Work Text:
It was a quiet winter’s morning that Olruggio found himself holed up in his workshop at the atelier. He was taking advantage of the unusual tranquility to tackle a commission for a particularly demanding client, a nobleman of a neighboring kingdom. Other projects had already kept him up late the previous night, however, and the components of the half-finished contraption laid out on his desk were starting to swim in his vision.
He heaved a sigh as he heard the door to his quarters creak open, and then soft footsteps padding up the stone staircase to his work space. He wasn’t sure why he even bothered with the damned warning on the door. Certainly, nobody ever bothered to read it.
“Sorry, lass, but I’m workin’ here. Go bother Master Qifrey,” he grumbled, making a vague shooing motion at whomever of the four girls was currently intruding on his place of refuge.
“Master Olruggio.”
At the sound of Agott’s voice, he paused and lifted his head from his work. This was puzzling, to say the least. It wasn’t often that Agott came to him for anything.
“...Is somethin’ on fire?” he asked plainly. “Qifrey get stuck in the chimney again?”
“What? No. He took the others to the market in Kalhn.” Agott blinked. “...Did that happen?”
“Thought he could fit inside t’ clean it. Don’t tell him I told you,” Olruggio said, waving a hand dismissively. “Ya didn’t wanna go with ’em?”
“No. I’ve been studying. Or...trying to.”
“Well, what d’ya need?” he asked, stifling a yawn. Agott wrapped her arms around herself as she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“That’s exactly the problem. I can’t focus on my studies. I’ve been experiencing something...strange, and I need advice.”
“I see,” Olruggio replied carefully. Having an earnest conversation with Agott always felt a little like trying not to scare off a scrappy stray kitten. “And ya wouldn’t rather talk t’ Qifrey...?”
“I don’t want him fussing over me.”
Olruggio shrugged. Fair enough. He begrudgingly pushed his current project to the side, and turned around on his bench to give the apprentice his full attention.
“Right, then. Out with it. What’s wrong?”
“It’s...I’ve been feeling…” Agott cast her gaze to the side, avoiding Olruggio's eyes. “I’ve been feeling...odd. And I think Coco is the cause of it.”
Ah. He suspected he already knew where this was going. Still, he asked, “Odd how?”
Agott stood there a long moment before she replied, her face steadily turning pink, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.
“It’s like a...a rush in my stomach. It’s the same kind of feeling as flying, but with my feet on the ground. Like all of my insides are twisting into knots. At first I thought I might be falling ill, but that’s clearly not it. And it’s only when Coco's around.” Her words were coming out in a rush now, all twisting and tumbling over each other. “But I’ve never felt anything like—I mean—Tetia talks about boys, sometimes, but I don’t—I never—until her. I...I don’t understand it.”
Olruggio rubbed his temple with his fingers in an attempt to ward off the headache that was already forming. This was not a conversation that he was even remotely prepared to have, with Agott or with any child. His immediate instinct was to fetch Qifrey, who could certainly handle this sort of thing with far more grace and educational tact.
“And you’re...absolutely certain ya wouldn’t rather discuss this with Master Qifrey?”
“Yes. Why?” Agott's grip on her sleeves tightened. “Is it bad?”
“No, no, no, not at all. It’s just—”
Olruggio pinched the bridge of his nose, then dragged a hand down his face. The lingering exhaustion from a late night’s work was quickly catching up with him, and he hadn’t the foggiest idea what to do with a lovelorn apprentice in the throes of a first crush.
Through the gap in his fingers, he could see Agott slowly curling in on herself like a wilting flower. For a moment, with her arms wrapped around her thin frame and her eyes downcast, the apprentice looked very small. Guilt sank its hooks into his regrettably tender heart. Finally, Olruggio sighed and patted the seat next to him.
“Right. Come ‘ere, lass.”
He waited patiently as Agott hesitated, her expression wary, and then lowered herself next to him on the bench. He was probably the least qualified person to offer advice on matters of the heart, but of course he couldn’t tell her that. Where to even begin?
“Has anybody ever explained to you that...at a certain age, ya might start feeling...differently about certain people?”
Agott bristled.
“Yes, of course. I’m not a baby.”
Olruggio's headache was growing steadily. He heaved another sigh as he steepled his fingers in his lap.
“I’m aware. And, frankly, I’m relieved I don’t need to have that talk with you. Anyhow, it sounds like ya might be experiencin’ those feelings now. Perfectly normal at yer age.”
There was a slow-dawning horror creeping over Agott's face. She was clenching the sleeves of her dress in her fists nearly tight enough to rip the fabric.
“Feelings, as in...?”
“Mhm.”
“I’m in love with Coco...?” Agott whispered to herself, in the same tone as if she’d just been told that she’d contracted a deadly illness. Olruggio blanched.
“Oh. Uh—well, I dunno about ‘love’ just yet. Love, or romantic love, anyway, is somethin’...vast and deep. It’s not somethin’ that just happens. It’s built on a foundation of trust and…shared understanding. It takes time.”
Rather unhelpfully, his mind flooded with thoughts of his long-time companion. His partner in crime, his confidant, his best friend, and all of that other sappy nonsense. The beautiful idiot whom Olruggio had found himself making a home with. Someone who knew him better, perhaps, than he knew himself.
Over the years, there had been some number of almosts. Of maybes and if onlys. Drunken nights and warm hands and that damned laugh of his. Sitting too close on their ridiculously small couch.
Qifrey always pulled away. Olruggio always watched him go.
As well as he felt he knew him, a part of Qifrey always seemed to remain somewhere far beyond his reach, like a ship lost beyond the horizon of a stormy sea. He had long since accepted the idea that they would never be anything more than lifelong friends, and he was perfectly fine with that. It was something one simply became accustomed to, like the bite of an old wound or an ache in the joints that never quite went away. It didn’t hurt as long as he didn't poke at it, so he left well enough alone. And that was that.
“I mean—there’re many different kinds o’ love,” he continued, trying to keep himself moored in the present. “Folk describe it differently, but...well...it’s complicated.”
As Olruggio rambled on, Agott had raised her legs up onto the bench and was curling herself into a tighter and tighter ball. Gradually, his words petered out. Comforting children in distress had never been his forte, and he tried desperately to remember anything Qifrey had mentioned about handling situations such as these.
Children can have a tendency to catastrophize, even more so when they've had adverse experiences of any kind, Qifrey had told him once. Everything feels like the end of the world, and who can blame them? Before anything else, they need to be reminded that they're safe, that the worst-case scenario hasn't come true.
He moved to place a comforting hand on her back, but thought better of it.
“You wanna...uh…take some deep breaths?” he asked instead.
“I’m breathing just fine,” Agott muttered tersely from within the cocoon of her sleeves. The tremor in her voice betrayed her.
“Yer not dyin’, Agott.” Olruggio winced at his own phrasing, and tried again. “What I mean is—yer gonna be fine. It’s just a crush, that’s all. Happens all the time.”
“It feels like I’m dying,” came Agott's small, muffled voice. Olruggio barked out a half-laugh in spite of himself.
“Aye, that it does.” He cleared his throat. “But...it won’t feel that way forever. I promise.”
Agott only huffed and curled up tighter, her fingers digging into her arms. Olruggio rubbed the back of his neck and watched her helplessly as the silence dragged on, heavy as the drifting snow outside the window. His words were all falling flat, as they so often did. He found himself wishing again that Qifrey was there.
There was a sudden squeak as Coco’s brushbuddy scurried into the room. The little creature leapt onto the bench and stood on its hind legs to paw at Agott’s side. Agott finally raised her head from her knees, and held out her hands for the brushbuddy to climb onto.
“Oh. Hello,” she murmured. “Were you napping? I thought you went with Coco.”
As the other girl’s name left her mouth, Agott’s expression fell all over again, and she buried her face in the brushbuddy’s soft white fur with a groan. The little creature chittered indignantly, but made no move to leave.
Olruggio could make tea, he decided then. Tea usually helped.
“It’s cold out. How ‘bout we put the kettle on, eh?”
Agott's face re-emerged slowly. She nodded, and let the brushbuddy climb onto her shoulder before she moved to stand.
Downstairs, Olruggio rummaged through the cabinets while Agott brought the teapot to the counter, and two cups to the kitchen table.
“What do I do now?” she asked quietly. Olruggio glanced at her in surprise. She was tracing the rim of one of the cups with her finger, deep in thought.
“Well…that’s up to you. Don’t have to do anythin’ if ya don’t want to.”
“But then...how do I make it stop?”
“You don’t,” he answered simply. Agott nearly dropped the teacup.
“What?!”
“Just the way it goes, ‘m afraid. Happens t’ lots of people.”
Agott slumped down at the table. The brushbuddy scrambled into her lap, stretching itself up to rub its head against her chin. She sighed and reached down to pet it as she stared forlornly out the kitchen window.
“She’s just so nice,” Agott muttered, running a hand through her hair in frustration. The brushbuddy let out a curious trill. “Even after I was so awful to her. Why does she have to be so nice to me all the time? And so...foolishly brave, and so passionate, and so...ARGH!”
She buried her flushed face in her hands, and the brushbuddy squeaked in alarm.
“Ugh, what is wrong with me?!”
Ah, the trials and tribulations of the passions of youth. Olruggio could practically feel his thirty-year-old body withering into dust. He muttered an "a-ha" as he finally located the tea leaves behind the jars of spices, and he grabbed the vapor bubble from its hook on the wall.
“There’s nothin’ wrong with you,” he replied patiently.
“It’s so...stupid,” Agott grumbled. “It makes me feel stupid.”
“Wish I could tell ya it gets easier.” Olruggio chuckled a little as he poured the water into the kettle. “Trust me, it makes adults feel stupid, too.”
He returned the vapor bubble to its place, and for a moment Agott was quiet again. He could see in the furrow of her brow that she was turning something over and over in her head. She met his eyes in a hesitant, fleeting glance.
“And you don’t think it’s...strange?”
He had taken out his palm quire to light a fire for the kettle, but her question made him pause.
“Strange how?”
Agott stared down into her empty cup. She picked at her fingernails.
“That we’re both…girls,” she whispered, shrinking into herself in a way that she rarely did. Olruggio felt an all-too-familiar pang in his chest. The world outside of their little atelier was a cruel one, as he was all too frequently reminded. Errant strands of memory pulled at the back of his mind.
He could still vividly recall when Qifrey first returned with Agott in tow, a wee thing of ten with nowhere else to go. She had been so stiff and uncertain, wide-eyed and trembling. A little lamb cast out of the flock and into the cold and starless dark, and by her own mother, no less. She had cried in Qifrey’s arms that night, after which point they had never seen her cry again. Her impatience chafed against the constraints of her youth, and she had spent the two years that followed burning bright with anger. Burdens which no child should ever have to shoulder, and yet these burdens Agott still carried.
He wasn’t sure when exactly things shifted, but he’d never seen her laugh the way she did now with Coco. Practically falling over each other, heads bent together like they were sharing a secret. Quite a few nights, now, he’d passed by their shared quarters and heard the faint sound of their giggling through the door. These days, they orbited each other like twin stars, each a light in the other’s darkness. It brought a lightness to his own heart, to see the both of them so carefree, to see how they anchored each other in the midst of the storm.
Qifrey had always been Olruggio’s anchor, and Olruggio his. Even all those years ago at the Great Hall, when it was just the two of them against the world. There had been stares and whispers and insults and rumors, all of the inherited cruelty that children so often wielded like a weapon. Eventually, none of it had mattered anymore. As long as they had each other, the rest of the world all fell away, if only for a little while.
“Not strange at all,” he told her gently. “No stranger than the changing o’ the seasons or the passage o’ time. There is nothin’ wrong with the way you feel. I want you to know that.”
Agott stared at him, taken aback. She broke eye contact and tugged shyly at one of the curls that fell over her forehead.
“...Okay.”
There was a lingering uncertainty in her voice, in her fidgeting hands, in her tense shoulders. Olruggio looked down at his palm quire and was struck with a sudden idea.
“Can I show ya somethin’?”
He beckoned her over, and after a moment she stood to join him at the counter. He sketched a small pyreball seal with a practiced flourish, and the little red ball of fire crackled to life before them.
“The way ya feel about somebody can be...like a flame. A little frightenin’ at first, maybe. Yer afraid it might burn you. But...if ya tend it well, it keeps ya warm when the rest o’ the world is cold.”
“Oh.” Agott stared at the flame as if entranced.
“‘S not always easy to keep the flame lit. It takes...practice, sometimes. Just like a difficult spell.”
The fire fizzled out, and Olruggio drew another seal slightly different from the last, steady fingers following the lines he’d traced countless times before. The new flame licked at the air with tongues of sharp, cool blue, and Agott drew in a soft breath beside him.
“But love, like fire, and like magic, can take many different shapes. There’s no one way for it t’ be. It can be terrifyin’, true, but it can also become somethin’...beautiful. If you want it t’ be.”
Agott was silent and still as the flame’s blue glow flickered in the dark depths of her eyes.
“All that to say, you’re young, and that flame is just startin’ to burn. Ya don’t have to make any decisions right now,” he told her. “Feelings can ebb and flow like the tide. Or they may stay a while. Either way, ‘s all perfectly natural. Nothin’ has t’ change right now if ya don’t want it to.”
Finally, the blue flame flickered out. Agott said nothing, clenching and unclenching her fist on the counter as she lost herself in her thoughts again. Olruggio huffed with a smile and a slight shake of his head. He gently nudged her shoulder.
“Put the kettle on for me, eh?”
The apprentice blinked rapidly as she was startled out of her reverie.
“Huh? Uh—yes, sure.”
She drew a larger pyreball seal on her own palm quire and placed their kettle over the flame, the water starting to boil almost immediately at the heat. She then busied herself with taking tea leaves from the tin and depositing them into the teapot. Olruggio watched her bemusedly.
“Did that all…make sense?” he asked. “Or am I just blatherin’ on again?”
“No, I…I think I understand.” Agott fiddled self-consciously with the cuffs of her sleeves. “Still. Tetia and Richeh can’t find out about…you know. I’d never hear the end of it. And certainly not…” She trailed off as her face turned pink again. The kettle whistled.
“Coco?” Olruggio chuckled warmly. “Not t’ worry, lass. Yer secret’s safe with me.”
Agott deflated with a long sigh. After a moment, she let herself lean slightly into his side, steadfastly avoiding eye contact. He blinked in surprise, but let her stay there.
“Thank you,” she mumbled before pulling away. Olruggio only hummed in acknowledgment as he poured the hot water into the teapot, not wanting to embarrass her further. When the tea was done, they brought the teapot over to the small table and settled down to enjoy it. They had been sitting in fairly comfortable silence for a few minutes when Agott piped up again, soft and unsure.
“Can I ask you something else?”
Olruggio tilted his head to her as he took another sip of tea.
“Mhm.”
“Do you…love Master Qifrey? In that way?”
He promptly choked on his tea and doubled over in a violent coughing fit. Agott gave him two courtesy pats on the back.
“What...what makes you say that?” he rasped around the liquid in his windpipe. She shrugged.
“I don’t know. It’s just…you look at him a certain way. Different from anyone else. I always wondered.”
The girl was frighteningly perceptive at times. Olruggio’s tongue turned clumsy and useless in his mouth again.
“I mean—we’re partners, in a sense, but that’s not—we have a strictly professional relationship.”
Agott raised her brows at his non-answer. There was a spark in her eyes not unlike whenever she discovered a new way of drawing a spell.
“So you love him, but you haven't told him?”
This child...
“I did not say that.” The brushbuddy chittered at him from its place on Agott’s shoulder. He glared at it. “Oi. What are you lookin’ at, pipsqueak?”
“But you are…like me?”
The renewed vulnerability in Agott’s timid voice pierced him like an arrow. The words hung in the air between them, heavy with fear and hope and longing and a wish for someone, anyone to understand. Olruggio had felt it all, once, when he had been much smaller and the world had felt much colder. When loneliness had settled on his narrow shoulders and stayed there. When his heart had ached for something he couldn’t name.
“…Yeah.”
Agott nodded. The ghost of a smile flickered across her face, brief but warm. Olruggio smiled in return before he let out a breath and stared down at his tea, swirling it around and around in his cup.
“But Qifrey and I, we’re not…” He ran through a list of excuses in his head, all of which he knew Agott would see through in an instant. He finally settled on, “Well, it’s a little more complicated than that.”
“You keep saying that.” The apprentice cupped her hands contemplatively around her tea. “Love does sound very complicated.”
Olruggio chuckled dryly.
“Ain’t that the truth?”
“Well, don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me, too,” Agott said matter-of-factly, and there was a small and sudden burst of fondness in Olruggio’s chest. She let out an indignant squawk as he reached over to give her hair an affectionate ruffling.
“Stop growin’ up so fast, will ya? It’s scary.”
She pushed his hand away, and he was briefly worried that he’d crossed a boundary. Then he saw the grin that she was fighting to hold back.
“I refuse.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. Olruggio snorted, and then guffawed in spite of himself. It was the most blatantly childish thing he’d ever seen her do in the two years that he’d known her. For a moment Agott looked like she might take offense at his laughter, but soon she too was overcome with giggles. A bright smile spilled over her cheeks and stayed there, and that made it all worth it, really.
Olruggio briefly remembered his unfinished commission and the piles of work waiting for him at his desk, but he quickly dismissed the thought. It could wait, he decided.
However, their giggling was cut short as the two of them startled at the sound of shuffling outside the front door. Soft, gray winter light poured into the kitchen as the door swung open, and Qifrey stepped through toting a sack full of fresh market goods.
“Oh! Agott, Olly.” Qifrey’s brow furrowed at the sight of them. “Is everything alright?”
Olruggio stood a little too quickly, jolting the table and nearly knocking their teacups to the floor.
“Perfectly fine. Just, uh...just havin’ a chat. We’re just about finished ‘ere. Where are the girls?”
He could feel Agott glancing intently back and forth between the two of them, her gaze narrowed.
“Playing in the snow,” Qifrey answered him, brushing the stuff from his cloak. “Agott, why don’t you join the others outside? You should go enjoy it before it melts.”
“I should really be studying…” she mumbled. Qifrey’s gaze softened.
“Take a break, love. I’m sure you’ve done enough studying for today.”
Agott blew out an exasperated breath and begrudgingly climbed to her feet.
“Fine. I’ll go change.”
She returned her teacup to the kitchen before making her way up the stairs to her and Coco’s shared room. Qifrey stepped closer so the apprentice wouldn’t hear, and placed a gentle hand on Olruggio’s shoulder.
“Is she alright?” Qifrey whispered, the warmth of his words curling around Olruggio’s ear. He sighed and pushed down the old, familiar ache.
“Ah, she’ll be right as rain. Just findin’ her way, s’ all.”
Qifrey hummed thoughtfully.
“Is she, now?”
Then Coco came bursting through the front door in a whirlwind of excitement, just in time for Agott to reappear in her winter clothes. Olruggio nearly opened his mouth to scold her for tracking snow in the house, but the pure joy on her face was infectious.
“Agott! Richeh made a little brushbuddy out of snow and it’s the cutest thing! You have to come see!”
The two of them watched as she snagged Agott’s hand in her own and the poor girl promptly turned beet red.
“Oh—I—okay.”
Coco only chattered away as she tugged the helpless Agott along behind her, a sight that was becoming more and more common around the atelier. Olruggio chuckled as the two of them nearly went tumbling into a snow drift, the brushbuddy bounding after them. Qifrey observed the entire affair with a small smile and a wistful sigh.
“Oh, I remember being their age.” His smile faltered a little. “The world felt so wide, then.”
A sudden shadow came over his face, one that Olruggio had seen so many times before. Like a passing stormcloud in a sunny sky, it was gone again before he could possibly hope to decipher it. Then Qifrey turned that blindingly bright smile on him again.
“You’re a good teacher, Olly,” he murmured. Olruggio’s foolish heart fluttered in his chest like a caged bird, like smoldering embers stirring to life. He scoffed.
“I am no such thing.”
Qifrey only hummed in that infuriatingly sly way of his, his blue eye twinkling warmly. Olruggio gave his shoulder a half-hearted shove and swallowed every stupid thing he couldn’t say.
“Come off it.”
Qifrey danced away from him with a grin, still balancing the bag of fresh produce in one hand.
“Fine, fine. Help me boil these potatoes?” he asked over his shoulder, turning towards the warmth of the kitchen. Their kitchen. Olruggio rolled his eyes and shook his head in exasperation, but didn’t hesitate to follow.
“Always.”