qifrey, olruggio, beldaruit ﹠ easthies x reader: how do they apologize after an argument?
꒰ sfw. fem!reader. easthies was somewhat physically and psychologically agressive—it's mentioned he held reader's wrist tightly and gave her silence treatment, that's it. age gap mentions on beldaruit's part. well, I didn't reread…… ꒱
As Qifrey breathed in the essence of dew left in the air, he followed the whimpers that could be heard from the farthest distance.
That somewhat unruffled temperament, to the point of emitting a glacial chill that would tighten one’s throat, had helped Qifrey when it came to keep someone quiet with a single stare. But now he had ministrated it to the wrong person.
“It’s darkening, it'll probably rain too…” he commented, pushing back the flora that surrounded your secret retreat. Blackened ebony tendons formed a living dome over your form—if Qifrey looked too much at those, the ripples on the trees would take the form of mocking smirks, a personification made exclusively to ridicule him.
He merely reached out with his hand, yet it was enough for you to retreat—not in anger, your pupils weren't dilated in that fashion. Actually, you seemed quite unquiet.
“I scared you, didn't I…” Now his usual looks were back. He sat on the grass with you and fixed your messy clothes—you had run away so eagerly just now, so they were crumbled and filled with leaves. He had pondered if it was better to leave you alone, but instead he allowed himself to be selfish and sought to slayer the weight as soon as possible.
“You did scare me, it's just that… you seemed a bit…”
“Off?”
You nodded.
“Well dear, that's quite the understatement.”
“But you didn't do anything, so-”
“Darling… some things are quite hard to let out, aren't they? But truth must be said, I didn't handle the situation like it was fit. Honey, you can tell me…”
You still hugged your knees, although now you were much more relaxed for the thighness in your grip had subsided.
“Oh, dear me.” He clasped his hands together, relishing on how comfortable you were getting. “Are you mad? Are you scared…?”
“Not anymore…”
Qifrey offered you his hand, which now you joyfully accepted. He hugged your arm, resting his face on your shoulder. At the vision of it, you flushed and turned around…
“You’re getting so warm now, hmm…? Dear, from now on that's the only kind of emotion I'll give you… perhaps we could find more overwhelming, yet pleasant ones, for you to savor…” he grinned.
So full of sorrow and mercifulness, and with such a trembling pulse, that his spells seemed to be drawn by somebody else—a much inexperienced person, possibly.
Olruggio rose from his chair, the ebony table before him adorned by crumbled ink smeared papers. His fingers tips went from his forehead to his chin as he massaged the heavy eyelids, messy beard and uncertainty away from his defeated grimace.
The moments passed swiftly and gloriously during the fleeting seconds of victory Olruggio experienced by the morning. But the forming of reddish eyebags on your face and the puffiness of your wet cheeks instantly disrupted his stillborn pride. Perchance he had used a too loud voice or cast an unpleasant remark without noticing.
Either way… it’s needless to say he should've been gentler. After all, he didn't hold himself in the highest position, you were certainly in a much adored location inside his heart. Therefore, it was enough of a reason to stop sweeping it under the mat and finally facing you.
You could only sniff after you had properly used up all your tears—chin resting on your knees as you tilted to see a small, glowing bird turning into tiny sparkles by your side. You turned back as your room’s door was slightly opened. Cleaning your eyes with your knuckles, you begun:
“Is it a new spell? It's very pretty!”
If you had met him with the expected hardness of a broken heart it'd have been much easier to remain on the lie he was dwelling in the past hours. However, you dared to glitter just like usual.
“I was planning on showing it to you, but…” he stepped fully inside—you felt his weight settling down by your side on the mattress.
“I annoyed you…” you uttered.
“No, I ended up hurting you… even though you're so kind to me, you see…” by holding your shoulder, Olruggio gently dragged you closer, turning you to face his form.
He held your hands, settling them so they'd be cupped. You looked up, wondering what was about to happen when he completed the circle of a spell unbeknownst to you—it gingerly took the form of a small hare, hopping onto your hands and oversprinkling into a composition akin to fairy dust once it laid on your nosetip.
Lord, it tickled so bad, but you couldn't help giggling both at the upcoming sneeze and how Olruggio was using fairy magic for such stuff. He was probably still working on it, therefore the terrible results of that dust.
“Why would you make it? It's so silly, certainly not something Olruggio of the Torch would craft with fire magic!”
He moved closer, kissing your cheek so strongly he had to hold onto your waist so you wouldn't crumble—actually he just wanted to squeeze you there.
“Let’s say I made it for a very lovely person…”
Although it was enough for you to understand he was sorry, he couldn't only go with that. Olruggio pulled you into a bone cracking hug, softened by his beard tickling your shoulders.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You're too special for me to have treated you like that, do you forgive your silly Olruggio? He… I mean, I really want you back…”
You cackled, your face bursting with joyful tears. He was talking in the third person? Well… he must truly be sorry.
Beldaruit's room was the kind that mixed the gloomy with the grandiose: it was home of an exquisite type of decoration. It also had its share of masterful paintings, adorned with pearly arabesques. Either way, today was boring. He could count each glittering joy that he had collected, play with all his usual mirages, but none would satisfy that tingling feeling.
Actually, about those illusions he'd cast… he wasn't very fond of them now for he tried to use one to apologize, but your smile faltered the moment you noticed the glowing ends of his hair and the bubbles surrounding his vests.
He sighed, what a moron of an old man he was!
Wasn't the older side of any form of relationship supposed to be the mature one? The one who the younger partner would look up to and go to in search for any comfort? But it seemed like now you’d avoid his gaze to spare yourself from a trembling chin. Even the children could catch on to his change of behavior… perhaps if he hadn't been a coward.
Now, the great sage Beldaruit couldn't go like that for too long, especially not with the person he was the most fond of! It'd be a chore to find such a sweetheart like you, after all, no one could be his favorite like you were.
He wondered what you were thinking now, perhaps, given how gilt your heart was, you had already forgiven him, but he was too radiant to forgive himself like this.
You walked, circling the same area of that undersea miracle as you connected the fingertips of both of your hands, wondering, dreaming awake about the multiple ways you could go inside his chamber. Suddenly, you felt a tiny tap, a pixie-like touch to your shoulder. As you looked back, a small translucent butterfly fluttered by, following you incessantly.
It didn't lead you anywhere… you already knew where his place was, after all. But its transparent wings gained a cyan glow whenever you headed in a certain direction.
And, finally, when you found yourself a few meters away from him, the bug reached its most saturated hue, heading towards its kin that played around the sage. Beldaruit stayed still, watching a peaceful waterfront attentively.
“Oh, I'm too much of a wuss. You see…” he said, scratching his chin. “That illusion mishap… I suppose I should apologize about that first, it was more heartless than any sarcastic taunt I threw to you, my angel…” he opened his arm. “Come here? Please, don't be way too mean to me. It shows that I'd never bear to be treated like I treated you…”
You trotted towards the sage, throwing yourself onto his arms.
“My, as vivacious as a little goat!”
“Why are you here? I thought you'd be in your room!"
“Oh dear, no… no, I wanted to at least manage to show you something pretty to apologize for what I did…” he pulled you onto his chest, burying his nose on the top of your head.
“It seems like the old Bel was very mean to his favorite person! What a silly old man he is, treating a poor darling like you in such a ruthless manner…” he nodded to himself, pecking you sheepishly.
“That’s fine, Bel, I forgive you!” still, he furrowed.
“Hmm, no! That was too easy. Tell me something you want, anything!”
“Really, there's no reason-”
“Oh, hush! Do you want to fight again? I assure you I'm too old for it, I rather just spoil for the day…”
It is on a morning holiday that Easthies decide to martyr himself, feeling a sudden and unprecedented dedication to self-punishment. It was necessary to rummage through his memories, hunting in its collection for something that would motivate him to not linger in that position—with the hope of perhaps finding within it some trace that would finally prove to his core that that lethargy was not born of a naive daydream, but of a material, tangible form.
He could picture your image onto the flaring candles, you were even to blame for the static on his uncombed hair. Easthies had treated you like an outlaw, one who had stepped far enough not to be punished, but not too much to be properly handled.
His silent treatment hurt you the most. Having him daring only to look at you for an iota of a second whenever he passed by. Trying to simply greet him a good morning and being met with nothing but a quick furrow. It was painful. And he now felt failed for allowing himself to handle you with such an uncaring attitude.
That was he heard a rapping, a shy tapping upon his door. By opening it, he stared at your face for too long.
“I know you don't want to talk to me, but…” you fidgeted. “I’m sorry…”
Sorry, but for what? He was the one who had held your wrist tightly, the one who whispered quite the bitter message of how making amends was not a suitable path. Didn’t he also mention how you were holding him back from work when you stuttered to hold your point?
“I didn't want to annoy you… I won't talk to you ever again if you don't want me to…”
Well, perhaps he was actually very good at victim blaming, you even fall for it. Or maybe you just liked him a lot, didn't you? It hurt him either way, but you were hurt the most.
Easthies let you inside, closing the door behind you. He lingered still, until he allowed himself to crack that outer exterior.
“You shouldn't apologize, darling…” he massaged your face. You had never seen Easthies this bad—the last time he got this messy was during Silver Eve. His hair was still as graceful, but it was the tattle-tale of how much he was falling apart today.
“I was mean to you, wasn't I? Ignoring you like that… such a childish behavior. But I still called you a kid out of bitterness, didn't I?” He held onto your waist, pulling you atop of him as he fell onto the bed. You held yourself by playing your hands on the sides of the bedsheets that framed his neck.
Easthies pulled you further so you’d finally fall upon him. “I’m sorry, dearie… you know, I love you a lot, you're the most darling person in my life… yet I still…” his words tickled your ears, you could only giggle at it.
“Oh, smilling already, are we? I do deserve to be toyed with after that…” he grinned as you rose to then lie by his side.
“I’m not playing with you! You were tickling me by talking so close!” you begin to braid a random lock of his hair, of course he didn't mind.
“But now all I want is to be so close to you, my love…” he caressed your wrist, he still remembered how it seemed to redden when he released his grasp after that…
“That was the worst thing I could've done… now I'll only touch you like porcelain… ”
“You mean my wrist?” He nodded. “It barely hurt!”
“Whether it did or not is not our utmost goal here, love… I should never do that to whom I cherish the most, should I?”
“No…”
“Do you forgive me? Even my silence treatment…? Even you don't, dear, that's completely understandable-” you immediately hugged his neck tightly, he had to tap your back to be released and breath efficiently again.
“Of course I do! I like you lots, Easthies!”
“Oh, my darling girl. As for me, I don't ‘like you lots’, I adore you…”
