Chapter Text
Callum readied himself for the day, taking a little extra time perfecting his appearance. His mirror, which had barely been touched in the years since he’d returned home, was suddenly getting much more attention. Which actually meant, he was getting much more attention. It was all a bit pointless. Rayla had fallen in love with him under the worst possible circumstances. At times they both went days without seeing their reflections or being able to bathe. And yet, he had this urge to present his best self now that he was able, showing Rayla what he was capable of beyond the travel-weary, battle-scarred, mediocre mage she’d grown accustomed to. This new Callum could dress well if he wanted. Comb his hair and clean his teeth.
But today his grooming wasn’t just for Rayla. He was going to ask a favor of his brother who had a lot of his own stresses to deal with as a fourteen-year-old with a kingdom to manage and a brother who’d only been half there for him since returning from war. Fourteen. Close to the same age as Callum when he'd first set foot in Xadia. Both brothers too young to fully understand the trauma they would be weighed down with when all was said and done. Although, nothing was ever truly said and done when it came to war. While not always present, grief and darkness laid in wait, ready to shock them at the most inopportune times. Memories of all the terrible things they’d seen and done. And of those who hadn't made it out alive.
Callum studied his reflection, the slight scar to the right of his eye seeming more prominent today than usual. That had been from an enemy’s blade Rayla stopped just in time. And then there was the way his neck ached from when he’d nearly been strangled to death. So many signs- some obvious, some not- that were reminders of a painful past. Signs his brother had too. Since coming home, Callum had sometimes taken his brother for granted. Sure, he contributed to their kingdom, sat in on meetings, offered advice. But as the paintings strewn across his room could attest, he’d dealt with his physical and mental wounds by losing a part of who he was. Without Ezran’s support, Callum wasn’t sure where he’d be. And now, he was about to ask him for more help.
Pulling in a lung full of air, Callum held it for a moment, before exhaling loudly. Then straightening his scarf, he sent his reflection an unconvincing grin and exited the room to meet with Rayla. Typically, the halls were empty this time of the day. Mostly just staff; the few he saw nodded or smiled as he passed.
When Rayla emerged from her room wearing a dress, Callum raised his brows. “What?” she demanded. “You told me to spruce myself up and you’ve seen me in this thing before. Don’t act so surprised.”
He shrugged. “I know, but I can’t help it. You basically wore the same outfit the whole time we were together in Xadia.”
“Well, at least I’m not living in the past,” she wryly ridiculed, tugging on his scarf. Her eyes glinted.
Callum straightened his scarf, willing to take on the challenge of giving as good as he got, but held back the blithe retort he had waiting, after spying someone walking towards them. Another staff member. Callum went to smile a greeting, but the look the man gave him communicated he clearly wanted to escape his chance encounter with the prince and his elf friend. Glancing away, Callum caught Rayla’s eye. She’d felt the silent rebuke too. Neither mentioned it out loud, but they didn’t need to. It was quite apparent what the man had meant to subtly relay to them.
Thankfully, the kitchen was nearby and filled with friendly faces that outnumbered the unpleasant one from the hall. And inside- exactly where Callum knew he’d be- was his brother, loaded up with jelly tarts. His welcome was just as warm as the kitchen staff's. “Callum! Rayla! Come get some of these. They’re best when they’re fresh.”
“Yeah, get ‘em before he eats ‘em all,” a woman’s voice rose above all the clatter of pots and pans, and Callum chuckled. For as much as his brother had changed, he’d also stayed the same.
“So what brings you down here?” Ezran asked, shoving jelly-filled pastries in their direction as they approached. Callum took a bite, but Rayla remained a step behind him, uncharacteristically timid. She laid her tart back on the baker’s counter.
“Well, I have an idea," Callum answered, “and wanted to get your opinion.”
Ezran feigned annoyance. “You sound just like all those self-important people who constantly need my approval for things.” He was joking, but Callum could see the thinly veiled honesty behind the sarcasm. Being King was a responsibility his brother took on selflessly, but most days he’d rather be in the forest communicating with animals.
“Well, this will be better because it involves Rayla. And she’s only self-important every other day.” Callum winked at her and she exaggerated an eye roll.
“Okay, then what is it?” Ezran appeared intrigued while shoving the last bits of a jelly tart in his mouth.
Callum swallowed. “Well, it’s about me and Rayla, and us wanting to be more truthful with everyone. Can the three of us talk somewhere more private?”
Ezran suggested they use his planning room, given that name after the war ended. Callum hadn’t been around when its official title was used- the war room- but as a child, he’d seen his father enter there plenty of times. Usually, with Viren leading the way and an entourage of lackeys following. An unwelcome image flashed inside Callum’s mind of a man who since his death had become a repressed memory. Not so much a man, but an opportunistic monster who through his greed had taken so much from him, from his family, and from their kingdom. A tightness knotted in the center of his chest, with growing threads reaching out threatening to pull him underwater. After passing through the threshold of the room, he paused staring at the long rectangular table with a row of chairs placed on either side and a large ornate one at the head for Ezran. He imagined Viren sitting there, his face distorted in a mix of contrasting colors like it had been near the end. The situation inside Callum’s mind was devolving quickly; he felt lightheaded and was certain a panic attack wasn’t far off.
Of all times for this to happen!
But Rayla- so attuned to him even after their long separation- sensed his discomfort and snaked an arm around his back, steadying him, an encouraging smile on her lips. With her help, Callum was able to force the image of evil from his mind and by the time they all sat at the table- Ezran foregoing his chair and sitting directly across from them- panic no longer threatened to hold him hostage … for now.
“This room hardly gets used anymore, but it’s great for private conversations,” Ezran stated, relaxing lazily in his chair, a smidge of jelly clinging to the corner of his mouth. “So, what did you wanna ask me that you couldn’t back in the kitchen?” When a situation required it, Callum’s brother could pull on a mask of stern stoicism, but how he looked now, that was his true nature. Ezran was a kid, who wasn’t allowed to be one and therefore never forgot to sink into the skin of a boy without responsibilities when the rare chance presented itself.
But a moment later, that mature king- the one he was forced to be at times- shoved this nonchalant boy aside after Callum made his request. “Well Ez, Rayla and I would like to be more open about our relationship. Dating. Mated. Courting ... whatever you want to call it. We want to show the kingdom that a relationship with an elf and human is possible. But mostly we don’t want to hide who we are and thought you could host a celebration to ...”
Callum hesitated; Ezran had placed a hand up, showing his palm, a gesture he’d seen their father make many times. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, because I think you and Rayla wanting to be open about your relationship is great and I support that, but as king, I have to approach this from another point of view.”
Rayla and Callum shared a look, anxiety written in her furrowed brow. He squeezed her hand then asked his brother, “What do you mean?”
Ezran rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Other kingdoms might see your relationship as a political statement, that we’re siding with the Moonshadow elves, trying to create a greater kingdom with better resources. More than theirs.”
“But our relationship has nothing to do with politics. Rayla’s not even royal,” Callum countered, his voice rising slightly in disbelief. “And I’m not even king.”
“But you're my brother, and it’s not unheard of to use siblings as pawns to form alliances.”
Callum couldn’t deny this, although the practice hadn’t been used in recent times. Still, there were stories from past generations of alliances formed through marriage. Ezran’s disapproval of his request no longer surprised him, but the wound inflicted by his practicality still lingered.
“I want you to know that this doesn't mean I’m against you and Rayla eventually presenting yourselves as a couple,” Ezran continued. “I’m only suggesting that you take your time. Not everyone knows about your past the way I do. Give people a chance to come to terms with a human and elf together. Make it seem like a natural progression and not a political statement." He paused, motioning towards Rayla. "Give the kingdom time to see you as one of them. You and Callum have been separated for a long time. Maybe it would be good to start fresh and if you just so happen to let others see that process, then it might help. Maybe you could even find a purpose for yourself among our people. You’re a trained spy and assassin, that could be useful in the Royal Guard.”
Rayla didn’t outright blanch at this idea, but Callum saw the way she sank into her chair and hugged herself. “You sound like you’re strategizing our relationship as a battle plan," he remarked derisively, coming to her defense.
Ezran deflated, a bit of his kingly presence shrinking behind the insecurity of his older brother’s disapproval. When he talked as a ruler, it was sometimes easy to forget his actual age, and Callum rushed to apologize, but Rayla got there first. “And that’s understandable,” she said. “We need a battle plan if we’re gonna fight against preconceived notions. Prejudices. What were we thinkin’, Callum? A party? Where we just come out and say, 'Here we are together. Hope you're okay with that.' Nothin’ has ever been as simple as a party when it comes to us. We shoulda known.”
“But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t love to have you be part of our family, because to me you already are my sister and have been for years,” Ezran added, regaining his composure. "It might sound dumb, but let our people feel that way about you too. It'll take time, but I don't see why a wedding wouldn't eventually be possible."
Rayla looked demurely aside and Callum felt the burn of a blush creeping up his neck. A wedding? Now that definitely wouldn’t be simple, but something he could see happening in the future. He hoped.
“He wants me to join the Royal Guard?” Rayla kept saying in exasperation. “Fightin’ is the last thing I wanna do. I’ve done my fair share.”
They were walking through the castle garden, trying to make sense of things. A bee buzzed by Callum’s ear and he swatted it away.
“No one's really fighting right now and it’s only so others will see you’re on our side.” Even Callum hated the way it sounded and shook his head. “N-Not that there are sides anymore. But kinda like when you were a spy back in Xadia. Just that it’ll be good for everyone to see you in Katolis colors.” Ugh, Ezran had explained it so much better. Why was he even trying to convince Rayla? It was only making things worse. “Look.” He forced his voice to be even, smooth, and not the bumbling idiot squeak he had been using. “You know none of this matters to me. We could just leave now. Go make our little cottage and live outside the box everyone’s trying to shove us in. Just you and me. And our garden.”
Rayla stopped walking, a distant look clouding her eyes. Then she turned to him and moved her bottom lip between her teeth, gnawing the skin briefly. “You know, Ezran is the only family we still have. I don’t wanna lose him too.”
“Well, there’s also my Aunt Amya,” Callum mentioned. Rayla’s gaze instantly narrowed; the two hadn’t exactly had the best introduction and their relationship never recovered despite them eventually fighting on the same side back in Xadia. "Hey, it’s okay. Things are different now.”
“Not different enough apparently,” Rayla huffed but quickly backtracked. “I’m sorry. Today was a setback for us both, not just me. I'm bein' selfish. And everythin’ Ez said made sense. He’s a smart fella. No wonder Katolis is okay with a kid for a king.”
Callum took her hand. “But you’re the one making all the sacrifices. You left your home. Your people. And you’re the only elf around a bunch of humans. So, let me make one too.” He couldn’t believe what he was about to say and gulped. “I’ll join the guard with you.”
When Rayla laughed, he tried not to take it personally. “No,” she told him once the humor in his ridiculous declaration ran its course. “I wouldn't have time to save your hide if I was tryna defend the kingdom too.” She removed her hand from Callum’s and patted his cheek in a condescending way. He couldn’t even be annoyed; Rayla was right.
“So, what’s the solution then?” Callum asked, lifting her hand from his face so he could brush a kiss against her knuckles.
She smiled then replied, “Well, for starters, we could do as Ez suggested. Start fresh. Which means, you sir, are gonna take me out on a proper Katolis date so you can show me off to your people. We need to start definin' our relationship outside of what we had during the war and focus on makin' us seem normal.”