if you know you know

Olruggio thought for a moment about correcting her — he'd seen Qifrey sick plenty of times over the years; he just didn't get sick as often as Olruggio did — but decided against it. "He just needs some rest, and he'll be good 's new."

"Should we not take him to the doctor in Kalhn?"

He shook his head. "Qifrey hates the doctor more than just about anythin'. If his fever hasn't gone down in a day or so, we'll talk about it again, but he'd 'ave to be pretty sick before he'd let us take 'im anywhere."

Coco's mouth trembled a little bit as she looked down at her lap. Olruggio narrowed his eyes slightly. None of the other girls were taking Qifrey's absence as hard as Coco was, but then again, they'd all been under his tutelage for longer and had seen him ill before. And perhaps, Olruggio thought, remembering the tarnished shades of Coco's backstory, this wasn't about Qifrey at all.

"Coco," he said gently, getting her attention. "I promise you Qifrey'll be fine. He's tough, and he knows he's got to get better so he can get back to teachin' you lot again."

That made her smile a little bit, which eased the knot in his chest. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, and brushed the heel of her hand beneath her eye. "I'm just worried about him."

"Look, I've got to go get something inside anyway, so I'll check on 'im for you, deal?"

A bit more of a smile from Coco, this time tinged with relief. "Deal. Thank you, Master Olly."

Olruggio got to his feet and brushed the bits of grass from his robes. Agott was watching them from not too far away, and when Coco's back was to him, he pointed to Agott, then to Coco, and angled his head a bit in suggestion. Agott caught his gaze and nodded, and the last thing Olruggio saw before he went inside was Agott heading over to check on Coco.

It was quiet in the atelier — something that Olruggio did not often get to experience. His tower tended to be fairly peaceful, but the main space always had something going on, even when the girls were working. But they were all out taking advantage of the nice day, and instead of Qifrey cheerfully humming away in the kitchen, he was shut away in his chambers in hopes of keeping the rest of them from getting sick. Olruggio snagged a waterskin from the kitchen and made his way back to Qifrey's room.

He had planned to just poke his head in and confirm that he was still breathing, not wanting to disrupt any potential sleep he might be getting, but as he approached the door he could hear the other man coughing within. He raised his hand and knocked twice on the wood.

"'s me."

"Olly…come in."

Qifrey's voice was weak and hoarse, and Olruggio took a steeling breath before letting himself in.

Qifrey's chambers were usually fairly tidy beyond the odd stack of books and papers on his desk and dresser, but today the place was a mess. The curtains were tugged shut, miring the place in a shadowy gloom, and the bedsheets and pillows were disheveled and half on the floor. His nightstand was empty but for a couple of crumpled handkerchiefs.

"Disheveled" was also too kind of a word to describe the room's only inhabitant, who was sitting up against stacked pillows and tucked into a nest of blankets. Qifrey's hair was flat and untidy, and he looked wan and damp with sweat. Most surprisingly, he wasn't wearing his glasses, which gave Olruggio a clear look at how fever-bright his eye was.

He looked naked and vulnerable like this, and ill, and Olruggio was glad at once that the girls hadn't seen him. He closed the door carefully behind himself.

"Have you taken any tranquilleaf yet today?"

Qifrey shook his head and coughed into his fist. It was a chesty, breathless sound with a gasp on the tail end of it, and Olruggio sighed.

"You look like your fever's up again. Here." He handed Qifrey the waterskin, who took it and drank from it gratefully.

"Thank you, Olly," he rasped once he'd drank his fill. "I'm sorry. I'll take some shortly."

"You'd better. The girls're worrying about you."

Something like pain creased Qifrey's expression, and he looked down at the bedsheets. "Please tell them I'll be all right."

"Don't make me a liar."

Qifrey looked as if he was about to speak again, but something brief and irritated flickered across his expression, and he angled his body away from Olruggio to sneeze into the elbow of his nightshirt. "htt'shieu, ITSCH'oo! TXHshieu!"

"Bless," Olruggio rumbled. "If you keep holding 'em in like that you're going to give yourself quite the 'eadache."

"Already there, I'm afraid," Qifrey breathed. He found a handkerchief somewhere in the tangle of blankets and wiped delicately at his nose with a sniffle.

"'s that why it's so dark in 'ere? Looks like a tomb."

Qifrey nodded miserably. On instinct, Olruggio reached out to press the back of his hand to Qifrey's forehead, wanting to check the degree of his fever, but Qifrey deflected the touch and gently pushed him away.

"I don't want to get you ill."

"You know I'll end up gettin' it anyway," Olruggio grumbled, and he stepped away from the bed to conceal the flash of hurt that he could feel on his features. Qifrey was always like this when he was ill. Why wouldn't he just let Olruggio look after him? Always mothering the girls and Olruggio and never letting anyone do the same to him.

"That's because you don't let yourself rest," Qifrey said, an infuriating echo of an argument they'd been having for a decade or more.

The irony of it was the last straw. Olruggio rounded on him. "You're in some position to be sayin' that," he said heatedly. "Look at you in 'ere, no food, no water, no medicine, just sufferin' in the dark like you think that's all you deserve." He took a step back towards the bed, something like pleading slipping into his tone. "C'mon, Qifrey. You've got the girls to be lookin' after now, which you can't do if you don't look after yourself first."

It was probably playing dirty, mentioning the girls again, but if that was what it took, Olruggio was not above it. He did still feel a little bit of guilt when Qifrey looked away, his eye overbright even for being feverish.

"I know," Qifrey said quietly, his voice breaking a little as he blinked away what looked to be the beginnings of tears. "I'm sorry."

Olruggio squeezed his eyes shut and dug the heel of his hand into his forehead with a sigh. "Stop apologizin' and just take the damn tranquilleaf."

"If I -- hhpardon me -- ISCHieu! hkk'TSIEW!"

Olruggio opened his eyes to see Qifrey bent forward over his lap, handkerchief clutched in tented hands, blinking blearily. "Bless you."

A watery sniffle from Qifrey. "Thank you, Olly."

Olruggio could tell by his tone that he wasn't just thanking him for the blessing, and he looked away, embarrassment beginning to heat the back of his neck. "Yeah yeah. How about that tranquilleaf, then."

"Would you...mind fetching it for me? It's on the dresser."

There was a mug on the dresser that Olruggio had assumed was long-cold tea. He brought it to Qifrey's bedside. "D'you want me to warm it up?"

Qifrey shook his head with the shadow of a smile. "No, thank you."

Their fingertips brushed briefly when Olruggio handed off the mug, a split second of contact that sent warmth tingling up his arm. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his robes. "I'm stayin' until I see you drink some of that."

Qifrey started to laugh, which proved to be a mistake as his lungs seized in a harsh and congested coughing fit. Both of them winced.

"I suppose I should," Qifrey rasped once he'd recovered. He took a sip from the mug and sighed. Olruggio hoped that the tranquilleaf would start to work quickly on his cough in particular. "But I think I would like to rest some more, if that's all right."

Olruggio eyed the mug and then met Qifrey's gaze with firm steadiness. "All right. But I'll know if you don't finish drinkin' that. Don't make me drag you to the hospital in Kalhn."

Qifrey made a face. "I'll finish it, I promise. Thank you, again."