Work Text:
Qifrey ends his day having sent his girls off to their rooms to wind down for the evening. He typically trusts that they won't stay up too late, although that doesn't mean he never foregoes the worry in the first place. After all, what kind of Master would he be if he didn't worry at all?
If he thinks further--making his way back to the kitchen to brew some tea--Qifrey could note that he hadn't really seen his dearest friend much during the day. Of course, this could be a very normal occurrence. Olruggio was known for boarding himself away in his tower while he was hard at work. Of course, that also often meant that the man tended to neglect himself in favor of his commissions. Whatever was Qifrey to do with him?
The witch gives a thoughtful hum as the kettle begins to steam, removing the thing from the heat before moving to dish out a bowl of his stew. Figuring it likely that Olly hadn't yet eaten, visiting the man's workshop with an offering felt.. right.
Qifrey loads up the tea, stew, as well as two small bowls for drinking onto a tray. Making his way across the catwalk towards the tower housing the workshop of his Watchful Eye. Upon arriving, he shifts the tray to sit carefully on one arm before knocking on the door. " Olly? " He begins, raising his voice to ensure he could be heard. " Are you in? May I come inside? "
If one were to ask Olruggio of Torch what he’d spent the better part of the day doing, he’d tell you he was fiddling around to fine tune a spell. And to his merit, he wouldn’t be lying. Some of the finer keystones just weren’t doing the things they were meant to do, which was frustrating in and of itself. And that was endlessly frustrating. But what truly bothered him the most was how fuzzy everything felt. His brain was… foggy? That was the best way he could explain it. Maybe it could explain why the lines weren’t going the way he’d want to.
With a sigh, Olruggio started to lean forward slightly. Maybe he just needed to look at the spell from a different angle? But caution, especially with a fire sign, is crucial. A sudden knock, a dash of a line through the spell, thankfully not closing it, was maybe a sign to set the drafts aside. He cleared his throat, turning slowly to the door.
“Uh, yes, I’m in. Y’don’t need to knock, come in,” called Olruggio to the door. His voice shocked him with rough it’d grown, but perhaps the disuse had gotten the better of him for the day. With a grumble, he pinched the bridge of his nose, swiveling his body to wait for Qifrey to enter.
He gives a sound of acknowledgement as he's granted permission, pulling the handle of the door to let himself in. Stepping inside, Qifrey shifts to once more have two hands on the tray. A small smile to his face as he looks up to where his dearest friend should be sitting.
" You hadn't been around much today, so, I thought I'd bring you something to eat and drink. " He raises the tray an inch higher as a gesture to it. " I also thought, perhaps you wouldn't mind a bit of company? "
Olruggio blinks at the tray, and lets the words wash over him. He hadn’t been around much today? What, but it couldn’t be any later than two or three, right? He hadn’t been up for very long, just been intently focused. He slowly turns his head to the window, glaring at it like it’d personally offended him. How dare noon turn to well past dusk on him, and he barely notice. Other than to open the float glow lamps, but honestly Olruggio chalked that up to his vision not being quite what it used to be.
With a shake of the head (and a dull thumping of some kind of oncoming headache that promised to be nasty to him later), Olruggio turned back to Qifrey. He cleared his throat, hoping it’d shake off some of the roughness, “Uh, yeah, that’s fine.” He jabs a thumb up to where he is, a silent offering for Qifrey to sit near him. He groans, internally, at the desk situation, and begins to groggily pick up the — wait, groggily? That didn’t make sense. He felt fine. Though, he supposed working all day and not realizing sometimes could do that to you.
Qifrey nods before carefully slotting his feet together. A small orb of wind gathers below his feet to raise him upwards. As the witch keeps his steady hands on the tray, he clears the wall, landing carefully on the ground between the stone futon and the workstation.
" Where would you like me to set your meal? " He pauses for a moment, soaking in the area around him as well. " Are you alright, Olly? "
Olruggio nods, slowly, with a speed that the impending headache allows. One nod then, that’d work. It just does the job well enough, he supposes. “Mm, yeah, ‘m fine. Just…” He blinks. Maybe he should, like, turn off the float glow lamps. Go back to ye olde candles. They’d probably hurt his eyes less.
Olruggio pinches the bridge of his nose, willing the everything in the room to grow a shade softer. “Uh, just hand it over. The - the food, I mean.” He pauses, a tick passes, and he tacks on a “please” for good measure. Stars, his throat hurt.
He gives a hum of acknowledgement, moving over to the other's desk to set down the tray. " I've brought you stew, it's not much, but if you're still hungry after, I can fetch you something else. "
The witch leans down over Olruggio's shoulder, brow furrowed as he looked over his friend. He reaches for one of the drinking bowls--diverting his attention for just a moment--pulling it from its stack and setting it to the side. His gaze falls back to the other witch, studying him before Qifrey moves away. Glancing around the tower for the light sources, electing to make his way over to a few of the float-glow lamps to snuff them out.
Of course, Qifrey wouldn't leave the tower in total darkness, but it was late. Not only that, he could tell at least, he'd like to think he could when something was amiss. After doing so, he returns to Olly's side by his desk. Lifting the pitcher to pour the both of them a drink. " Are you sure you're alright? "
Ah, stew. Silver stars, wasn’t that so blissful? Olruggio mumbles a thanks, and carefully grabs his bowl. He’s grateful for the moment his fingers slip around the wooden bowl and he feels the heat through the grains. What a simple comfort, to sit with a bowl of stew.
As Olruggio takes a bite, careful to blow it off, his gratitude returns tenfold. This one of those kinds of stews, it seemed, that warmed your very soul. Good fucking soup, Olly approved. The chunks of sword carrots diced and mixed with the rhinocerox meat with a lovely combination. The little diced carapace yams really pulled the whole thing together, and he sighed contently.
He hears more than sees drinks being poured, and as Qifrey asks, Olruggio glances at the other witch with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why… why do you ask?” He clears his throat, taking a sip of the proffered drink.
With a belated tick, Olruggio realizes why some of his headache has subsided. When had it even grown darker…?
When Qifrey walked away. Ah, yes, things were… clicking into place. Doing their things. Lovely.
“Also, uh, thanks. For, for the… soup. And the, the getting the lights. ‘Preciate it.”
Mmmmmm, soup.
" I've just wanted to make sure you're taking care of yourself, is all. " Qifrey lowers to sit on his knees next to his dearest friend. He waits a tick before raising the back of his hand to Olruggio's forehead.
" I'm quite glad you enjoy it. " A few ticks pass as he thinks. " Hm, you're a touch warmer than usual. Have you taken any breaks until now, Olly? "
Olly nods, humming a quiet thing as he gets another spoon full of soup - no. Wait. Mmmm. Another sip. Not soup. This is stew. Third sip, just to confirm. It’s to thick to be soup. How on Zozah had he thought it was soup? Where in the name of silver stars had he, Olruggio of the torch, even got that?
Olruggio pauses, feeling cool relief as he looks up at the source. Qifrey was touching his forehead. And if he leaned into it, he was tired enough it was explainable. The whole thing was weird. Odd, but not questionable. Just… peculiar. He sets his spoon down, takes a sip of his drink. Had Qifrey just spoken to him? Ugh, he feels like there’s cotton in his ears.
Right, a question. Uh, right. C’mon, Olruggio of the Torch. You’re the watchful eye of this Atelier. Surely you can swiftly answer this. “Any… breaks.” He restates, slowly. Like he’s processing the words he’s speaking, as he’s speaking them. “Uh, I think so. Maybe. I know I for sure stopped working on the other project from today.” To swap to his current project. But that’ll go unsaid. “…Why’d you ask?” He adds, looking at the bleary Qifreys before him.
Mmm, Qifreys. He really is very tired. Could probably have a nap after the stew. That would be nice. But the Qifreys before him had questions, had made the time to make him soup — no. Stew. Had poured him a drink. The very least he could do was entertain them while food was to be ate.
A fondness takes to the witch's lips as he watches over his dear friend. Pulling his hand from the other's forehead. " Then what were you doing before I arrived? "
Qifrey hums idly, lifting his own drink bowl to take a sip from. His eye tracing over the witch next to him. " Regardless, after you eat I think it's time for a rest. You don't look too well, my dear friend. "
“Y’didn’t answer the question,” Olruggio grumbled into his bowl of stew. Because, need he remind you, it was stew. Not a soup.
Which. Olruggio definitely knew. The whole time. For sure.
A slight whine slips out of Olruggio as the cool feeling goes away. Which is… Fine. Okay, even. He’s a grown adult, he can handle the very nice and cool feeling going away. And not whinge about it. Thank you very much.
Right, he’d asked him a question. Again. What was it, something about what he was doing? Ugh. This brain fog was just not doing Olruggio any favours, was it?
“I was… to answer your… Working. I was doing a project. But a, a different one from earlier?"
Stars, this soup— stew. The stew was very good. Warm. Comforting, even. Olly was quite pleased with it. Helped feel like it wasn’t quite so chilly in his tower.
Perhaps Qifrey was right about lie down. Olruggio himself had already been inclined to agree eariler. But, well, he had a guest over now. Who had made him a… stew. And a drink. And had been kind enough to check in him.
“Nah, I’ll be fine for a bit, Qifrey. Like I said, I was just taking a break anyways. And you’re here to chat, so.”
Qifrey studies Olruggio as he talks, eats. A watching eye making certain his most precious companion was alright. " As productive as ever then, well. I'm glad I showed up when I did. " A soft laugh leaves his lips as he sets his cup back down, and if the witch picked out a constellation for that moment, who was going to stop him?
" To answer your question, though. I merely wanted to check up on my dearest friend. " He pauses, idly waving his hand to emote. " You know, to make sure the brightest witch of our time didn't succumb to an ill-timed fate. "
He blinks, expression shifting from one of a joking manner to one of concern. Folding his hands in front of his person. After a while--if he cared to notice--he would find himself subconsciously fiddling with his thumbs. " As much as I enjoy our chats, I'd prefer you get well-deserved rest. You seem to especially need it today. "
As those over-dramatic words hit him, Olruggio flushes. He chuckles, shaking head at the near notion of an ill-timed fate. Wasn’t “brightest witch of their time” a bit over dramatic? Qifrey could be such a silly man. Endearing, yes, but silly.
Finishing off the last bit of stew, and settling the bowl into his lap, Olruggio shakes his head. "I promise you, I'm okay, Qifrey." He reaches for his cup, takes a sip, and scoots until he's sat right beside Qifrey. He leans his head gently onto Qifrey’s shoulder. “When I chat with you like this, I… I dunno, it’s nice? Feels like a form of a rest.” He clears his throat, not daring to look at Qifrey’s shoulder. He can feel the heat on his face as he realizes, belatedly, the words that just tumbled out of him.
Olly finds, oddly enough, little energy to do damage control. Normally he’d flub for an explanation, or some sort of topic change. He’s choosing to blame all of this on that head fog that’s hindering his critical thinking skills. So, he supposes, Olly’ll have to content himself with grumbling into his lap some half-hearted sentence while leaning on Qifrey’s shoulder for support.
For a tick, Qifrey's caught off-guard. Eye widening as he turns his head to properly look at the other. Within the same breath though, the witch relaxes.
" Is that so? " A small smile slips to his lips as his gaze softens once more. " Well, while I am glad that's the case, but, perhaps it might be better to properly lie down and rest your body. "
Olruggio shakes his head. His eyes scan the cup, like it’ll have the next coherent thought. “Maybe, but… I dunno. I want… I want just a few more minutes. To talk with you? I… haven’t seen you all day. Is that such a crime?”
He takes a deep breath, and stretches, cup still in hand. Stars, sometimes it slips his mind how awful his posture is. Achey, and kind of feverish. And brain foggy. He had been working… more than usual today, he supposed.
“I don’t think it’s anything heinous to want a few minutes to talk with my good friend, is it?”
Ugh, stars, what had gotten into him? He was being selfish, he knows. He shouldn’t ask this of Qifrey, yet he couldn’t help it. Some part of him really wanted to give into this. To let himself indulge, if only for a night.
" I don't have to leave your side. " The words slip from Qifrey's lips before he realizes what he's saying. He moves his hand so it was ghosting his friend's back. " I can stay, Olly. "
The witch hesitates for a moment more before he presses his hand to Olruggio's back. Gently rubbing it in hopes of a brief relief. A light flush heats his cheeks. " We can keep talking, I just think it would be a good idea for you to lie down. "
Olruggio grumbles at the suggestion of laying down. Truly, the idea of even having to leave this spot saddens him, especially when he’d just gotten so comfortable. Even if Qifrey was right, Olruggio hated the mere idea of having to move away from his old friend’s shoulder. Of having the reassurance that Qifrey was there at his back.
A dawning moment of the sensible part of him comes shining through the haze, and Olruggio feels a flush as he looks away in a dawn of horror. What was he doing…?
Maybe he really was sick.
Pulling away, Olruggio clears his throat. The sudden movement hits Olruggio like a queasy truck. Damn sickness. He at least has the decency to not look Qifrey in the eyes, and mumble “Yes, a… a lie down does sound alright.”
" Steady now. " Qifrey turns himself towards the other, hands momentarily raised as a support if they were needed.
The witch spends a moment looking over his friend, watching his moments--his breathing the best he could before rising to his feet. Offering a hand to help him stand. " Your hammock would be good for keeping you comfortable. It would also be easier on your back, but if you'd prefer, I can help you to the futon instead. "
“Mm, I guess that kinda depends,” Olruggio grumbles. He grabs Qifrey’s proffered hand, and slowly hauls himself up. No point in making himself sick — er, sicker than he evidently was. He stands there, hand lingering on Qifrey’s.
This was decidedly not the time to focus on how soft they were, especially compared to his own, but Olruggio couldn’t help it. They were soft — something Olruggio rarely, if ever, got to dwell on.
“Are you, uh,” Olruggio starts, the words getting caught as he looks up Qifrey’s arm at — “y’planning on staying?”
As Olruggio rises to his feet, Qifrey finds himself scanning over the man once more. His free hand, he'd taken to ghosting to his shoulder. Another support, he'd make himself a steady pillar for his dearest friend.
After his cursory glance, Qifrey's gaze lands on those sapphire eyes. " I was. Unless you'd prefer I didn't? "
Olly shakes his head, then his hand goes to his head to keep the room from spinning. “Now, when did I say something like that?”
He starts, slowly, making his trek towards whichever way was where they went to. Heat was rushing to his face. He was just sick. Stars.
“Unless you want to leave, ‘m not asking you to.”
Sick.
" Then I won't. " A smile tugs at his lips as Qifrey made the executive decision to lead them over to Olruggio's hammock. If Olly had a preference, it was certainly too late now. He needed to rest well, of course.
" Steady now, move too fast and you'll only make it worse. "
“I’ll be fine, Qifrey, I’m a grown witch who can manage jus-”
Okay, maybe it wasn’t fine. Slow, steady, Qifrey perhaps had a point. The hammock wasn’t going anywhere, but it was so damn far. Olly found himself glaring at the thing, as if he could will it to come any faster.
It just stood there, waiting. Hammock just out of reach. Sigh.
Thankfully, they’d made it. It just felt like it took a lifetime and then some.
“Let the record show, I’m still a grown witch whose functioning perfectly fine, thank you,” he grumbled, easing into the fabric.
" Of course, a very grown witch. The very same that needs rest. " Qifrey gives a breathy laugh, then after Olruggio is settled in his hammock, he gives a relieved sigh.
" How do you feel? Is there.. anything I could get you--? " He folds his hands, idly emoting.
“No, y’ve done more than enough for me,” Olly shakes his head. Wow, the hammock is far more comforting than he remembers it being when he last slept in it.
“I can’t ask anythin’ of you, but, uh… Fine. Uh, sorry, y- y’asked how I felt? Fine. Is how I felt - feel. Currently.” With a grunt, Olruggio turns to face Qifrey. Stars, if he didn’t know any better, he’d say Qifrey looked like something from the stories of yore. Snow landing softly to greet him with a smile.
Mmm, Olly was delirious. Feverish. That had to explain the everything going on.
“Y’ve helped me plenty. So, uh, ‘preciate it.”
" You can ask things of me, I don't mind. " The witch takes a seat on the wall beside the hammock, turning so that he could face his dearest friend. His eye watches over Olly, carefully, soaking in all the detail it could.
He lifts his hand to rest on the hammock beside his star. An offering of comfort, should his dearest friend desire it.
" I don't think I did all that much, honestly. I feel like I could have done.. more. I can do more. " He pauses, taking a breath. " You.. deserve, more. "
Easily, Olruggio slips his hand on Qifrey’s. Stars, even through the delirium, that beauty staring back down at him is striking. Weakly his squeezes it, shaking his head.
“You brought me a damn good sou- stew, Qifrey. What more could a witch ask for? Stew, and my oldest friend at my side.”
Soup strikes again. Silver stars.
Qifrey breaths a laugh. Shifting then brushing his thumb over Olruggio's fingers.
" Well for one, you could request I fetch rocklodge ginger, or tranquileaf. For your fever, of course. " He pauses, glancing towards the window in the room. Glancing past the glass into the blurred existence of the outside world. His eye then lingers behind him, down at the remaining float-glow lamps he'd left active. He'll have to turn that off soon.
" There's also--more tea, food. " Another pause, before his gaze returns back to the witch in the hammock. " You could even ask for a peaceful, quiet, evening. There's plenty you could ask for, Olly. You need just to say the word, and I'd get you anything you'd desire. "
Maybe he was delirious. Olruggio certainly felt it, especially when Qifrey was looking at him like that. His words were catching in his throat. Stars, how could he even ask for those things? Say those words aloud, into the night. He didn’t feel strong enough to say the things he really wanted. They felt like such childish, petty little things to ask for of anyone.
So, perhaps he ought to content himself. He could be contented, to just rest there. To pull the hand intertwined with Qifrey’s and rest it on a burning face. Close his eyes. Breathe.
“Everything I could desire is right here,” he thinks. Or perhaps mutters, the way his lips move. Soft. Only for him. In the quiet din of the evening to be for him alone, unbidden.
The corners of his lips tug upwards as Qifrey gives the slightest of smiles to his dearest star. His best friend. He shifts his hand, brushing his thumb against Olly's cheek as he holds his face gently. A tenderness uncharacteristic for how long he lingered.
If Qifrey heard the witch speak, there was no telltale sign of it. He shifted on the wall which he sat, facing Olly entirely. Resting his second arm on the hammock and letting his own head rest on it. " I'm here for you, Olly. " Qifrey whispers. " I'll stay by your side while you rest. "
The words put a dopey smile on his face, and a dizzying feeling in his stomach. The sensation of thumb on cheek had him leaning towards it. For not the first time, and certainly not the last, Olruggio just felt like everything was right in the world. He could rest easy, knowing his friend was at his side.
However, Olruggio was a greedy man. He wanted more. Needed it. Desperately. More than he could reasonably justify. So his other hand made its way to Qifrey’s hand where it lay. His thumb made slow circles, and even as his eyes drooped, they stayed steady on pale, slender fingers.
“If you’re to stay by m’side,” he started after a moment (had it only been a moment?) of blissful silence, of watching Qifrey where he stayed, “Then stay closer.” Like a child, his hand snaked around Qifrey’s with a weak tug. Voice tender, vulnerable, he added a quiet “Please.”
His eyes looked up, imploringly, at Qifrey’s face. Tiredly glossing over features he felt he could never dare get enough of. Even as his body threatened to pull him under, ever fiber of him resisted. Pleading, not yet, just a moment more, please.
A breath catches in Qifrey's throat as he hesitates. Oh stars.. something tugs at his heart. This man.. this living star, Qifrey was convinced was going to be the death of him. With an expression like that... coupled with such a request.. how could Qifrey possibly decline?
" ..Alright. " Carried only by a whisper, Qifrey lifts his head from his arm. Pulling back from Olly for just a moment as he shifted from the wall into the hammock just next to his dearest friend.
Qifrey feels his heart burn with something fierce as he nestles himself next to and lays down besides Olruggio. He doesn't let himself think about the flush that's certainly colored his cheeks. He turns onto his side, soaking in the view as clear as day. Basking in such a radiance was an unusual thing for the witch known as Qifrey.
Still though, he reaches out once more. Slowly, cautiously. Reuniting fingers with flesh as Qifrey gently caresses Olly's cheek. " I'll be here, you can rest soundly. My dearest friend. "
As Qifrey pulls away, even just for a moment, a part of Olly mourns the loss of touch. For a second, despite Qifrey’s words, worries pull at Olruggio. He’d asked for too much, and Qifrey couldn’t bare it. Somehow, asking for this and this alone was too much. He lets his eyes flutter shut, finding not much else of interest to look at. It’s better, perhaps, to give into a blissful sleep.
But Olruggio feels a dip as the weight of the hammock shifts. And, hope on hope, he hopes to all the stars that he’s right. His eyes stay shut a fraction longer, arguing to stay close. To finally let himself give in.
However, it’s like he’s been shocked as Olruggio feels a gentle touch on his face. He lets himself lean into it once more. Even as Qifrey ushers him to sleep, he can’t help cracking one last tired eye at his most dearest friend. “Mmm,” is the only sound he can so much as muster. He soaks in the littlest of details - from flush of skin which is electrifying to revel in, to the heat radiating from hand to cheek - and finds himself wanting, needing more of it.
He’s sick, undoubtedly. Olruggio couldn’t deny that, even if he tried. And he wanted to keep Qifrey at arms length, but delirium allowed an indulgence most selfish. It was all Olruggio could do to brush some of Qifrey’s hair out of the way, to slip his hand around the nape of Qifrey’s neck, and to settle it on Qifrey’s chin. To mumble a “Thank you, Qifrey.”
Olruggio lets his eyes close. Allows his hand to fall, gently, onto Qifrey’s arm in the brief space that was too far for Olruggio’s liking. Even this close couldn’t be close enough. But his breathing evens all the same, smile giving way to sleep.
It was odd. Being able to hold Olruggio like this, it was something Qifrey didn't often allow himself to do. The look of fondness in his eyes that he knows is prevalent there as his gaze traces Olly. Watching how gentle he treats Qifrey, even in delirium.
Qifrey finds himself shifting slightly closer to his dearest friend. His arms wrap around the witch to keep him close, secure, protected. After the years Olruggio spent keeping Qifrey safe, in this moment of quiet within the dim-light; Qifrey the Witch would return the favor. A hand slips gently into the back of starless black hair, threading itself into dark locks. A soft whisper bidding a gentle sleep escapes to the night air.
He stays up, however, eye watching over Olly as he slept soundly in Qifrey's arms. Eventually, he remembers he neglected to turn off the remaining float-glow lamps before climbing next to Olruggio. Unfortunate, really, he'll have to remember to turn those off later when he gets up to make breakfast.
Qifrey brings his head to meet Olly's, hand slipping from his hair down to his back to simply just.. hold his best friend. The world seemed a lot smaller now, and despite all the thoughts or wishes that kept running through his brain.. One thing remained certain: he wouldn't trade this for anything. During this night--and any others should they come--Qifrey was Olly's watchful eye, and would protect him while he rested. It's with that thought--that Qifrey too--would succumb to sleep.