging to his thighs.
“Hold on tight, I need a hand free,” said Olruggio as he stopped before what Qifrey assumed to be the bathroom door. One of his hands left Qifrey’s back just long enough to open and close the door behind them. “Mind if I put you down on the edge of the bath?”
Qifrey nodded. “Yes, thank you Olly,” he said.
The gentleness with which Olruggio put him down against the stone floor, handling him like something precious, made his heart squeeze almost painfully. Of course, no pain actually came seeing as any feeling of comfort no longer came with the pain of something foreign moving right under the surface of his skin. In the place of roots squirming through the tight fit of muscle, nerves, and bones were his own blood, pumped harder by his quickening heartbeat. Right, well, speaking of blood…
Qifrey tugged on the strings of his nightgown—thick, light cotton adorned with lace that covered most of his body. His nimble fingers searched for the knot, and slowly but efficaciously untied it. He slipped it past his head, careful not to let the bottom half touch his hair, as the very thought of having to wash his hair letter would be enough to drive him mad.
A click followed by the sound of water rushing to gather in one spot made him look up where he knew the modified vapor bubble hung from the ceiling. Olruggio must have activated the spell that would later fill the tub built into the ground below. Qifrey allowed the warm water to touch his toes, gradually spreading under and then over his feet. He tried to relax, like normal people would when dipping their feet in a hot tub, but it seemed his body didn’t get the message.
Once again, Qifrey groaned and doubled over as the muscles in his abdomen contracted, sending waves of pain down to his pelvis. He wrapped his arms around himself, and squeezed as hard as he could as a fruitless attempt to alleviate the pain. Why, he had half a mind to carve his treacherous uterus out of his body and throw it into the sea, but he kept such musings to himself.
Not unlike waves pulling back from the shore after crashing against the sand, his cramps eased up once more. That’s when he finally took note of the warmth on his lower back, rubbing soothing circles on his exposed skin, was Olruggio’s hand. Qifrey let himself tip to the side, entrusting his limp body to the safe space that was Olruggio’s arms. Olruggio held him close to his heart, pulling him in a gentle embrace. This wasn’t the first time Qifrey laid himself bare—in every sense of the word—to his lover, nor would it be the last. He was safe in his arms; if he wasn’t sure of anything else, at least he knew he could be sure of that.
“It’s full love; you ready to get in?” Olruggio asked.
Qifrey gave a sleepy hum in response, nodding for good measure. He tore himself away from Olruggio with great effort, allowing him to lead him down the stairs that gave way to the tub. He kept his hand in his for as long as he possibly could, craving his warmth when they eventually let go.
Qifrey’s legs cut through the water as he walked over to the centre of the room under the vapor bubble. He gathered some of the water in the palm of his hands and washed off before sinking into the bath with a content sigh.
“I’ll be right back, I need to wash and change the sheets,” Olruggio explained. “Will you be alright on yer own?”
The clingy, needy thing that had settled in Qifrey’s chest since the day he met Olruggio wanted to throw a tantrum like a petulant child and scream and cry and stomp his feet in protest. Instead, Qifrey just smiled and nodded.
“Of course,” he assured him. “Don’t worry about me.”
Olruggio laughed, gruff and low. “Ye do realise who yer talking to, right? Sorry, but I will be worrying quite a lot actually; it’s what I do best.”
The sound of footsteps echoed throughout the room before Olruggio closed the door behind him. Qifrey was alone with his thoughts and the water. No matter how hard he tried, he knew this fear of water was something he would never be able to work past; not more than he already has at least. He could yield it, tolerate it, but there lied his limit.
He knocked his head back, letting it rest against the wall behind him. Plunged in darkness, he could let his mind wander with more ease, allowing him to imagine he was anywhere else.
The warmth of the water turned into the warmth of the sun against his skin. He could confuse the hard wet stones underneath him for the bench he liked sitting on in his garden, or even the ground in which he planted fruits and vegetables.
As soon as he actually began to relax, Qifrey’s stomach tensed again; retribution for how he neglected his health for all these years. Try as he might to stay quiet, a deep keen slipped past his lips not unlike the sound a wounded animal might make. In his dazed state, he might actually have weakly called out for Olruggio, which was more embarrassing that he would care to admit.
After a while, the only thing Qifrey had the energy left to do was sit and wait for Olruggio to come back and help him out of the bath. His eye closed on its own, and it didn’t take much longer for him to fall into a restless sleep.
Qifrey woke up not long after when someone picked him up in their arms and carried him out of the bathroom.
“Wh—What’s…”
He calmed down upon realising Olruggio’s voice was the one that answered him. “It’s just me dove, I’m getting you to bed. Just relax aight?”
But Qifrey was wide awake. He leaned closer to Olruggio, rocked by slight swaying movements as he walked. Before he knew it, he was being lowered down onto a clean bed with freshly washed sheets that smelled of lavender. But Qifrey wrapped his arms and legs possessively around Olruggio, an unspoken protest as he tried to pull away.
“C’mon Qifrey,” he said, while laughing—not unkindly—at his lover’s antics. “I got you some things from the girls’ cabinet; should hold you over until tomorrow”
The sleepy, clingy witch laid still for a moment, pondering whether his cramps or the blood pouring out of him outweighed his need to keep Olruggio hostage in their bed for the foreseeable future. The scale tipped heavily in the favour of tugging Olruggio down on top of him—that is, until he remembered he would actually die from embarrassment if he made Olruggio have to change the sheets twice.
Olruggio pressed soft things into his hands; one of which he recognised to be a clean pair of underwear, followed by a sanitary pad, courtesy of the Healing Spire. They were the softest, most comfortable pair of underwear Qifrey owned, which was a nice change of pace after years of denying himself basic comfort. He smiled and thanked him, shuffling off the bed to slip it on. Despite his protests that he could handle it himself—which he honestly wasn’t entirely sure of—Olruggio helped slip the pad in place. Now that he was sure he wouldn’t stain their bed again, Qifrey sat back down on the bed with a soft poof.
“I made you some Tranquileaf tea as well; Should help with your cramps.” Olruggio pressed the warm cup between his palms and made sure Qifrey had a good grip on it before letting go.
Qifrey could feel his heart swell; he wondered what he did to deserve such a kind man to spend the rest of his life with. What a privilege it was that he got to care for him and to be cared for by him.
“Always so thoughtful, thank you my dearest.”
Olruggio made a sound Qifrey couldn’t quite place, maybe something out of embarrassment or disagreement. It’s nothin’ love, he’d say, you don’t have to thank me for stuff like that. Truth be told, this adamant refusal to let himself be thanked irritated Qifrey a little. After all, thanking him for being there, for loving him were words that fit so naturally in Qifrey’s mouth.
He was often teased both by the girls and Olruggio for his perpetually cold hands, so the extra heat on his fingertips was more than appreciated. He blew on the hot drink, careful not to add to his list of burns he has earned in the kitchen since he has lost his vision. It warmed him from the inside out, like a heavy blanket had been draped over him.
Qifrey made quick work of his tea, feeling around for the bedside table before setting it down.
He finally laid back down against his pillow, and relished the feeling of Olruggio’s empty spot being filled. His Olly, his perfect, hard working partner, was toiling away on a commission from the moment he woke up to the wee hours of the night. He must have been so tired, and still he went out of his way to make sure Qifrey was comfortable. Even now, when he should finally be resting, his hands found their way down to his lover’s stomach where he massaged the soft skin there.
Qifrey’s eye fluttered shut, and he pressed his face to Olruggio’s fuzzy chest, breathing in the familiar smell there.
“Thank you so much Olly,” He mumbled against his skin.
Olruggio gave a low chuckle, rumbling deep in his chest. “What're you blathering on about? You don’t have to thank me for that!”
Qifrey’s remaining eye just about rolled to the back of his head. “I know I don’t, but I still like doing it!” he argued. “I’m thankful you’re here and that I get to be with you like this, that’s all.”
Olruggio stilled for a moment and sighed, exhaling from deep within his lungs. “Ack, Qifrey…” His hands left Qifrey’s waist and moved to pull his body closer against his.
Qifrey loved that protective hold, it could put him to sleep more effectively than any spell ever would.
“Well, I like looking after you,” Olruggio added. “And when you get all flustered, I dunno, it’s remindin’ me yer not used to that stuff. I wish you wouldn’t think twice about it, that someone treating you the way you aught to be is just normal.”
Silence settled on the room after that declaration, like a tangible mist coaxing the last wakened residents of the atelier to sleep. Olruggio, wondering why Qifrey wasn’t answering, pulled away to look at his face, only to find him snoring away peacefully.
The witch’s fake exasperated sigh turned into an amused chuckle. “Sweet dreams love.”