olruggio of the torch

When his friend offered him more of his sleeve to toy with, Qifrey does. Fingers running up and down the fabric, stopping at the hem to tug at it ever so slightly. He remembered how heavy the cloak actually was, he remembered the first day Olruggio had presented it to him, proudly, with that handsome smile on his face. It was a fond memory. Olruggio wrapping it around Qifrey’s shoulders to show how heavy but comfortable it was, Qifrey had felt like the cloak could have easily served as some kind of blanket. It had made him feel terribly warm, too comfortable, and yet he couldn’t help but wish he could step closer and hide beneath that cloak, to turn his face away from the tragedy that seemed to await him at the end of this very long road.

The brushbuddy’s tiny feet moving over his arm and up over his shoulder are a comfortable distraction, there was just the slightest bit of pressure where its little paws dug into the fabric of his cloak. The animal was as cute as it was clingy, though it usually was following the girls or being carried around by them, it came to Olruggio’s workshop when it felt mischievous, but it mostly only came to Qifrey when it felt like he needed comfort. And maybe he did. Though in this very moment, it was obvious to him that it was not only himself who was nervous, he could tell Olruggio was as well; with the way he worded his sentences very carefully, with the way he looked at everything but Qifrey’s face.

“I have never thought about settling down somewhere else, no”, Qifrey said while he tried to make his voice sound as calm and composed as possible, for both their sakes.

“I have never wanted to build a house with someone else. This is our home, Olly. We have wanted this since we were young. We made something out of these ruins, us two, together.”

The white-haired man took a deep breath, not out of annoyance, more to calm himself, calm his pulse, calm the Silverwood. His Olruggio, his dear Olly.. Qifrey could guess where all this was going, or maybe it would go into a completely different direction this time. Maybe after all this time his feelings finally went into an opposite direction? Maybe all the questions about a different place to live, a different person to spend his life with were asked.. because Olruggio finally had enough? Maybe he had finally found someone at the Great Hall to come home to instead of staying with him? No.. he couldn’t think that way.

“So, no. Olruggio. I am hapy here in this little atelier. With the girls. With you.”

A little “pwee!” was heard from the brushbuddy lounging on his shoulder.

“And with brushbuddy, of course. So if there is anything you want to change, it is up to you.”

"I don't want anything to change," he says, lips curved in a gentle smile. It is a lie, but not in the way one would presume it to be; he wants change, but only in the idea of being closer to Qifrey.

Unfortunately, he has never given a sign of such desires in return, so Olruggio settles in with the fact that having Qifrey in his life as his dearest friend is enough. So long as he's by his side, that is enough. Sure, the want may rear its head time and time again, he may wake up from dreams of finally having him in his arms and have to collect himself, but —

Just seeing Qifrey each day, watching him care for and teach their girls … It warms his heart, much like the snugstone tucked in his pocket keeps his fingers from freezing in the midst of winter. That is Qifrey's place in his life. A source of comfort that he hopes Qifrey sees in him, as well.

"Sometimes, though… you get this look about you," he says, resting his chin in one hand, "I just worry about you, is all. Picking up the search again after all these years, taking Coco in … It's a lot of change all at once."

He looks down toward Qifrey's hand on his sleeve, contemplating that it would be quite easy to move the few inches that separate them and take his hand. Qifrey's always run a bit colder than him and it is easy to imagine the slight chill in his fingers, to joke about how he never uses the snugstones despite Olruggio's insistence. But he resists, instead relaxing and keeping his eyes trained on his hand so he doesn't have to make eye contact.

"I just wanted to know that you're happy here. Told you before that I plan to stick around and watch you get old, and that's not changing, long as you'll have me around."

"We've really built something good here. I still remember when we were kids, seeing this spot, hearing you say how perfect it was… I hadn't thought about where I wanted to settle until then, you know. Second you said you liked the old ruins and seeing the stars every night … Well. Made the decision for me."

sword and shield

Qifrey made a little humming sound, not agreeing, but not denying the argument either. Instead of saying something he simply watched the little brushbuddy crawl along Olruggio’s shoulders, being as close to him as Qifrey always wanted to be. It would have been so easy to reach out a hand and brush his fingers over Olruggio’s cheek, or ruffle his hair, or just hold his hand. Olruggio was so close and yet forever out of reach.

It would have been easy to ask what exactly Olruggio was grateful for, Qifrey would get to bask in the guilt and the anxiety that came with it, but instead Olruggio replies with a question of his own and it felt like Qifrey’s heart was about to jump out of his chest. His breath hitched and his pale cheeks turned into a soft hue of pink, all while he had to remain casual.

What exactly did Olruggio mean with this? What did it matter how Qifrey wanted their lives to be, it was not like he could really tell Olruggio, it was not like any of his dreams were really accomplishable. He couldn’t get close to the Brimmed Caps without putting his apprentices in danger, he couldn’t retrieve his memories nor his eye so he would never be whole again, and he would never get to kiss Olruggio. So what did it matter what he wanted in life?

Now it was Qifrey who sighed, but it was not with exhaustion, it was almost.. a sad sigh, and still a smile found a way on his lips, he was too used to play and pretend by now.

Oh, how badly he wanted to get close to Olruggio, he wanted to hold that precious face in his hands, he wondered what it felt like to have the other’s warm hands on his body, he wondered if Olruggio’s beard would tickle when he kissed Qifrey’s neck. He was so full of want, want, want and yet he could have nothing.

With his hands empty he realized he needed something to fidget with, he could not pluck brushbuddy from Olruggio’s shoulders after he had just placed it there, so he casually tugged on Olruggio’s sleeve, toying with the soft fabric.

Maybe he's never asked this because he's felt like their lives are securely intertwined. Or maybe because he doesn't want to know the answer, not when the possibility is that Qifrey will say what he fears most. After a quick nudge from the brushbuddy on his shoulder, he fixes his eyes on Qifrey again, now just in time to feel his fingers against his sleeve. At that, the brushbuddy takes its chance and scampers down his arm, skittering over Qifrey's arm instead. 

He's tempted to call it a tiny little traitor for depriving him of what little security its warmth offers. He doesn't. 

“Maybe I'm thinkin’ too deep on this, I don't know. I'm happy here, and that's what worries me. I'm glad to be here with you and the kids, but I just…” 

He nudges his arm slightly closer to Qifrey, letting him have more of the sleeve he's running his fingers over. Breaking eye contact, he hopes the way his face is heating up is only obvious to himself — but he's always flushed easily, and if anyone can read nervousness in him, it's Qifrey. 

“I guess I've never asked since I'm happy, but… You've never wanted to settle down anywhere else? With anyone else? Kids that aren't your apprentices or anything?” 

Thankfully, he's able to keep his eyes trained on the window of the far wall rather than watch Qifrey's expressions — he's not sure he'd like what he finds there if his fears have any substance. While he's never experienced heartbreak in the traditional sense, the idea of Qifrey settling down elsewhere gets him the closest to that feeling, he's sure.