Work Text:
As Callum slowly emerges from his slumber, he squints his eyes open and murmurs groggily, "Did I just smell cinnamon?"
He sits up in his single bed back in Katolis, feeling goosebumps crawl up his spine as the cold night air hits his neck.
That's definitely cinnamon…He thinks
He crawls out of bed, placing his feet in his fluffy slippers, and slowly reaches for the windowsill to close the open window. Now that the cold air is no longer filling his small bedroom, he feels slightly warmer.
As he stands in his room, lost in a sleepy daze, he quickly wonders how late it is. His gaze shifts towards the window, where the moon stands tall in the sky, illuminating the darkness outside.
It's got to be at least like 2 a.m.
His mind wanders to Rayla, who is sleeping next door in his little brother's old room.
Since Ezran left to find Dominia Profundus with Soren, it has been only Rayla and him in the castle. Ez is expected to get back in a few days, which gives him and Rayla plenty of time to work out their complicated relationship. Right?
He sighs.
He and Rayla were so close, so attached, yet, somehow, their relationship seemed tainted by the last two years. Despite the passing of time and the changes that had taken place in their lives, he still held a deep and abiding love for her.
He could sense that Rayla felt the same way, but he also knew that she was hesitant. Perhaps she, too, was struggling with her emotions, unsure about how to proceed and fearful of messing something up again.
Maybe he should check on her? Make sure he didn't wake her up or something. Yeah.
He tiptoes over to the thick wooden door parallel to his bed. As he begins reaching for the metal door handle, he stops. He, instead, begins crouching down and peeks through the little doggy door cut into the door.
He glimpses through the small door, trying to find a clue of Rayla's presence through the dark bedroom. Not being able to see a thing, he stands up and wanders to his bedside table. With a swift motion, he reaches for a matchstick with a maroon tip and proceeds to ignite a candlestick, illuminating the surrounding space with a warm, flickering glow.
Trying again, he leans down and peeks the candle through the door, his head following behind.
His eyes scan the small bedroom, but as he lands on Rayla's bed, she's nowhere to be found.
“Rayla?” he whispers.
No response.
Emerging from the confined space of the doggy door, he straightens up and reaches for the door handle.
He enters the tiny bedroom, holding his candlestick out to see.
No sign of her.
Shit.
Where could she have gone? She wouldn't have left again. She wouldn't have…
Suddenly, he locks his eyes on her moon shadow uniform. It is resting on a nearby table, folded neatly.
He exhales a sigh of relief. She would never leave without her uniform.
But that still doesn't explain where she wandered off to this late at night…
Suddenly, the recurring smell of cinnamon fills the room.
Where is that smell coming from this late at night?
Curious, he walks to the door leading out to the grand hallway and opens it. He peeks out slowly, looking left, then right.
The guards don't usually patrol the sleeping quarters this late at night.
Callum walks out, still wearing his red matching pj set, and begins walking through the stone hallways. He does this often. Usually, he's either up late from working in the High Mage office or craving a midnight snack. Either way, he’s an expert at navigating the halls this late at night.
As he wanders through the hallway, his senses are drawn in once more by the lingering aroma of cinnamon. He makes a swift right turn and continues onward, his steps softly cushioned by the plush carpet beneath him. The moon streams in through the windows, casting a gentle glow upon his surroundings.
After a few moments of walking, he finally arrives at the entrance to the dining hall. He slowly attempts to open the massive wooden doors, hoping to avoid making any noise. However, despite his efforts, the doors refuse to budge silently and creak loudly as he pushes them open.
He cringes, hoping he didn't wake anyone.
Craving to know where the cinnamon aroma is coming from, he walks through the dining hall and begins toward the kitchen.
Suddenly, as he reaches the door, he hears a quiet hum coming from inside. It's subtle, but he immediately identifies it as Rayla.
He stands still momentarily, admiring the soft and peaceful tune she is humming.
Perhaps it would be best for him to retreat, return to his bed, and allow her some space. However, the alluring aroma of cinnamon is simply too good to ignore, and he cannot imagine himself resting his eyes until he discovers the source.
He opens the already-cracked door and steps in.
As he enters the room, he catches a glimpse of her standing at the counter, her back facing him, and her attention focused on the bowl in front of her.
She’s wearing a red matching pj set, almost identical to his, with her hair tied up loosely. As she stirs the bowl, she looks concentrated on whatever delicious treat she's mixing up.
“Ray, it's nearly three in the morning. What are you doing up?”
She quickly turns around, clearly startled by his sudden presence. She fumbles and drops the whisk layered in thick berries as she turns.
“Damn it.” she curses as she leans down to pick up the whisk. She looks up, meeting her eyes with his.
“Oh, hey, Callum. Sorry, did I wake you?”
“No, not at all. I was just hungry,” he quickly says as he replies.
Suddenly, his eyes linger to the bowl she has been stirring.
“What are you making?” He asks eagerly.
“Oh, I was trying to make moonberry cinnamon muffins, but I can't find the sugar….” She bites her lip as she starts rummaging through the various cabinets.
Callum makes his way towards the cabinets situated near the oven. With a firm grip, he pulls open the bottom shelf and retrieves a rather hefty 25 lb bag of sugar. He walks back over and places the bag down on the counter adjacent to the bowl.
As she turns, her eyes settle on the sight of the bag before her, and a clear sense of relief washes over her.
“Ah, Thank you! You have no idea how long I've been scouring this room for that,” she says happily.
He laughs, “No problem.”
He ponders his following words momentarily, “Could I help..?”
She smiles at him, “Yeah, can you grab me another bowl?”
“Sure,” he says satisfied.
With a focused gaze, she begins to gently stir the contents of the bowl again, ensuring that each ingredient is perfectly blended together.
He remains still, his body motionless as his eyes lock onto her form. His breath catches in his chest as he takes in every detail, from how her hair is loosely tied, to the curve of her waist.
He stares, watching her arm move in repeated circles as she mixes, awestruck just by her presence.
Suddenly, she senses Callum's eyes on her, and as she slowly turns, she sees him staring directly at her.
“The bowl..?” she says as she snickers.
“Oh, uh, yeah. The bowl. Got it!” he replies, trying to cover up his obvious embarrassment.
He turns and reaches for a nearby cabinet full of varied types of kitchenware. He reaches up and grabs a medium-sized wooden bowl resting on the top shelf and brings it over to the area where Rayla has been working.
He would have never guessed she had a hidden passion for baking, but god, does it make sense.
He remembers their journey to Xadia and how she wouldn't stop daydreaming about having just a bite of a moonberry surprise. The way she always had moonberries with her and would constantly search for more by peeking in and out of berry bushes, even though it left her hands covered in thorns. Since then, during her days away, he had always made sure to keep the kitchen stocked with them. He even had Barius scour his recipe books for moon berry-related treats, but they never tasted quite right.
He was consumed with the desire to remember her image in his mind's eye. He resorted to sketching her constantly, poring over every detail in the Moodshadow elves section in the library, and feeling her absence keenly each day. Each action he took was filled with a longing and yearning for her.
Seeing her here now, however, he feels an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Despite all that has happened, she's safe.
They're together again.
“Thanks! I've made the berry topping, but I still need to make the batter for the muffins..” she says to him as she continues to stir.
“I can get started on that. Where is the recipe?”
“Recipe..?”
“Yeah, the recipe. Like the list of ingredients and stuff..?”
“Oh! Yeah, I don't really use those,” she says unfazed.
“Then how do you make it?” He says in a confused tone.
“I just eyeball it. It's the best technique. I promise you it has never failed me.”
He looks unconvinced.
“Trust me, I'm an expert,” she says.
“Okay..whatever you say!” he says, laughing.
He begins working on the batter, sprinkling in a touch of cinnamon, still trying his best to remember the various ingredients needed.
“So…what are you doing up right now anyway?” she says, curious.
“Oh, I don't really know, honestly. Think I was just hungry.” he replies.
“Now that I understand,” she says, laughing as she begins pouring a cup of sugar into Callum's bowl.
“Why are you up?” Callum asks.
“I'm an insomniac. This is just normal,” she says.
“That makes sense. You are always the one volunteering to patrol every night,” he replies.
“Yeah, I never really had it bad before, well, everything.” she continues, “I don't think I've had a full night's sleep in like two years.”
“Dang, we gotta fix that,” he says, looking up at her.
“Tell me about it.”
It pained Callum to think each night Rayla hadn't been able to sleep. He knew all too well the feeling, having experienced his own share of restless nights plagued by nightmares. It wasn't insomnia, per se, but rather a constant state of unease that seemed to linger even after he'd woken up.
The memories of being under Aavavos's control were particularly distressing, and he constantly found himself waking up in a cold sweat, heart racing, gasping for breath.
But nothing was quite as harrowing as the image of Rayla lying motionless at the bottom of the storm spire, her lifeless eyes staring blankly up at the sky.
He couldn't shake these haunting visions even after two years, and he knew that Rayla was struggling with similar demons of her own.
“I get it.” he continues carefully, “The restless nights and unsettling nightmares. Happens to me most nights, too.”
Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, she halts her diligent work, letting out a deep breath as she rests her hands on the countertop and gazes downwards.
“I just can't shake it. Every night. I'm haunted by him, my parents, Runnan…” she sighs shakily,
“I know,” he says as he takes his hand to touch her shoulder.
She gives him a gentle smile.
In an effort to shift the mood of the conversation, Rayla, in a sudden motion, flicks moonberry juice onto his nose.
“Wha- Rayla, after all these years, still so immature?” he says as he wipes the jelly off.
“Augh, excuse me, mister, I sleep with my childhood blankie every night.” she teased.
“I told you that in confidence,” he stated.
“Sure, mage.” she laughed.
Whenever the word "mage" reaches his ears, his heart flutters in a way he cannot explain. Her every word still holds a powerful grip over him, leaving him flushed just by her mere gaze.
What Callum is doing right now, making muffins with his love at 3 a.m., he has no idea. But at this moment, he wouldn't have it any other way.
Although Rayla had intended to find solace alone in the kitchen at this late hour, she was grateful for Callum's company.
Somehow, he's just able to see right through her. See past the carefully constructed walls, see through her “I'm fine”s. She can't hide around him, not like she can with others, at least.
Upon returning, she prepared herself for the worst. She expected to be rejected and scorned for the pain she had caused to others, and unfortunately, some of those became a reality.
However, the moment she saw Ezran gaze her way, she expected him to criticize her for her mistakes and absence. Yet, to her surprise, he welcomed her with warmth and understanding despite all she had done.
Callum, understandably, was the most impacted by her actions, and she could feel his disappointment and frustration from the moment she saw him for the first time.
It was a fragile situation, to say the least.
Her intention was never to abandon him, leave him stranded, or make him feel weak for departing without him. It was never any of those things.
In reality, it was all her.
She was afraid of what her own superstitions would cause, what dangers he would be put in because of her. What she wouldn't be able to protect him from.
The thought of being unable to shield him from Viren and him dying at her hands…. was unbearable.
So she left.
Left Callum, Katolis, Ezran, Soren, her family.
She left them behind, alone. All because she craved one thing - vengeance.
She hopes Callum understands this, but she knows, deep down, she never should have left. She had a home, a family, and a mage who was willing to jump off a cliff for her. What more did she need? Really?
Rayla is aware that calling Katolis "home" may not be the wisest choice. After all, she had abandoned it without earning the privilege of returning. Yet, her longing to visit the castle remained ever so strong, as there was no other place where she belonged, nobody else she belonged to.
Yet, she became consumed.
Consumed by her own self-doubt and inner demons, the two things that somehow continued to swallow her, leaving her feeling helpless and defeated.
She couldn't fight that battle by herself even if she tried.
After a few minutes of more subtle chatting, the muffin batter is finally mixed.
“Did you prep the oven?” he asks.
“Oh yeah, it should be heated up by now,” she replies.
“Great,” he says as he smiles, reaching for the muffin pan.
He wants each serving to be perfect as he pours the batter into the pan. Rayla watches him intently, admiring his attention to detail.
“So, what's up with the craving for moonberry cinnamon muffins this late?” he asks, wondering.
“I dunno, I think I just kinda wanted to distract myself.” she continues as she takes the pan over to the prepped oven, “These past couple weeks, I haven't really had many moments like this, just to sit back and do something as simple as baking muffins.”
He laughs, “I've felt the same. We have been working so hard at this “fallen star” thing that I feel like we haven't had much time just to be.”
“Exactly,” she ponders for a moment, then continues. “I should probably be training right now, but I don't even know what to train for.” She sighs, “Who knows how powerful Viren has gotten these past two years? I could barely stop him then; how could I now?”
As he looks up to her eyes, he sees her undeniable frustration.
“Then, you were alone,” he continues, “Now, you have a whole team behind you. We have the upper hand. They don't know that.”
“Your right..” she says, thankful for his council.
She reaches for the handle to close the oven.
“They should be ready in…..” she clicks the timer to fifteen. “Fifteen minutes.”
“Can't wait,” he says, excited to have a taste.
Rayla approaches the counter where Callum is currently standing. She quickly boosts herself up onto the smooth surface, settling into a comfortable seated position.
He looks up to her and gives a crooked smile.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she says, laughing awkwardly.
Instead of responding, he takes his hand to her lower neck and asks,
"When did you get this scar?"
He gently glides his hand over it, the thin, white, healed scar just above her collarbone.
As his fingertips make contact with her skin, a noticeable warmth spreads across her face, causing her cheeks to take on a rosy hue.
“A while ago, when I was following dead ends for weeks at a time.” she shrugged.
“Does it hurt?” he asks, curious.
“No, not anymore.” she continues, “I patched it up pretty quick. It wasn't too bad.”
“Sounds badass.”
Her laughs echo the small kitchen, finding joy in his cute replies.
Despite his curiosity, she had no intention of revealing the scar's origin to him, even if he were to ask about it.
It was a dreadful token of one of her worst encounters while on the hunt for Viren. The fight was brutal, but the aftermath was the most destructive. The gashes on her knuckles to her back were severe, and it took several weeks for them to heal entirely. She vividly remembers having to wash her uniform on the riverbank nearby. She looks back on watching as the crimson hues of blood dissipated into the flowing water.
A routine she recalls often having to repeat.
Callum could not contain his curiosity as he pondered the possible origins of Rayla's long scar. He couldn't help but assume that her inherent nature as an assassin would have inevitably led to numerous battles and fights during her time away.
Was it leftover from a heated altercation with an elf, a powerful mage, or perhaps even a brutal encounter with a dark mage? The possibilities were limitless, but Callum didn't want to intrude.
Besides, he assumed she would eventually tell him.
Callum leans forward, his elbows propped on the countertop, his eyes fixed intensely on hers. The atmosphere in the room seems to settle into a quiet stillness as their gazes connect, creating an almost palpable tension between them.
She holds his gaze, captivated by the depth of his jade eyes. Her heart flutters as she traces the curve of his lips with her eyes, unsure of how to proceed. She remains still, taking in every detail of him.
How is it possible for him to have such an unwavering grip on her heart and senses? How, after two years, was she just as in love, if not more, than she was the night she abandoned him?
With beating hearts, they closed the distance between them, their lips meeting in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was a simple action, yet it was filled with such unspoken emotion.
Callum pulls away softly.
"Do you wanna do this?" he asks, seeking her approval.
She looks at him, giving him no answer. Instead, in a flash, she kisses him again.
This kiss was infused with a newfound fire, brimming with intense longing and passion.
Callum adjusts his position as they kiss, moving to stand directly in front of her as she remains seated on the countertop.
As their connection deepened, their kisses grew more fervent, fueling the fire of their passion.
He grasps her waist, as she runs her fingers through his caramel hair.
Her body curled into his, leaving no air in between them.
Their lips move in a symphony, moving in perfect harmony, each of them savoring every passing second.
Rayla, reaching for air, pulls back, her face still centimeters from his, his eyes meeting hers once more.
As they leaned in for more, a sudden noise interrupted them -
DING DING DING DINGGGGGGEEEEE
Rayla tilts her head backward with a hint of frustration, displaying her clear frustration at being interrupted. Meanwhile, Callum laughs in amusement.
“Muffins?” He laughs.
“Muffinssss!!” She says, remembering their previous activity.
After gracefully stepping down from the kitchen counter, she approaches him with delicate steps, making sure to stay close to him. She leans in and places a gentle and affectionate kiss on his lips.
As she breaks away, she is greeted with his soft smile.
"The muffins? They are going to burn!" he teased.
"Oh yeah, almost forgot the muffins again," she says, continuing to laugh alongside him.
______________________________________
He takes his last bite of the soft muffin as he says, "These are sinful."
"Told you I was an expert," she countered, winking at him.
Once they carefully removed their freshly baked muffins from the warm oven, they had settled down on the hard kitchen floor, propping themselves up against the sturdy wooden cabinets next to each other.
Callum's exhaustion finally took hold of him, causing him to let out a deep yawn.
"Sleepy, mister mage?" she whispered, watching his eyes flutter open and closed.
"Something like that," he yawns, looking at her.
As the night wears on, exhaustion slowly overtakes him, and he finds himself resting his head on her soft, comforting shoulder. His breathing becomes deep and steady as he succumbs to sleep, and before long, Rayla follows suit, her breathing matching his in peaceful rhythms. Together, they drift off into a deep, restful slumber, their bodies remaining against each other in a gentle touch.