Chapter Text
He used to sit for hours, after curfew, on balconies and porches, by windows and the steps of open doors. Waiting to see her appear from the darkness the way the moon does. Because she was the moon, and maybe the night sky and all of the little cosmic rays in the stars. Just like she was a shadow of an eclipse and the reflection of the sun on the moon's surface.
He'd sit and wait, would hope and pray to the stars– that maybe she'd show up. Give him her signature grin, tell him he's a fool for staying up late in the dark where dangers can lerk more easily. Maybe hoist him over her shoulder and take him to bed, tuck him in and send him off to dreamland with a goodnight kiss.
But no matter how long he prayed and waited she never showed up. He refused to move he refused to accept she was gone just like that, he refused— refused refused refused
He just wanted her back.
He spent months like that, losing sleep, until Soren had enough and said, “Callum, I'm sorry but you have to get it together.” Pushed him up and helped him to bed. The place that became his second waiting–point. Laying in bed hoping she'd be kind enough to sneak back through his window, tell him she couldn't be alone without him. Apologize, she'd say “I'm sorry Callum. I'm sorry.”
And when waiting in bed gave him a headache and he couldn't even bother to clean up. Even Ezran had enough of his whining (at least that's what Callum thought anyway). When he came to, with his best efforts, coax him out of bed and into a bath.
And that's when Callum finally got a good look in the mirror and realized how terrible he looked. Grown out hair, eye bags, paler than ever, and his face was so much thinner, bonier.
That's when he took a dagger to his head and gave himself the choppiest haircut. If Rayla were there she'd be watching him from the doorway, leaned up against it watching him fuck up his hair and laugh when he'd finally notice her looming presence.
Head tilting back, smile so wide, laughing so much that little tears form in her eyes.
When he was done he turned and looked towards the doorway, only to find an empty spot.
Cause she was gone, and he was starting to think she really wasn't coming back.
For a while longer, just a little longer, he kept sitting in his waiting–point. Roaming the halls of the castle, peering through windows in hope of seeing the little speck of moon he called Rayla.
Till eventually, he stopped.
Stopped waiting, watching out the windows, stopped expecting to see her off in the distance.
He could tell when people sighed in relief he was getting better— if becoming numb to that little ugly pain in his chest was— better.
But now he was again in one of his waiting places watching Rayla teach Ezran a dance she showed him two years ago. When they were drunk on new love and selfishness. When he'd wake up to a restless feeling of wanting to take her face in his hands and call her the world.
Now he watched her take Ezrans arm and lift it out. While instructing him where to place his feet, he watched when Rayla said “It's easy, just do what I do . ” Only to have Ezran stumble over his feet, just like he had two years ago when he watched Rayla dance and thought — she's just so..
He hears her laughter, “It's funny– Callum did just what you did the first time he tried it.”
And Ezran looks at him for confirmation, and Callum rolls his eyes and smiles a little while nodding yes.
Yes, I was a fool back then too..
He watched them continue dancing, watched Rayla swaying and twirling and saw the little strands of silver hair fall out of her braid and wondered how much longer her hair had gotten. Did it reach past her shoulders? To her waist? Did she like it longer? She looked so different, so much more grown, even her eyes looked older, maybe it was the eye bags. And then he wondered, did she spend nights awake missing him too?
Eventually Ezran sat next to Callum and Rayla next to Ezran, and he talked to her about many things. He was a little jealous that Ezran found it so easy to talk to her after two years. Then again, Ezran is a child still.
He kept watching, until Ezran got sleepy and dozed off while leaning against Rayla.
They stayed so still for a while.
Ezrans head in her lap and she whispered little hums of a song into his ear while brushing his hair back. Tucking loose strands behind his ear.
“It's a little sad, how often does he get to be a little boy? He's so grown up now, but he's still the small Ezran I remember.”
Callum stayed quiet for a minute,
“He doesn't get a lot of days off, I try to lighten his load when I can.”
Ezran snores, and Rayla giggles. And for a moment that little fluttering feeling he had for her two years ago came back, until he remembered the anger sitting at the bottom of his stomach like hot coals and—
She's looking at him, her eyes half lidded in a sleepy gaze, he guesses. Truly he doesn't know what her gestures and mannerisms mean anymore. Maybe she's starting to get sleepy too.
He looks at her, really looks at her.
Her silver hair.
Her tear shaped elven markings.
Her lilac eyes.
Everything about her.
He'd give anything to reach out to her, hold her hands, trace his thumb along those markings on her cheeks. Undo the tie holding her hair up so he could see how long it's grown. And he did– really did, pulling her into his arms and shushing her with a kiss. Because for so long he dreamt of reuniting and just whispering in her ear how much she meant to him. Repeat to her, stay– please stay.
“Callum?”
Her voice snaps him out of his daydream, and he realizes he's done none of that, he's said nothing and done nothing but stare, because she was just so nice to look at.
She's giving him a look, “You okay?”
No, not even one bit.
It's funny, she used to make him feel okay, when he wasn't. But things change, except for that consistent anger in the forms of hot coals in his stomach. Which were rising to his throat, he wanted to spit them out, maybe at her maybe at the world. He didn't know anymore, he didn't know anything about her anymore.
He wanted things between them like before, when they could sit drunk on a young love and empty promises of togetherness.
“Callum?”
She says again, but he says nothing. Just scoots closer to her and rests his head on her shoulder.
Not wanting to think.
“Don't say anything..” He tells her, and that's all he can get out of his mouth before his eyes close and he pretends he's fourteen again, and she's fourteen again and Ezran isn't king and they're still back then, traveling to Xadia.
He can feel her lean into him and rest her head on his. They stay that way till he falls asleep, so he didn't hear when she said to him in her softest voice, “I'm sorry Callum. I'm sorry.”