Work Text:
It soon turned out
i had a heart of glass
miley cyrus - heart of glass
Eleven months, thirty days. Rayla had left eleven months and thirty days ago. She left in the weak and twig-like hours before Callum's birthday, his first without Harrow, and, without her.
Eleven months, fourteen days. Eleven months fourteen days since she came back. Her lip bloodied, her hair unevenly cut at the jaw, blunt and bitter after being mostly burnt off by dark magic. And, with news on three very, very special people.
And news on a fourth; Though not so special, so bitter and blunt in fact, the thought of it made the back of her throat sore and her tongue taste wrong in her own mouth.
Viren.
Alive and still, a year later, unaccounted for. Rayla bit moons into her soft palms with her nails. She'd been hunting him for a year now. Still after all she went through, during and thereafter, she didn't know where that vile man was lurking.
In the physical real world.
For he haunted her dreams, her days, her nights, her afternoons. The ghost of him was such a companion she might know him more than her own reflection; which she could barely tolerate. The sharper nose, the moonlight hair still kept at the jaw, the feathery ends teasing the corner of it relentlessly. The tip of her horn, gone to that man—
—Felt less known to her than the deceased purple and ash of his twisted face, lips and brows and pure black eyes curved, contorted in both the horror on his face as he fell off the Storm Spire, and the smile when she was trapped in the ice, trying to break free.
He wasn't even a second shadow, he'd engulfed her own. He was all she had.
Still, the callous jump into the realm in between life and death wasn't entirely in vain, she knew how to get her parents back, and Runaan.
Or rather, where to get them, and who to make them whole again.
They were in a prison, not unlike the realm she dwelled in for almost three weeks, just not entirely the same. So she, Callum and Soren thought; If there was one in between, one realm outside of her own, could there not be others? Of differing levels? Her uncle and parents sit in one of those unknown realms.
Waiting to be saved, come out unscathed, hopefully.
That was the theory, anyway.
However much the information was completely invaluable to her, it was worth less than dirt in those early nights. Little more than fools gold, the shine there and enticing with its splendor, only to yield no real value.
Surely she could have found out about the coins some other way? And avoid the silence with Callum, crayons wide and trenches deep. The dark magic used for the prison had to be in some human books. There had to be other ways, had to have been, then the one she chose.
The days and nights longer than rivers had left her more broken then when she had just come back from her journey alone. Like her heart was glass, but no one was kind enough to smash it quickly, so day after day, a piece and shard at a time, it was shattered.
Each quiet fight with Callum's unnerving calm anger, each silent night, while they slept in different beds. The journey back to Katolis and later, the longer talks. The longer nights. Broke it more—
until the talks grew more quiet, more passionate, until Callum started creeping to her bed to speak, one of his legs tucked under him as he sat on the edge of the bed, his other dangling off. Until he let her grap his hands, and rub her thumb over his red knuckles—
until she realized it wasn't breaking, but healing.
Though, no one tells you that's just as painful, so much so you don't even realize the growth and mistake it for more of the hurt you've suffered for so long.
It was months before she pressed her cheek to the small, almost invisible freckles of his back, the valley between his shoulder blades. Months before he curled his body around her, his hand on her waist, his warm chest on her back, rising and falling, each breath saying:
I'm here. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving.
And, Rayla liked to think, her heart (each beat like the sound of crackling glass patched together with a glue not quite strong enough yet) replied with feverish intent, like she could burn the words into his fleshy palm and it wouldn't be enough:
So am I. So am I. So am I.
Rayla glanced at the grandfather clock standing proud in her bedroom.
Almost time to go down.
She shuffled about the room, her room, her alone because she didn't want to wake Callum on the eve of his birthday.
Shrugging herself into her crimson and autumn gold and earth brown ensemble. A dress shirt with swirling gold trails of silken thread, brown a-line pants tucked into sturdy boots, and golden bangles hugging her wrists, keeping the cream linen undershirt from riding up her forearms. It wasn't the most opulent thing she's worn since knowing Callum, but it was charming in it's own right; shining proud of Katolis's colorings.
The juxtaposition of her complexion and hair she kept pumping up, for some grab at volume, was startling. But in a way that intoxicated another look, instead of an averting of eyes.
She passed the loathsome mirror on her way to the door, stopping abruptly to gaze at herself.
Hardened, she was hardened. Made more so by the purple of the morning creeping into her room.
The sharp nose, the sharp shoulders, even under the coat and puffy shirt. Although she already had little curves or shape to her frame, whatever was left had scampered away and left the girl before her, calcified like bone.
Rayla shook herself, pinched her cheeks for color since she didn't like blush -always in shades of pink, with undertones of orange, never purple- Fluffed up the blunt ends of her bob more, then stopped, realizing if she continued her hair would get greasy.
Rayla hoped it was enough. She needed to look perfect for the night, and there wasn't time to lose for setting up the party.
She headed down the amber stairs of Lux Aurea.
many are the days i’ve wanted to cease
lay myself down and find some relief
the oh hellos - cold is the night
It was his eleventh birthday without Sarai, his second birthday without Harrow, his second birthday without Claudia, his second birthday without Viren.
He stood by his dresser, early afternoon sun spilling from the massive windows in Lux Aurea, buttoning up his linen shirt.
Callum knew he shouldn't keep a tally of all that he lost, but how could he not when the number was so high? Especially on his birthday, with the celebration of life brought with it, (it seemed for him any way) the thoughts of loss of it.
Viren and Claudia's fragile fates were undetermined, no one knew if they were alive, since the last time anyone saw them was Rayla, almost a full year ago. But it was a loss all the same.
The losses of his life seemed to define him, loss of a biological parent, loss of a father, a mother, a first love, a potential guardian (of sorts). These were what might make up the sixteen year old, if he let it.
Yes they seemed to define to others, what and who Callum was. But he swore he wouldn't let himself be carved out by it. Just bits, just pieces, like the texture of him and all he was would change in places, when one of his loses picked up a different tool with duller or sharper teeth, and made him up. Carved him from soap and clay.
But he promised himself a year ago that the chief sculptor would be him.
Now as he stood fiddling with his cuff links, a new thought, tender and small, creeped up into his mind, picking up a tool he hadn't yet seen before. Blunt and round on one end, and stinging sharp on the other. This was his first birthday with Janai, his first with Ethari, his first with Kazi.
His first with Rayla.
It was supposed to be his second.
It wasn't.
Callum popped the brass of his cuff link into the button slit. His hands fell to his sides, he clenched his teeth. He scanned the room, his room, his alone, for his boots.
His room alone because Rayla didn't wish to wake him, and Callum would always wake from her getting up. Ever since she returned back from the in between. Like the reflex was built in before, but it wasn't. It was only a year old. It took no time at all to guess the origin of it.
He sat down on the bed with heavy intent.
Callum had been angry for so long, it was now cold. Like the volcano from which it originated lay dormant. But near the blackened base lay globs and pools of it, and if you were to take a stick and poke at the surface, the gray and black skin would crack. Underneath, red and bright, still there. Still pulsing.
In dealing with his emotions, his volatile anger, he'd tried two things: Stuff it into jars and try to smash it, somewhere it couldn't be seen, shame. And second, feed it, let it burn anything, but he found gluttonous things were never satiated. Rage.
So then he was faced with a third option, examine it, and befriend it. He did.
He learned this: anger was healthy, and healthy anger reminded us of our self worth. Righteous anger reminded us of our self worth.
So it was still there, just not explosive (in the way that it was for him most times, calm monotone words and detached conversation), just justified. And there it would remain until he decided to let it go, or rather, never visit the old friend again. It wasn't a bad thing, or a nasty thing, not now anyways, he didn't need to be rid of it. Nor did he need to nurture it.
In those early months, his heart hadn't broken like he thought it might, rather it was charred. Burned down to a sickly skeletal thing, that didn't beat quite right.
Over time, when he'd made friends with his anger and started opening up to Rayla again, it was healing. Her persistent smile, genuine or a replica, was a soothing balm itself. But so often, and sometimes more so, were his words to her;
You left me. You hurt me. You lied. It wasn't right.
(Never, ever said with accusation, but rather fact. She did leave, it did hurt him. Factual.) They were a balm so healing it was like his scars were patched together with golden lacquer.
And the first time he kissed her sharp nose and bracketed her in his arms again, the bits of golden lacquer glowed.
It had been some time before they curled around each other and spoke about why. Why did she leave, why did she lie. Why, why, why.
Callum thought back to one of those nights, and the first time he yelled at her. He yelled at her only once. He probably thought about it more than she did, no doubt she felt he was completely justified in it. Maybe he was. But he couldn't let it go.
Never once, in all his life knowing his father did Callum ever see Harrow yell. Even after tiresome war councils. His anger was calm, but pointed. Like if he could just nudge it in a direction, it would be of use to him.
Callum didn't know when, but at some point in his young life he vowed to be like that, like his father. He lost that key bit of Harrow though, and took some time to find it. The putting his strong emotions to good use bit
He didn't know how to do that yet, and have it remain dormant. But, each time he left with Rayla on another mission to find her parents and uncle, he felt he was learning.
Afternoon sunlight slipped onto the floor from the window panes like cream, dust particles floated through the air. Callum finished lacing up his boots, popped up his collar, ruffed up his coarse hair. Tonight would be his first birthday with Rayla, and he wanted it to be good.
It wasn't the usual traditional to have the birthday person help with the party festivities, but this year there weren't many, and he needed to fill his time before midnight.
When the massive sundial in the center of Lux Aurea struck twelve, Callum would be sixteen.
what must it be like to grow up
that beautiful?
your hair falling into place
like dominos
taylor swift - gold rush
Rayla pointed just a bit higher and gave the thumbs up to Amaya. Who promptly hammered in the golden streamers and glass sharps on a string.
"Thank you." Rayla signed. Sign language was still very, very new to her. Thank you along with Sorry and Goodbye were one of the few signs that Janai taught her. It was still a learning process for them all, made more time-consuming with the lack of a fifth finger on the elves' part.
Amaya awkwardly signed a quick thanks with her free hand, the one that didn't hold the hammer.
The party was being held in the palace, specifically Queen Janai's personal quarters. Lux Aurea was a place of finery and riches, but Janai's sweet had to be one of the coziest places in the whole city. With large windows that let buckets of warming sunlight pour in, velvet couches and slippery golden-wood floorboards. It was just more personal, which is why Rayla convinced Amaya to hold it here.
Perhaps it was presumptuous, but Rayla didn't think Callum would want to spend his first birthday with her plagued by both her betrayal, and the home and castle that his father had lived in.
Who happened to have also died there.
Who happened to be murdered by her uncle.
...Who also happened to be one of the people they were tirelessly tracking down.
She just thought it would be better all around, to have fresh settings.
She scanned her surroundings, looking for something that needed fixing or someone that needed help. She only found the prince himself lurking in a hallway.
"Callum," she shook her head and paced over to him.
He looked too handsome for his own good; his hair, which had grown longer, was clean and smelling of sun-daisies and cinnamon, his brown sturdy boots, linen puffy shirt and red pants were crisp. His ears bore chunky gold jewelry that dangled at his jaw, matching his cufflinks.
Rayla quicked seized his shoulders and turned him on his heel. Shoving at the space between his shoulder blades. "Out with you! You'll ruin the whole surprise."
"What surprise? I know you all are decorating for a party."
"Yes but you don't know what it will look like. It needs to be perfect." She marched him to the otherside of the hallway and out onto a terrace.
"You know," he turned around, his earrings swishing with him. "It'll be perfect if I know what the decor will be or not."
An exasperated noise escaped Rayla. "But you humans are so particular about your birthdays and apparently you're not supposed to know about your party, which you already do, so you will not know how we've set it up."
"Rayla, listen it doesn't have to follow every rule in the book, it's fine." He reached for her hand, and comforted her for something they both knew had nothing to do with the decor of his birthday party.
"I just want it to be perfect." she murmured.
"And," he gave her hand a squeeze, "It will."
He wasn't supposed to be comforting her on his birthday, but Rayla selfishly let the words sooth her. She tucked a rogue piece of his hair behind his ear.
"I like the earrings, they're very you." She gently fingered them.
Callum blushed a little, looking away. "You think so?"
Rayla hummed a yes in response. "Now," she kissed his cheek quick as lighting and headed back the way she came, "Don't come back in!"
"What am I going to do until the evening?" He called after her.
"Find Ez and feed the ducks!"
the worst thing that i did
was what i did to you
taylor swift - betty
Callum didn't find Ezran, his little brother was lost somewhere. Helping with the party more likely. So he sat crossed with a haphazard pile of pebbles at his side to throw into the violently sky blue lake in front of him. Sun warmed his scalp and turned the strands of his hair molten. Air rushed by him.
The beautiful thing about Sunfire elf territory, at least Lux Aurea, was it's complete juxtaposition. The sun beat down on you, but the breeze softened the blow. Making it a pleasant summer-y kind of warm. But it seemed its monarchs were anything but. Rigid, smart, calculating.
Unless, of course, you got to know them. Then the elves were very much like the rest of their land, a juxtaposition. Janai gave hugs almost better than Amaya, and her smile was some likeness of the sun.
He was very pleased at having his not so surprise birthday party at the palace. Instead of back home at Katolis.
The place was crawling with feelings and memories like spindly spiders with sewing needle legs. Sharp, unnoticeable. Painful.
Callum picked up a flat pebble and watched it bounce on the surface of the water once, twice, three times before sinking. It was only about mid-afternoon, which meant he had to wait some hours before he could see everyone for the first time today.
He sighed and tossed another stone. His hand went up to his head and raked against his scalp leisurely. The soft inside of his palm brushed his earring and he smiled just a bit.
Rayla said they were very him. He didn't need outside praise to validate his fashion decisions, but it never hurt. Especially when it was from his girlfriend, who looked moonlight stunning in almost everything she wore. The Katolis colors looked just radiant against her cool color palette. She was too beautiful for her own good.
Callum tossed the last stone into the pond. It skipped five whole times and he was fully fed on satisfaction. He stood up and moved to the deliciously shaded part of the courtyard under a massive amber willow. The leaves were a dreamy orange, even in the peak of summer.
He plucked the grass behind him, resting his back on the bark of the tree. Callum basked, letting his mind be an avid explorer.
He thought back to the only argument he and Rayla had where he yelled at her. It was only a week and a half after she had come back, they were in his bedroom in the Katolis castle. And one word she refused to answer was looping in his head like a brainless dog running on a circle track. Over and over and over.
Why?
Why, why, why?
She was on his bed, and silent, her hand tucked between her thighs. Her hair freshly cut with blunt ends at her jaw. She looked young.
They hadn't spoken for most of the time since she'd gotten back, silent treatment, mostly on Callum's part. Now it looked like she was giving a taste of his own medicine.
The bitter taste of it gave him a new perspective, making his tendons loose and his eyes and hands soft. It wasn't a nice feeling, and he'd been serving it to her on a rusted copper platter for a week and a half straight.
"Are we going to ever talk about what happened?" Callum sat on the bed beside her, two feet apart or so.
Rayla took a breath through her nose. "Yes, at some point."
Callum plucked at the fraying threads of his fingerless glove. "'Some point' could be now."
The clock in his room ticked twenty times before Rayla shot up from the bed, wringing her hands. "Callum please—"
"Why? Just, just why?"
"Because I needed to protect you, I couldn't let you-"
"Couldn't let me what Rayla?" He curled his knees up to his chest. "Did you not trust me? Is that it?"
"No!" said Rayla, frantic. "I—I trust with my life Callum but—"
"But what?" He was getting frustrated, he stood up from the bed and paced to her. The soft patter of his socked feet almost as loud as the quiet roar of the ticking clock and their mingling breaths. Everything was heightened.
"But I couldn't lose you too! I knew if I left the decision up to you, you would go with me without hesitation."
Callum reached for her. For her hands and fingers rubbed his thumbs over her three knuckles.
"I didn't know if I could protect you, and I can't, I can't lose any more people I love."
"But Rayla I can't either, and when I woke up to see you gone, I did. Who would have protected you? What if—what if you died Rayla?" He gave her hands a little shake, trying to mask his cracking voice.
She turned her head away from him to the right, giving him a full view of her missing horn tip. The tip, when it was broken, off must have been only as long at two of his finger segments.
The quiet sentiment of her missing horn tip filled him with rage. He would make Viren pay for that.
Rayla shrugged him off, her hands shooting up to her arms and rubbing them. "It doesn't matter if I die! I can't lose you, Callum, and y—you would have died for me without hesitation."
"I would have." Callum confirmed.
She grew wide eyed with exasperation "See! But Callum, you have a brother, an aunt, a whole kingdom! You're important. You matter. I—I, It wouldn't matter if I died and—”
"You matter to me! And Ezran and Ethari and even Soren! We were devastated, don't think for a second that you don't matter."
Callum grew more frustrated, pacing the room with heavy steps. The ticking clock gone, only the sound of his burning, beating heart filled his ears. "You lied, and I thought I lost you forever. You left."
"I had too. You would have come and—"
"You can't make that decision for me!" He yelled. Rayla stopped her in her tracks, a deer with a damaged horn caught in the firelight, just as shocked at his tone as he was.
"If you think for a second I would have let you follow me blindly into that place and get yourself killed, then you don't know me at all." She curled her fists into balls, and did something that hurt more than yelling back.
She turned on her heel, and left.
cold is the night without you here
just your absence ringing in my ears
the oh hellos - cold is the night
Hours.
It was hours before she creeped back into the room.
Callum wasn't sleeping, he was laying on his side in his bed, his back facing her. The remnants of tears clung to his cheeks. His mind replaying and replaying how he yelled at her, his voice getting more distorted in his own memory. Until it was beastly.
But his heart was slowly burning blacker and blacker. More bitter and bitter.
"I know you're awake." She sat on the cushioned window seat. (He could tell by the sound.) Callum didn't bother turning around or confirming her statement. "I'm sorry I walked out."
Which time? He thought mirthlessly.
He exhaled through his nose. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."
"No you're fine."
"Rayla—"
"You're. Fine."
And they left it at that. Callum slammed his eyes shut before he could cry, and let whatever emotion he should let out build up in the back of his throat.
beside the salty water i hold you close
but you're far too beautiful to love me
the oh hellos - in memoriam
one single thread of
gold tied you to me
taylor swift - invisible string
It was a month and a half after that, of slowly more productive conversations and letting her back in. When she answered the question of 'Why?' ...kinda. She had just come back from following a lead with Soren on where Viren might be. The tip was ultimately fruitless and led nowhere.
She carried the weight of another wasted few days heavy in her steps. Rayla was tired, he saw it in her every move. She let her butterfly knives and boots fall to the floor without a care and collapsed onto the bed. Callum shifted a bit and she curled around him. Encasing him in the night chill she brought with her.
All wordless, but Callum knew it wasn't a day to press her.
Even though he wanted to hold her, and ask her about how the trip went and laugh with her and make her feel better. And do all the things they used to before she first left, He could sense that's not what she needed.
She needed to feel grounded.
And so did he.
Rayla's chilled nose was slowly warming up against the crook of his neck, she wrapped him like a peninsula to an ocean. Something vast and strong, giving him comfort when it was she who needed it most. Holding on with her arms around his waist like he was the only solid thing in the world, like he was her world.
And he—
And he was clinging on to her hand, clasped tight around his side, like it was a tether, a golden string, keeping him in orbit.
It was timeless. Rayla whispered against his shoulder so quiet and faint he might snap the sound like a brittle twig between his thumb and index finger.
"I was wrong, Callum, to leave. To lie. I thought I was doing the right thing but-" She grew even quieter if it was possible. "And I don't know how to tell you because-because I think I'm going to say the wrong thing. And you'll hate me even more."
She thought he was asleep. Strong emotion was building up in his chest, threatening an inferno to burn them both alive.
He couldn't let her agonize any more than he could lay with her arms around him in silence. "I know Rayla." He did his best to lace his fingers with hers near his stomach. "And-" his voice cracked, and he cried. "I never, ever hated you." He whispered.
Neither of them dared to move. Neither dared to break whatever glass was surrounding them. Neither dared to look at each other.
Callum felt Rayla's silent tears roll onto his shoulder.
give you the silence that only comes when
two people understand each other
taylor swift - peace
It was almost evening, and time for Callum to see his 'surprise' birthday party. Ezran had asked Rayla to help him and Ethari finished up the birthday cake.
As much as she loved Ethari, she knew what being in the kitchen with him was like. Runaan had been perfectly content to let Ethari's semi controlling tendencies take the lead since the assassin couldn't cook to save his life, but poor Ezran didn't know Ethari long enough to know about that side of him when it came to anything creative.
Having complete creative freedom and control when it came to anything melee weapons, and the same for the kitchen and cooking, Ethari was used to the feeling of doing something alone, and his way.
Rayla tucked away a snort away as Ethari instructed Ezran on the 'right' way to make the frosting for the cake.
Her uncle caught her look and laugh and immediately softened his approach, as if it was ever rough. It was akin to soaking sponge cake with cream.
"You're doing wonderfully Ezran." He took a step back and moved to take the cooled cakes out of the tins.
Rayla gave him a discreet thumbs up and Ethari sarcastically patted himself on the back. Maybe when she found Runaan and her parents Ethari would finally let them help him in the kitchen.
Rayla let the gentle clatter of the kitchen numb her senses. Taking a moment for the first time that day for rest.
Thinking of Runaan and her parents always disquieted her, filled her with a restless beast that needed to run to every corner of the world, to find Viren and Claudia and force them to free her family.
Like always, thinking of her current life predicament made her mind shift from a one thing to another a million times a minute.
Her brain latched onto the night after she accidentally confessed her feelings to Callum's shoulder. Where they cried silently until they fell asleep.
That morning Rayla got up early to train. Callum, on reflex, woke with her and she reassured him she was just training for most of the day with Soren. It shattered her heart even more, like grinding the glass of the pieces to dust, to see that worry in his eyes, the worry she put there.
The ache in him that she put there.
"I promise." She said, whatever her word was worth to him. Even after he tearfully said he never hated her, part of her didn't believe it. How could he not hate her?
She certainly did. Probably enough for both of them.
That night, they slept in the same bed again, this time it was Callum's turn to hug her. Her cheek was pressed to his cottony chest. His chin was resting on his head. The warmth of him seeping through his shirt and into her.
"Rayla, are you awake?" The whispered question rumbled from his ribcage, all the way through her.
She hummed a yes in response.
"I'm still angry with you I think." he said the words so calmly, so maturely, it set Rayla on edge a little. "And I don't think I'm ready to not be mad. You have to let me feel what I need to, okay?"
Rayla hummed another yes in response. Even though rationally she understood Callum, and agreed with him, some nasty part of her buried deep in the dust and shards of her chest wasn't so sure if she could make it much longer with him being angry at her.
And she hated herself even more for it.
Callum kissed the top of her head. And they'd fallen asleep.
"The cake is now frosted and ready to be devoured!" Ethari proclaimed proudly, shocking Rayla out of her trip from memory lane.
Ezran clapped excitedly. "I'll find Callum!"
there was happiness
because of you
taylor swift - happiness
Rayla's hands blindfolded Callum, he playfully tugged on her slender wrists.
"Can I look now?"
"No! Not yet!" Janai called to the left of him.
"Everyone's not in place yet." Rayla explained. "Keep your eyes closed or I'll use my moonshadow powers to put a curse on you." She let her hands slip from his eyes.
"You can't even do that." Still, he kept his eyes tightly shut.
"And who named you the master of moon magic?"
Callum smirked and changed the subject "I'm waiting."
There were some rustles and whispers, a loud bang and a loudly proclaimed curse before in unison the party of five yelled;
"Surprise!"
Callum opened his eyes to a wonderfully decorated room. Golden paper ring chains and flower garlands so vibrantly yellow and orange were gracing the windows and walls. Thin cream-colored paper streamers were hanging from the ceiling. And in the center was his family all around a wooden table with three presents.
Rayla stood in the middle, golden accessories glinting, cheeks flushed and smiling. Wearing his kingdoms colors, happy as the day was long, Callum didn't know any painting to compare her beauty to.
Emotion built in his throat. Wordlessly, he went over and hugged Amaya tightly first, she almost crushed his ribs. Janai tried her best to beat Amaya with the most bone breaking hug.
Callum went for the very nonchalant handshake with Soren, who promptly swept him up in his arms. He awkwardly patted him on the shoulder afterwards like he didn't know what he'd just done. "Happy birthday, or whatever." A pitiful cough ended that statement.
Ethari gave him a massive hug, and Callum did the same for Ezran and Rayla. He took a few steps back and looked at them all. He realized right then that all his family were amazing huggers, and that alone made him want to cry, and that they did all this, put in all this effort, for a 'surprise ' party that he knew about.
But when he opened his mouth, he was looking at Rayla.
"It's perfect."
Ethari beamed. "Wonderful!" He pulled a violin out of somewhere Callum couldn't comprehend and started to play. "Now let's dance!"
Janai clapped her hands together. "Yes, let's! And you all can see how it's really done."
Callum looked at them, half indignant. "What about presents?"
Rayla rolled her eyes fondly and pulled on his wrist. "After dancing dummy."
As they danced, her laughter made him bold. His hand gathered at the small of her back and pulled her close every chance he got. He loved making her blush. They all danced until their toes were sore and their stomach thoroughly empty.
"Hurry and open your presents so we can eat the cake." Soren ordered.
Callum smiled softly in response, "Alright."
They all sat on the carpet. Janai rested against the couch,with her hair out of it's protective locks, floofed around her head in an afro, her ankles tucked underneath her, she rested her head on Amaya's shoulder. Amaya for her part, drew lazy circles on the Lux Aurea Queen's thigh. Affection in every pass and swirl of her fingers.
Ezran sat in Soren's lap on the cushioning sofa, even though he was getting too big for that. Soren didn't seem to mind, he just casually rested his chin on the cornrows of the young prince's head. Rayla was sitting next to them, her knees tucked to her chin. Bob haircut tucked behind her ears. Ethari next to her lounging on the armrest part of the sofa.
Callum was on the floor in front of them all, he reached for the biggest present first, wrapped expertly in brown paper with a silk ribbon tie. When he tore the paper and discarded it, he saw the gift. Pots of paint the shape of honey bottles. Like they were recycled. He popped the lip of one, and was shocked to see the most beautiful blue creamy paint.
Like it was full saturation. The purest, brightest blue he'd ever laid eyes on.
"It's homemade gouache paint." Ethari said. "Made with the most vibrant flowers in Xadia."
Callum sealed the jar of paint and set it down. "They're amazing Ethari."
"Soren helped me make them."
Soren's face split in a cocky grin. "I did all the flower picking and grinding."
"Thank you, I love them."
The next gift was smaller, and when he opened it he was faced with three orange rubies. All strung with a thick golden thread.
"Fire rubies." Janai explained. "They can keep even the biggest giant warm in the coldest winter, or if you smash them and make them into a fine power, they grant you a part of Sunfire magic."
"Don't smash them Callum." Amaya signed. "It took forever to get even three of them, and Janai is the Queen."
Callum laughed and assured his aunt that he didn't plan on breaking them. And thanked Janai profusely.
The last gift was the smallest of all, a tiny box.
He unwrapped it, and everyone went silent, a ring box.
Soren, in typical Soren fashion, ruined the moment. "Who's proposing to you?" Rayla slapped his arm.
"Just open it Callum." She said, and so he did.
What was inside made his tear up. A ring, four delicate wires of pure gold and warm toned silver were woven together in a traditional moonshadow lattice work. In the middle was the prettiest, smallest moon opal Callum had ever seen.
It was the same type of opal Ethari had given Runaan.
"Ethari helped me make it." Raya said tentatively. "The opal is-"
"I know, I know." And Callum let himself cry. Rayla shuffled over to him and grabbed the ring. She cupped his hand in hers and slid the ring on his middle finger. A perfect fit.
She gently rubbed his fingers and gazed at him.
"How anticlimactic would it have been if it didn't fit?" This time it was Ezran's turn to slap Soren's arm.
i think i might push my luck with you
does another night feel alright to you?
the chainsmokers - push my luck
After many more hearty rounds of dancing and cake, Callum's family finally all went to bed, leaving Rayla and him alone to have one last dance by themselves before they went up to his room together.
The pair giggled into his bedroom; Her shutting the door with her boot, him pulling her close, hand cradling the small of her back.
Her hands were on his collarbone and sliding up to the slope of his shoulders, the column of his neck. He pushed them both gently up against the hip-length dresser. She smiled and passed her lips over his in quick, chaste grabs.
His jewel eyes and lips chased her smiling ones. She pulled away from his lips in teasing motions before she finally let him kiss her and kiss her and kiss her.
He pulled her closer, and captured her mouth more fully.
It was a longer kiss, and she felt it with more depth.
Like a flash her thoughts turned from bright to grim. Was he sure about what he was doing? She was sure, definitely sure, she liked it a lot actually, but did he? She saw him drink that glass of sunburst wine after presents, maybe that was influencing him.
Even before her journey alone, they hadn't done anything more than kiss, there didn't seem to be enough time for make outs let alone further exploration, if they were even ready for that.
Rayla pushed quietly against his chest and broke the kiss. They were still close, if they leaned an inch forward, their foreheads would bonk together, touch.
"What is it? Did I do something wrong?" Callum whispered against her cheek. "If you want to stop-"
"No it's not that, but- everything and just-well- are you sure you want to-"
His lips quirked up, and were on hers in a flash, he pulled her closer still, both his hands canvassing her waist.
He pressed his forehead against hers, and said after he'd broken away. "I'm sure, more sure of this than of a lot of things Rayla. But if you're not sure then-"
She kissed his nose. "I'm sure, very sure."
She hopped up on the dresser and Callum slotted himself between her legs. The clatter of an empty golden perfume tray to the floor had them both laughing.
He dutifully moved to pick it and set it to rest on the side of the dresser. When he was back, her knees bracketed his hips, her forearms on his shoulders, hands knotted by the nape of his neck, he brushed her lips with his own over and over-
and over
Varnishing the cracks of her heart with gold, painting them to be beautiful. The lacquer holding the pieces and shards of her heart now fully hardened.
At points, her happiness and heart filled with cracks and lines of gold made it hard to kiss him with all the smiling.