Chapter Text
Goosebumps prickled along Rayla’s arm, but she’d long ago decided that the comfort of Callum’s warm hand in hers was absolutely worth the persistent chill of the cold, stone ground against her skin.
When she’d reached above her head after everyone had settled in for the night, she’d found that he’d been reaching out for her too, and their hands hadn’t left each other’s since. At first, they’d kept their fingers tightly locked together, urgent and tense, but after a little while, their grasps had slackened into lazy, but still unyielding, contact.
Soon after, he'd started silently tracing different patterns against her palm while she stared up at the ceiling of the Storm Spire, her head buzzing about the army marching towards them.
Callum started with letters, and once he reached the end of the human alphabet, he strung them together into words. He spelled her name first, which pulled her attention back to him and away from a scene running through her head in which Ezran didn’t make his way back to them in time.
She focused on Callum’s touch through her name, then his, then Zym’s, before he started spelling out Ezran’s name and her thoughts drifted back to the scenario he’d distracted her from in the first place.
At some point, he moved on to tracing runes against her hand, but she’d been too wrapped up in running through other possibilities of what could go wrong tomorrow to notice. When she did notice the change, it had pulled her out of visualizing the something else that Viren had apparently turned the human troops under his command into, and her mind latched on, instead—thankfully—to Callum as he silently and repeatedly drew a fulminus rune on her palm.
She found herself suddenly very relieved that he had his magic, knowing that she couldn’t count on being at his side tomorrow, and caught his thumb with her fingers, trapping it still against her palm for a moment.
Rayla loosened her grip, and, after a while, Callum’s thumb switched to drawing random shapes and patterns in her hand. When his touch faded into the background again, her ruminating progressed to silent seething about Viren, her head following down a dark, winding path that started with her parents and ended with the impending battle currently breathing down their necks.
Feeling Callum trace the third heart-shape in a row against her hand caught her attention again, though. This time, he wrote their initials at the center of it.
Her lip twitched into a weak, melancholy smile. There were a few bits of light in all that darkness at least, and maybe…
Maybe some peace would come of all this, too...if they actually managed to pull this off.
She tried closing her eyes.
Maybe Callum had run out of ideas or maybe he was just getting drowsier, but the next pattern he started to trace was less creative, his thumb simply passing repeatedly across the calluses at the base of her fingers. His touch was a little rougher along that path, almost as if he was trying to make sure she could feel his fingers against the coarse skin there. She couldn’t help but think that there was a note of anxiety to match her own in this heavier touch.
Callum’s thumb changed its rhythm again, though, after a few minutes, and his touch was feather-light now along the new path he’d chosen.
If she’d actually been anywhere near sleep she might’ve pestered him about how this new pattern—his thumb dragging from the base of her middle finger, down across her palm to her wrist, and then back up—tickled. But, if the past hour...hours?...had been any indication, she was definitely not going to be sleeping any time soon anyway and the little ripple of delight that tingled from her hand all the way up her arm from his touch was such a nice contrast to all that worry.
Plus, as much as she knew that he should be sleeping too, it was awfully nice to know that he was here with her. That she wasn’t laying there—staring at the ceiling, anxious heartbeat pumping restlessly in her ears—alone.
That was a little selfish, she realized, but it wasn’t like she was keeping him awake. She closed her fingers around his thumb to let him know she was still here with him, too.
He sighed and squeezed back.
“What are you thinking about?” Even though he’d whispered the words, they still seemed so loud, his voice bouncing off the ceiling and then back down to her.
It would’ve been a lot easier to whisper next to each other, but Callum had shifted their bedrolls so that they laid end-to-end instead of side-by-side just before everyone had laid down earlier. She’d raised a questioning eyebrow but he’d just nodded in his aunt’s direction, a little touch of color glowing on his cheeks.
That was fair. They’d learned last night that they did have a tendency to...drift...in their sleep, now that they were a thing.
She let go of his hand to flip to her belly, hoping to muffle the rest of their conversation a little, and he did the same, their chins resting on their crossed arms now as they looked across to each other.
“You first,” she said as she settled, not quite sure where to even start with the spiraling that was keeping her up. Callum nodded, that familiar sympathetic softness layering overtop of the worry and exhaustion in his eyes. She wondered if she looked that tired too.
“Trying to distract myself,” he said, with a shrug.
“And how’s that going for you?” She tried to push down the way she—nonsensically—wanted to smile about commiserating with him, but a single corner of her mouth pulled upward into a tiny smirk anyway. He snorted in response and she let the grin break-out more fully.
Yeah, this was much better than suffering in silence. She’d much rather be miserable with Callum than with anyone else—herself included.
“Poorly,” he answered, laughing.
“Yeah,” she sighed in agreement, even though she was pretty sure that enjoying Callum holding her hand didn’t count as distracting herself ...that was just Callum distracting her . Maybe he’d do it some more if she asked? “Tell me about your distractions. Mine are all depressing.”
“Mine aren’t great either,” he chuckled. He thought for a moment, then pushed up on his elbows and reached for her hand again. She copied him, weaving their fingers together. “The best one is probably...thinking about being here, just like this, again tomorrow night.” His grip tightened to emphasize—as if she didn’t know—what he meant by just like this and then he watched his thumb brush across her knuckles. Most of the gloom had disappeared when he looked back up at her. “Then, you know, getting to live happily ever after.”
He shrugged again, the words falling off his tongue like they’d been rehearsed, and she squinted. That clearly meant more than just being happy forever.
“Happily ever after?” Rayla tilted her head to the side, wondering why the odd phrase came so naturally to him.
“Yeah. Like in fairy tales?” he asked, matching her inquisitive posture as he rattled off what she could only assume were more obscure human sayings. “‘Once upon a time,’ and all that?” His attempt at an explanation was lost on her. She shook her head.
“I...don’t think we have those in Xadia,” she explained, “or at least Moonshadow elves don’t.”
“Huh.” He withdrew his fingers from hers to lay his hand against his chin instead, tapping there as he thought. “I guess that kind of makes sense.” Callum’s eyes wandered away from hers, looking around the way they tended to when he was trying to reason his way around some newfound understanding. “You probably don’t really need stories about magic if it’s just everywhere , all the time.”
Ah. That explains it. Of course her dorky, sweet mage would be enamored with stories about magic ...even if they were human stories and, therefore, probably woefully inaccurate. Her smile slanted, crooked and uneven, in her attempt to mask her genuine amusement with curiosity.
“They’re stories about magic?” she asked, hoping he had more to gush about on the subject. That was—honestly—the best distraction she could hope for. He brightened and she grinned back some more.
“Mmhmm, among other things” he started, before starting to count off some themes on his fingers, “good and evil, adventure, love…”
He must not have expected her steady gaze because when he looked up, his list having fizzled out, his expression quickly shifted from dreamy to panicked . The tiny little smile and the haze over his green eyes stayed, but his eyebrows popped up and his cheeks went pink...he didn’t look away, though. It was almost like he was...asking a question?
...to which, the answer was, emphatically, yes .
She scooted closer and took the hand he’d been counting on, keeping her eyes fixed on his as she brought his fingers to her lips. “Go on,” she said with a nod.
Callum smiled again—fully and brightly this time—before fixing her with a half-lidded stare and stroking the back of her hand, understanding now—apparently—that they were flirting. He continued.
“Cast of characters usually includes fair maidens”—the wink was a little much, maybe—“talking animals, dragons, princes…” His eyebrows wiggled dramatically. “Elves…” Callum pulled her fingers to his lips, his gaze now all affection and humor, and she felt warmth pool in her cheeks.
“Sounds like maybe you’re living one of these stories now, huh, mage?” she teased, and he traded the affected flirtation for an easier smile.
“Maybe,” he shrugged again, squeezing the hand still in his. “We’ll see how tomorrow goes for that whole happily-ever-after bit.”
In her opinion, that had killed the mood. The alternative to happily ever after was…bad. Bad for him, bad for her, bad for them. Bad.
Callum was still looking at her with such hope, though.
She shook off the urge to slip back into the gloom.
“So, these are like...nice bedtime stories?” she continued instead. He let out a single chuckle and shook his head slightly.
“Not always. Some of them can get a little gruesome, actually. But the most important thing is that, at the end of the story, everything turns out okay. And then…”
“And then...what?” She smiled and cocked her head to the side again, pretty sure she knew the answer. And then they live happily ever after…
Like they would, she silently resolved, when everything turned out okay tomorrow.
“They go home, and—”
She deflated. Home.
Panic instantly rushed back across Callum’s face, but there was no blush or slight smile that came with this panic. He hastily revised his definition of happily ever after .
“—and they...live their lives. Happily ever after.”
He grappled for her hand again, pressing it between both of his and kissing her fingertips, silently begging for her forgiveness as he looked up at her, clearly cursing himself for having lodged his foot so firmly in his mouth.
He’d...he’d been telling her his happily-ever-after. She...couldn’t really blame him for that.
That wasn’t a happily-ever-after that she could have, though...not without a home to go to.
He knew that. And he was sorry. Clearly. For that, for her...for what he’d just said, too.
“It’s okay,” she breathed. Callum shut his eyes in what she could only imagine was relief and exhaled against her hand, pressing his lips against her over and over still, and she swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat. There was enough already for them to be upset over.
She coughed to clear the tremor from her voice. “So...let me get this straight,” she continued, forcing a smile that Callum was clearly surprised to see when he opened his eyes again. “You don’t believe in irony —that’s just something that happens in stories—but happily ever after , you’re fine with?””
“I might be a little biased,” he admitted, his smile much more reserved now. “Irony usually makes bad things happen, but happily ever after...that’s supposed to be all good things.” He blinked down at their joined hands, watching his thumb continue to run along hers, apologizing still with his touch. “I don’t know...it’s probably dumb to think that everything will just suddenly be perfect, but it’s nice to think that maybe it could be, you know?”
“That’s not dumb,” she reassured him, leaning forward to catch his eye and squeezing his hand back. “Far-fetched, maybe”—more like impossible, especially for her, she thought—“but not dumb.” He offered her a weak smile that she imagined was probably just as dim as her own.
“What kind of good things?” she asked, hoping maybe he’d brighten with getting to tell her about everything he wanted. He stayed solemn, though.
“That’s...that’s kind of up to you,” he said, his eyes cutting from the hand he still held in his to meet her gaze. Rayla wanted to wriggle away from the intensity when Callum's eyes locked onto hers, so very clearly asking her what it was that she wanted. She blinked away, and sputtered a little as she responded.
“Why is it up to me?” she questioned, continuing to avert her gaze out of hesitation in letting him base the good things he wanted off of her. His fingers under her chin startled her with their gentle but firm pull as he turned her eyes back to his.
“I want those good things with you, Rayla,” he insisted, his hand drifting away from her chin and across her cheek. He cradled her face in his palm and Rayla’s mouth fell open, finding herself mesmerized by that adoring and unwavering stare she’d tried to avoid.
She sucked in a quick breath, remembering their commitment from earlier. Together. That’s how they decided these things now.
“It’s up to us, then,” she clarified. “Our happily ever after.”
He beamed back at her, his thumb softly brushing over her cheek.
“Yeah,” he nodded, grinning now, his fingers pushing back, across her jaw and into her hair as he inched closer. “Up to us.”
He pressed his lips to hers and her stomach flipped at all of the feeling that was wrapped up in it. All of his worry, and apologizing, and hope...all wrapped up in one warm, soft, little kiss.
“Do we have to decide now, though, Callum?” she whispered, even quieter than before, when his lips left hers. His fingertips continued to gently caress just behind her ear, pressing lightly along her scalp. “Because I’m not sure what I want yet,”—well...there was one thing she was sure of—“besides the obvious, of course.”
“What’s the obvious?” His hand dropped away and he inched back to search her face when he asked the question, as sincere as ever.
“You, dummy,” she chuckled, bouncing closer again to place another quick kiss on his lips. Not nearly as heartfelt as his had been. Heartfelt was his specialty after all. She couldn’t bring herself to pull all the way back though, and instead she stayed close, breathing his air for a moment while she repeated her uncertainty. His forehead knocked against hers. “I’m...I’m not sure besides that, though.” She found his hand again. “Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay,” he said, locking their fingers together once more. “Just...tell me when you know. Then we can talk about it. Alright?” His lips met the corner of her mouth.
“Alright,” she nodded, her nose brushing alongside his. He nuzzled back before they both retreated to their pillows, hands still joined in the space between them.
He watched her thoughtfully for a moment before asking: “Do you want to tell me what’s keeping you up?”
She winced and shook her head.
“Not really,” she answered. The soft sympathy was back again, but now it was filtered through what she could only describe as pleading. “Come on, Callum...we did so many feelings today.” He didn’t seem to quite accept that response, so she shrugged and continued. “Plus...you know most of it already. All of it, really.”
He sighed. “Fine, but…” Callum glanced around the room with a conspiratorial smile, verifying that their whispering hadn’t woken anyone up. “I’m coming over there.”
Dragging the edge of his bedroll by its corner, he scooted around to lay next to her. Rayla moved closer than she had the night before, pulling his arm over her waist for the hug that she hoped might actually let her sleep. He kissed her forehead when they whispered another round of good-nights.
Her downward spiral tried to begin again, but Callum’s breath, warm against her cheek, steadied her. She let her attention drift in the opposite direction instead, trailing her touch against his cheek and imagining all the ways she might slot perfectly into whatever it was that their happily ever after might be.