Chapter Text
Qifrey’s first apprentice had been at the atelier since breakfast and it was going relatively smoothly. She was tiny, barely tall enough to see over the counter in the kitchen. He kept waiting for something to go wrong, for her to get lost or sprint out the door or set something on fire, but all she did was sit there and practice drawing spells.
He tried to suggest a walk, earlier, to go check on the garden or just stretch their legs and she looked at him like he had asked her to quit magic all together, rather than simply take a small break. So he had brought lunch over and she had found even one of the mild dips a little too spicy so he was now reworking dinner so it would be something she would eat.
But beside that, it had gone smoothly. They had worked on some fundamentals, Qifrey had patiently and gently adjusted some of her form and encouraged her to practice particulars of a pyreball levitation spell. She had nodded and curled up with her notebook for a good clockmark - longer than he thought such a young child should be able to concentrate.
He strongly suspected he was correct and that she was pushing herself.
At that age, Qifrey was ready to sprint out of the room if Beldaruit made him focus for long. He had actually, on several occasions, even as Beldaruit called after him. But the sealchair was fast, so it was basically permission if he wasn’t followed.
Olruggio had been able to sit and focus like that when they were ten. Qifrey knew because he was always sprinting away towards Olly, interrupting his otherwise diligent studying so they could go “practice” together somewhere else. Usually that meant sneak snacks and see who could do a better job at whichever spell, which did turn them both into strong, if still competitive, witches.
Either way, his new apprentice was intense and tiny and rather sensitive to spices. So he was now putting together a gentle soup with carapace yam and dumplings and hoping she would set aside her notepad to pick up one of the children’s novels he had left lying around. It didn’t seem likely.
He set the table and sliced a loaf of bread. After remembering her lunch, he melted cheese onto a few of the slices. She must have worked up an appetite, and the cheese seemed to be a hit with her.
Agott was still sitting in the same spot, her little legs tucked under her and her cheek on her fist as she carefully drew another circle in the flickering light of the fireplace and assorted glow lanterns.
Qifrey knew that when he was an apprentice, the smell of melting cheese and warm bread would have had him peering over the edge of the counter and trying to sneak a slice, Olly next to him with his own hands open and ready. Of course, his students were bound to be different, he didn’t expect or particularly want them to be just like him.
But she was so serious, it made him worry.
Which made him remember that the whole reason he was doing this was to cause himself to worry. Qifrey ran his fingers over the ribbon on his hat, perched nearby on the counter and took a breath. He could do this. He would figure this out.
After one more moment he wrote out a quick whirling wind spell and sent the smell of fresh cheese toast off to Olruggio’s workshop, a gentle reminder that he had promised to come out for Agott’s first dinner with them.
“Agott,” he poked his head out to find that she still hadn’t moved an inch but several more crumpled pieces of paper littered the ground around her, “dinner is ready. Come sit at the table?”
She nodded, finished her spell, and then stood, bringing her notebook with her. That was fine, as long as she took a break from actually practicing. When he had been looking at it earlier it had a handwritten note in the cover from her mom, a birthday gift it seemed like. Qifrey hadn’t had any comfort items when he first arrived as an apprentice, but he imagined he would have felt fairly attached to any he had. Olly had brought a large quilt he would occasionally drag to Qifrey’s room for sleepovers when they were especially young. He was fairly certain it was still in the other man’s hammock bed in his workshop.
When Qifrey returned to the table with the last bowls of soup Agott was sitting in Olly’s regular spot. Olly would probably be fine sitting on his other side. It would be easier for Qifrey, anyways, with the apprentice he was supposed to watch on his left. The table came almost halfway up her chest, sitting just below where the little buttons on her dress stopped. Had he and Olly ever looked that small to their Masters?
Why didn’t Beldaruit put a leash on him? She hadn’t even done anything and Qifrey was already mentally halfway through a spell to magically tie her to his wrist so she didn’t get lost or run away or… anything he did at that age really. Even though she didn’t seem to want to do anything except sit in the atelier they built and study like the dream student of every hardass master in the Great Hall. It made his blood boil that the same witches who were so condescending to him as a child were now being mean to another.
When he first heard the rumors he had wanted to throw something, anything, at the entire Great Hall because that is a young girl you are talking about and she can hear you. They pretended they couldn’t see her flinching as she overheard the gossip at the market and Olly had to literally shove a pastry into Qifrey’s mouth to keep him from marching up and starting a fight of some sort.
“Smells good,” Olruggio said, startling Qifrey out of his brief familiar fantasy of yelling at the entire Assembly and then drenching them with cold seawater. Olly settled into the remaining seat smoothly, no hesitation or sign that Agott had done something to disrupt their regular routine. “Carapace yam soup and cheese toast?”
“I thought perhaps something comforting,” Qifrey answered as he settled into his own spot. “And we have something special for after, to celebrate our new arrival.”
Agott blinked up at him then, her purple eyes wide.
“You didn’t need to do anything special for me,” she frowned, her tiny little eyebrows drawn together. He felt the sudden urge to coo, something he was fairly certain he had only previously done at small animals like brushbuddies and baby owlcats.
“Of course we did, we are honored to have you here,” Qifrey replied. She did not seem like the type to appreciate being coddled, so he tried to speak as he would to an older child. Reassuring, but not too warm.
“Also, your new master is a great cook and baker, I wouldn’t turn down anything he made,” Olly whispered at Agott, as if Qifrey couldn’t hear him behind his hand. He saw the girl bite her lip and nod a little, taking the hint seriously.
“Alright, who wants to bless the meal?” He asked, pretending he hadn’t overheard.
“I’ll do it. Thank you for this food for keeping us safe and full,” Olruggio said, short and sweet, and then they were all tucking in.
It was quiet, for a few moments, just the gentle sounds of spoons on bowls and tearing bread. Qifrey took quiet joy in Agott eating through a whole slice of cheese bread and reaching for seconds. He might not be able to talk her out of pushing her industrious little mind to its brink, but at least he was keeping her fed and safe.
“How was your day?” he turned to Olly and watched the other witch tilt his head, considering his answer as he finished a bite. Then he described the commission, which Qifrey already knew but Agott seemed to be silently absorbing with large eyes, before they began to muddle through one of the trickier points together. Qifrey occasionally asked Agott’s thoughts, but she simply shrugged and went back to staring at her meal as he tried not to bristle and consider how she grew up surrounded by magic but, apparently, no one asked her thoughts or questions at family mealtimes.
“How was your day?” Qifrey turned but found Olly was directing the question at Agott.
“It was good, I learned a lot and Master Qifrey made me a delicious lunch. And I think I made an acceptable pyreball. I just have to test it after dinner,” she answered, voice small but certain. Qifrey smiled, trying to absorb a manageable amount of satisfaction from her report. He wasn’t actively screwing it up on his first day. He might have been worrying, but it didn’t seem like it was transferring to her.
“That’s a lot of progress for one day. Can I see it?” Olly kept his voice low and calm and Qifrey suddenly realized this was what Olruggio would be like as a father.
He hadn’t really considered it before, the other man had never mentioned dating much less starting a family. But now he was here, saying all the right things and helping Agott come out of her shell while Qifrey’s every question seemed to send her further into hiding, which was fine, he would figure that out with time, but… did Olruggio want that? Would he ever want it?
The familiar fear that someone was going to come along and offer Olly a future he wanted, a better one, was right there. But so was Agott, unfolding her notebook and flipping to the most recent page before gently setting it on the table and Olruggio turning it with one careful hand, humming as he looked it over. The familiar balance of fear and joy held Qifrey still as he observed their moment, finding a tolerable comfort in just being close to their warmth.
“That’s good,” Olly said after a moment and tapped the almost-competed circle. “Impressive balance, we can probably use it to make some tea after dinner if you’d like to try.”
“Really?” Agott flushed bright red and Qifrey tried to commit the sight to memory. His tiny first apprentice blushing at the praise and Olly looking startled that she seemed to be feeling so strongly.
Qifrey wasn’t surprised. Everyone had always responded strongly to Olruggio, himself included. Other people flirted and gossiped and offered commissions and when Olly turned them down they looked dejected and when he took them up on the jobs they seemed to glow. It was just the usual background rhythm to being friends with one of the brightest students in the Witch Assembly. Of course adorable children were no exception.
Qifrey gently moved the bread out of the way so he could see the spell, noting her careful construction, even if it was a little wobbly still. It was a brilliant spell for her age.
“This absolutely can hold the kettle. Do you want me to go get it or would you like to?”
“I got it!” Agott was up and sprinting to the kitchen, showing more energy than Qifrey had seen all day. He raised his eyebrows and turned to look at Olly, whose lips were pressed together to barely conceal his grin. Agott was back before they could say anything, and Qifrey smiled brightly.
“Excellent! Whenever you’re ready,” she blushed a little as she pulled her ink and wand out. After a brief glance at him for reassurance, and wasn’t that something to feel, she tugged the notebook close and quickly connected her circle. A perfectly sized pyreball burst into existence above the paper, burning consistently and sitting balanced in the air. Qifrey clapped his hands a little, feeling a rush of joy over such a simple spell.
He hadn’t been excited over a pyreball since before… he swallowed and allowed the memory of the tower of tomes to buffer his joy, to allow the slight creaking he had heard to ebbe to silence.
“Well done!” he said, even as his heart both sank with the remembered guilt and soared with pride as his first apprentice settled the kettle onto the pyreball. This was the balance.
He smiled and stood, taking the couple steps into the kitchen to retrieve a tin of tea and mugs. He set them on the table near Agott, deciding to let her complete the whole task because she seemed so satisfied. He also fetched a cake with flowers pressed into the icing.
“You would have earned this regardless, but it does feel extra celebratory now, hm?” Even though he had made it small, intentionally mindful of an appropriate size for only three people, it seemed too large sitting in front of her.
But she was ten, and he and Olruggio had been even younger as apprentices. How had Beldaruit ever let him out of sight? Qifrey wanted to put a bell on the door so he would know if she ever tried to leave.
“That’s too much,” she said but her eyes were wide and fixed on it, so he decided it was a token protest. Maybe she liked sweets? Most children seemed to. Qifrey and Olly certainly had and, honestly, still did.
“It’s really not. You’re an apprentice now, that’s a big step. This is your welcome celebration,” he smiled and began slicing pieces after Agott shook her head when he asked if she wanted to cut the cake.
Agott deserved recognition. She had worked so hard to be ready for the First Test, even taking it when the Dahda range was at middle elevation so that she could come here sooner rather than later. That was no easy feat at her age. There was no official celebration, but cake always seemed like a winning choice to him and Olly, at least until they were old enough for a drink to be an option. And goodness knows the girl’s mother certainly wouldn’t have thrown any sort of celebration.
When he applied to become a professor, passing the fifth test and enduring Beldaruit’s affections with his own poorly concealed excitement, he had anticipated the students worrying him. He had anticipated feeling pride, joy, and care. He hadn’t anticipated feeling a new level of rage at the various adults around him as he watched them let down the children in their care.
The rage did nothing for the silverwood, but he coaxed his guilt and anxiety alongside it. The embers of one passion lighting the next. He thought of all the kids not being properly cared for, imagined how little of an impact he was actually having, and any plant growth stopped. His heart, also, because he could easily imagine all the children in need of a safe home.
But the best he could do, for now, was to take care of the apprentice he did have. So they were celebrating with cake and tea and looking over some of her work from the day. She had been embarrassed, but when Olly shared how some of his ideas had failed earlier that day she seemed coaxed into sharing.
Olruggio was really rather good at this. Back when Qifrey had first discussed taking the fifth exam, he suggested maybe they should do it together. Olly had declined, saying he was happy to be Qifrey’s Watchful Eye but had no interest in teaching. But that didn’t seem quite true.
Again, a part of him worried it was because Olruggio wanted children of his own, wanted the option to leave and raise a real family with infants and someone who could hold him. Rather than this little life they had built together where Qifrey snuck longing looks when Olly was asleep on the couch or distracted by a project.
He let the thoughts go long enough for anxiety to hum through him and then changed tracks. Although he left the thread ready for when he needed to pick it back up.
Qifrey stood, stretching his arms above his head before turning to stack the empty plates. Olly was already looking at him, so Qifrey asked if he needed anything, only for Olly to shake his head and suddenly turn back to Agott. He put the remaining slices of cake away, doubtful they would make it until tomorrow’s dinner, and returned with a smile.
“Time to get ready for bed, I think. If you want to wash up the bath is in the hall, and if you find you need anything just ask. We have extra blankets, pillows, toothbrushes, whatever you might need.”
Agott nodded and padded off, little shoes making quiet taps on the stairs. Qifrey took the dinner leftovers and Olruggio the plates and set about packaging and cleaning. They were halfway through, Qifrey’s hands damp as he washed, when Agott appeared at the bottom of the stairs with a small bag and a nightgown tucked under one arm.
“Um, I brought my soap and things,” she offered and Qifrey smiled, toweling off his hands quickly to follow her.
“If you want to keep them in the baths, there are hooks if you want to leave it in your bag, or little cubbies if you want to set your things out. And the cubby of towels are all dry and clean,” he gently opened the door and pointed to the various spots as walked the room and closed spells on his palm quire, lighting the many glow lamps around the room. “Do you like the water warm?”
She nodded and he adjusted the contraption Olly had installed months ago. “If it’s too hot, you just adjust it like this-”
“Oh, we had one of those at home. We just got it before I left,” Agott shared as Qifrey felt a grin of pride stretch over his face.
“That would be one of Olruggio’s then. This was the first,” Agott looked up, startled and then reverently traced the carved spell.
“I didn’t know,” she bit her lip. “I want to be able to draw amazing spells like this.”
“You will be,” Qifrey offered. “I’ve been best friends with Olruggio since we were younger than you, back when whirling water spells gave him some trouble. And at the rate you’re practicing, you’ll be better than him for sure.”
She blushed and then tried to hide it behind her long hair.
“Alright, I’ll give you space to bathe, but if you need anything just shout. I’ll be in the kitchen,” she nodded so he left, pulling the door closed until it clicked.
Then he was just standing in the hallway.
It was delicate, being a male instructor to such a young girl. He wanted her to feel safe, to have a lock on her door and to know he wasn’t going to cross any lines. But, equally, he wanted to be available if she needed anything.
He wasn’t sure he was doing such a great job so far. He had never been fantastic at being close, at being available.
There was a rustle of fabric and then the sound of water splashing and he smiled, for a moment. That was good, that she was making noise and taking up space, even if it was only behind closed doors for now.
Then he was hit with the memory of his first bath at the Great Hall. Beldaruit had showed him the room and he had tried, finding a bathing suit and soap and towel, but after making it up to his ankles into the water he had stopped.
It was hard, feeling even that amount of water lapping against his skin. He knew he could get out, it was safe, he was fine. But it didn’t feel that way. It felt like the lid was closing and the box was just filling up with more water and it was going to get into his eye, or where his eye had been and-
Qifrey took a couple deep breaths, trying to stay quiet but breathe deep so he would feel his ribs expand. The air in the baths was different, still humid but a little salty and it smelled like soap, rather than damp dirt and sharp blood. After another breath he had looked up, trying to find an empty spot and everyone had been staring. The adults and the kids were all stopped and whispering. A few were walking further away, like even the water he touched was infected.
He remembered curling his toes in the bottom, trying to blink away the tears that were gathering in his one remaining eye and wondering how this was so much better than the other witches with the box but still felt so terrible.
He had ended up finding a small corner and taking the quickest bath possible, scrubbing at his arms and hair and then toweling off and back into his robes as fast as he could. When he got back to his room there was still soap in his hair. He had to wet a towel with a vapor bubble and try to dab it out as best as he could so he would still look a little presentable the next day.
He’d asked Beldaruit if there were hours where it was closed, like the cafeteria, and he had said no, the baths were always open. So Qifrey started going late at night, after even his master had gone to bed. That seemed to work, no one else was there. The few times people were, he just turned around and waited until later or went back the next night.
Of course, as he had with everything else in Qifrey’s life, when Olruggio appeared he made it better. They went together, sometimes even when other people were still the baths. Olly made him laugh and they practiced spells. He invented the first version of his water-warmer after Qifrey had said the cold water was harder, that it reminded him of the box.
He was even patient when something as silly as bubbles made Qifrey upset. One had popped near his eye and gotten some soap in and then he couldn’t see at all. He had been trying to rinse his eye out and had gotten his hair all wet so he knew Olly could see the scar where his right eye had been and it was just… awful.
Because he knew eyesight mattered to witches. He knew he was weird and people thought he shouldn’t be trained and Olruggio was so smart and talented and even though he obviously already knew Qifrey only had one eye, he hadn’t wanted to show him but… but then Olly had just pulled down the shoulder wrap, holding his suit up with a hand tight at his waist, and pointed out a burn scar on his own shoulder. He said he got it from a fire at a neighboring town and how scary and horrible it had been. That it was different but also not.
He said Qifrey could touch it, if he wanted. And Qifrey did, although really he just wanted to touch Olly and cared a lot less about the scar. But he knew Olly was sharing something special to him too, so he tried to be gentle. He’d said Olly could turn around again and hadn’t hidden his scar from the other boy, now man, since.
Olruggio was the only one Qifrey really didn’t mind exposing his whole face to.
“What are you doing?” Qifrey looked up to find Olly standing in the hall, one eyebrow slightly quirked.
Qifrey meant to say he was fine, that he was just remembering their days as apprentices, that Agott was settling in well, or even that Olly was so good with her.
What he actually said was, “what if she drowns in the bath?”
Both of Olruggio’s eyebrows raised and he took a step closer.
“Qifrey, she’s ten. She’s been bathing on her own for years. And she grew up around water, unlike us, so she’s probably a strong swimmer.”
Which was all true. And really did almost nothing to quell the general feeling of panic in his body as he remembered every form of chaos and trouble, intentional or trauma-induced, that he managed to get into as an apprentice and then imagined the ten year old child in his home undergoing any of that and-
“Breathe, Qifrey,” Olly gently took his hand and put it on his chest, resting right in the middle over the dip in the white fabric and part of Qifrey’s mind had a whole separate breakdown that he now knew what Olly’s skin felt like there, but mostly he tried to just breathe with the calm rhythm under his hand. “She’s fine.”
“I know she is, I do, it's… I don’t know how to explain it,” he ended, feeling disoriented and silly.
“You’re worried, it’s normal,” Olly took another deep breath and this time Qifrey kept up. “Also, of all the things she was going to do today this was probably going to be the hardest for you. Remembering what the baths were like for you at that age…”
“I honestly thought the hardest part was going to be her sprinting out the door to chase after something. But she just sat there working, being a good student! What am I even here for? Most of what Beldaruit did was try to keep me from being even more of a danger to myself-”
“That’s because you were a problem child,” Olly stated, not exactly kindly but with kindness in his tone.
“Oh my… Olly she’s a you,” Olly’s eyebrows raised again as Qifrey started nodding, his eye wide. “I thought I would get a me, just the universe balancing things out and when we talked with her and she said no one else would take her because she had been a problem… but she's a you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You would always be sitting in lessons or studying or doing something normal and I would pop up and drag you off on some adventure,” Olruggio looked like he was about to disagree so Qifrey waved a hand. “Not in a bad way, you wanted to come, but you were also a fairly good student. You wanted to be a great witch and learn magic… it took you talking me into it for me to join you. She’s an Olly, she just wants to do a good job.”
“Okay, maybe she is,” Olruggio was still looking at him like Qifrey wasn’t making sense.
“Olly she told us no one else would take her because she was a problem but she’s so easy to care for!” He couldn’t find better words to make his point. He had, at least on some level, actually been a problem child. And eventually Olruggio too. But Agott was, yes, a little serious, but that could hardly be called a problem by the witches of the Assembly.
“Oh,” it finally clicked and he frowned and sighed, little worried wrinkles appearing between his eyebrows. Olly wrapped his own hand around his shirt, next to where Qifrey’s still rested. Qifrey tried to take his hand back, subtly, and it seemed like Olly didn’t notice. “Well, then we just have to make sure she knows she isn’t a problem.”
And it was so simple, when he said it like that. Qifrey still wanted to go yell and half-drown some people but Olly was right. What really mattered was making sure this tiny child knew she wasn’t a problem here. That she could be a problem, even, if she wanted and they would still keep her and cherish her.
“Alright,” he agreed and took one more deep breath. He could make one child feel cared for and wanted, surely. “I’m going to go make tea. Would you like some?”
“Sure,” Olly smiled and followed Qifrey back down the hall to the kitchen. They were quietly followed by the sounds of laughter and splashing.