#Finnegrin was SHAKING

[skywing-human]

This old bitch man of +60 years old was bullied by a 5'8" teenager

I mean, I understand Finn-- This skinny human boy was tortured and chained in another room and now he's here doing primal magic, repelling your control spell and yelling you all your insecurities to your face in front of your entire crew. Actually he is a scary boy

[tallysescape]

yall will never know the way we (me and my brother) absolutely SCREAMED at the end of finnegrin’s wake

[jelzorz]

158.

"Hey, you know how to pick locks, right?"

It's an odd thing to ask. Callum's always been weird like that, Rayla supposes, and usually his weird questions are related to magic, and Xadia, and elven script and Rayla is (generally) happy to oblige. What can she say? He likes to learn, and the lilt in his voice and the light in his eyes and the excitement in his smile is endearing, and she's never been particularly good at saying no, at least not to him.

But this one is weird because it's not a Xadia thing, or a magic thing, or an elven script thing, and when he asks, he's not nearly as upbeat about it. At first, she doesn't get it. It's a useful skill to have, and a fun skill to master—it's like a puzzle but more fiddly, and Rayla had taught herself years and years ago because she didn't like it when Ethari and Runaan tried to keep her out of places, so of course she learned (in part) to spite them. Callum's never really had the same restrictions because he's a prince, and all he has to do to unlock anything is ask, usually, and yet—

"Can you teach me?"

"Er. Sure?" Rayla tilts her head at him curiously. "You planning a heist or something?"

Callum chuckles a little. "Or something," he says cryptically. "What, you don't think I can do it?"

"I don't think it's your style," says Rayla. "You're a prince and high mage, why on earth would you need to know how to pick a lock?"

He smirks then. "Ancient tomes, forbidden libraries, old abandoned ruins, jellytart runs... All sorts of reasons. Just feels like a necessary skill for adventure, y'know?"

Rayla laughs at that. "I mean, I guess. How often are you intending to break into forbidden libraries and old abandoned ruins?"

"As often as I need to, thank you very much. I have a whole life of adventure ahead of me, and I'll be damned if not being able to pick locks is the thing that stops me."

Rayla shakes her head at him, trying not to laugh at the way he wheedles. She was never going to say no, and he knows it, and he's far too smug about it for it not to be funny. For a second, she actually forgets that it's a weird thing to ask and teases him back: "Fine, but you'll have to ask Opeli for the handcuffs. I'm sure she won't wonder why you want them."

Callum snickers loudly at that, and it's that simple, that easy, just jokes between the two of them about a skill they don't really need, until later, when Rayla's showing him the mechanics of a lock and a thought occurs to her that reminds her why the whole thing feels a bit off-kilter.

"You know, we've only really had problems with locks, like, twice," she muses. "There was that one time Opeli arrested me, and then that time on Sea Legs, but I mean, you managed fine."

Something flickers across Callum's face. His smile twitches, falters, and if Rayla didn't know him so well, she might have missed it because she can see how hard he's trying to make it less of a deal than it is.

"Yeah, well." He shifts uncomfortably, the memory just as unpleasant for him. "I don't want repeats. I don't want anyone else trying to feed you to any sea leviathans."

"Somehow I think that was a one time thing." Rayla pauses, her smile fading a little as she fiddles with the manacles on his wrists. "How'd you get out of the chains Finnegrin put you in anyway? You apparently didn't pick them."

There's a pause. Callum looks away, and the whole world stills as the realisation dawns over Rayla, as cold as the way her blood froze in her veins that same day.

"...Callum."

"I had to do," he says quietly. He meets her gaze then, and the storm in his eyes makes her intestines writhe like snakes. "I couldn't let him hurt you."

Rayla says nothing for a moment, fingers hovering over the chains locked around his wrists. Her heart thumps heavily. Her breath shudders out. "Well," she says after a moment. "I guess we have to make sure you don't end up in that position a third time."

"You're not angry?"

"I don't know." She touches his hand then and finds herself relieved that it's still warm under her fingers. She doesn't know how to feel about it, but they're both alive and they're both safe so... that must count for something. "It doesn't matter," she says in the end. "I'm just... Glad we're okay. You won't do it again anyway."

Callum looks up at her. "Won't I?"

"No." Rayla hands him the lockpick. "I won't let you."

[raayllum]

"Don't leave" Rayllum <3

Plus send me a number with a ship and i’ll write it (accepted ships are tdp canon ships + rarepairs (claudiez, sopreli, corvus/terry, sorvus)

He gets nightmares on the way to the Starscraper.

Callum won't say so, but Rayla knows. She's taken to always waiting at night to hear his soft adorable little snores before she lets herself drift off, too, and with every night that passes since they've left the castle, it takes longer and longer for him to fall asleep. He wakes up close to noon with bags under his eyes, blankets tangled up along legs from thrashing in the night.

The first time she wakes him up, he whimpers and pushes her away, and won't—for the first time—accept her comfort. It hurts more than any cold shoulder ever did upon her return.

The second time, his eyes are wild, staring like they don't recognize her at first. Then the terror fades, warmth amid the clammy quality to his skin seeping back into his eyes, even if he still shies away from her touch and twice as much from her words.

"It's nothing you can help with," he mumbles regarding the hell in his head.

Her heart squeezes painfully. Something she can't protect him from.

Maybe that's why he never lets her comfort him back to sleep, lie with him on the mattress, nor hold his hand to ward off the monsters that hurt him so. He doesn't want her close, and she can't understand why, but... Rayla is the last person to question wanting space or to demand closeness.

She doesn't tell him that she lies awake on her mattress after each terror, watching over him while he sleeps, because that's something she can do.

It's their last night in the creaking boat before they reach the shoreline. Before it will just be a long, snowy trek to the Starscraper.

Tonight, when he thrashes, she shakes him away as her name escapes her lips, his desperate cry twisting her heart painfully, and when his eyes fly open, they look at her with only teary-eyed relief. "Rayla—"

"It's okay." She kneels by the side of the bed, taking his face in her hands. Brushing away his tears best she can. "We're okay."

His breathing slowly calms, helped by a few small sky incantations, before he removes her hands from his cheeks and they fall to her sides again. She wants to hold him. She wants to help him. But if he—

"Do you want to talk about it?" she offers, even as she has her suspicions: Aaravos, a puppetmaster. And whatever Finnegrin had done to him on that cursed ship. Not for the first time, she wishes she could kill Aaravos herself, just to put him at ease; that Finnegrin being in the belly of a sea leviathan was enough to calm the roiling storms in her best friend's mind.

He shakes his head. "No."

She straightens, pursing her lips, turning to leave—because ever since coming back, she still can't quite stay, because the world is still in danger, and because it will take more time for the distance he's enforced to dwindle and that's fine, really, it is—

He snags her wrist. "Wait," Callum croaks, and Rayla turns back around. Waiting. Watching. His thumb strokes over the place her binding used to rest. "Don't leave."

She inhales sharply,

Believe me, I want to go down there with you... You've got to stay with me... Really, that's it, just — goodbye? You're going to stay here and die out of... But would it be alright, maybe, if I stay?

He's never asked before. Not like this.

She steps closer. "Callum—"

"I want you to stay," he states, looking up at her. A beat. "Please."

Rayla crawls into the bed beside him and wraps him up in her arms. He settles, forehead pressed to her neck—faintly listening to her heart, she thinks, as she holds him tight.

If he wants her to... if he wants her, then—

Rayla kisses his forehead. "I'll never leave again," she promises.

She'll keep it this time.

[zuppizup]

Conservation of Energy

Summary: Apparently, one of the most effective ways of keeping warm is sharing body heat.

For survival purposes, of course.

Pairing: Rayla/Callum

Rating: Teen And Up

“Couldn’t you have connected to the S-sun arcanum or something?” Rayla huffed, hood pulled low over her face as she cradled Stella under her cloak and slowly put one foot in front of the other. The snow was at least hard and compacted here, making progress somewhat easier than the deep drifts of yesterday.

“Well, maaaaybe if someone hadn’t upset my f-future aunt-in-law I could have asked her for some pointers.” Callum grinned despite the clear shake in his voice. He was using his staff for support, but even so, he looked to be struggling.

“That wasn’t all m-me…” Her teeth chattered and her hands felt numb. Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, she tried to push the thoughts of the last time she felt so bitterly cold from her mind, an image of Finnegrin flashing before her eyes before she pushed it away.

“We s-should find shelter for the night.”

The mirth had left Callum’s voice, and she opened her eyes to find him watching her, a concerned look on his face.

AO3 Link: Conservation of Energy

[maddoc05]

Finnegrin doesn’t loom. He doesn’t need to. 

Instead, he nodded to Deadwood, and Callum watched as the thing around the creature’s knuckles crackle with lightning. Chained securely to the wall, and Callum already knows that he has no place to escape. His stomach clenched, his mind going curiously numb as it prepares him for the pain.

But at least it wasn’t Ez. It wasn’t Rayla. It wasn’t Soren. Villads. 

Callum could take it. He had to.

He looked away.

The feather-light touch of a glove tilted his head upwards. Callum hadn’t even registered the sound of footsteps on the wooden planks. The scent of salt and brine assaulted his senses. So close that it was inescapable. The coin flipped through the fingers of Finnegrin’s hand with ease, an almost idle motion, rocking back and forth like a boat sways on sea. 

“I am a reasonable elf, Callum.” Finnegrin said, a low whisper in Callum’s ear. “Just give me what I want, and you and your friends walk free. After all, one of your own has already done it. There is no need for pain. No need for you to hurt your friends.”

Callum jolted, as if struck. “If you even touch them-” His voice dropped to a snarl.

Finnegrin drew back. Amidst the hardness in his dark eyes, Callum saw the glitter of satisfaction. “I won’t even have to raise a finger.” He promised. He nodded to Deadwood, and before Callum could react, the creature took the first swing. 

The force slammed him against the wooden pillar. His head snapped back from the power of it, mouth open in a short, harsh cry as the air was readily driven from his lungs, as he felt something crack and break. He tasted copper. His head rang.

“What- ” He wheezed, choking-

“Sound carries well over water.” Finnegrin informed him, his voice almost kind. “Perhaps you would do well to remember that.” The implied threat hung in the air.

The next hit was worse. The lightning ripped through him this time, locking up all his muscles and he couldn’t scream not even if he wanted to with the way that the contact burned his cheeks. The tears that slipped from his eyes was hot, like the pain was hot, a sharp knife caressing through his insides as the creature trailed its charged knuckles across Callum’s face and down the side of his neck and-

It dug in between his shoulder blades, pinning him in place without any give, any place for his body to react. He tasted the ozone first, and then he tossed his head back with a guttural scream. 

His vision returned in splotches. His breath came in short, harsh pants, a fine tremor running like a crack over his entire body, and all he felt was the aftermath of the sparks that held his muscles taut and stretched, the second it failed him all at once and he sagged against the only thing holding him in place.

If he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend that he hears Rayla’s voice, calling his name.

He’s given a moment to breathe. Breathe. He just- had to- breathe. He sobbed the next breath as quietly as he could, shaking with the agony that lanced through him.  The logical part of him knew that Finnegrin was not going to kill him, not yet, there’s something from him that the Tidebound elf still wanted, but Callum tethers also on the edge, lost within the throes of the desperate struggle to survive.

The blood that trickled from where it split his lip landed on the creature’s arm, staining the wood dark.

It was clear where this was heading. 

(Callum, stubborn in his silence. Finnegrin, ruthless in his)

“Suit yourself.” Finnegrin sighed theatrically and the coin stilled in between in his third and fourth finger.

Callum flinched, long before the blows resumed raining down on him.

And all the while the captain watched, with nothing but the cold of the sea in his gaze. The cold of a watery grave. And if Callum was still conscious enough to hear it, the distant mourn of the ship’s crew as they sang well into the evening.

-

“Arghh!” Rayla yanked against the chains, the steel cold and biting, but that was nothing compared to the chill of the fear in her gut. It could almost be mistaken for the cold of the fog from the sea, but she knew better.

Finnegrin had taken Callum below deck, along with Zym and Bait and the rest of the wee Baitlings, and she had been helpless to do anything to stop it. She met Soren’s gaze grimly, and he returned in their silent conversation by scooting closer to Ezran. “Sea legs, huh?” He said loudly, “I get it now.”

“Aye.” Captain Villads said, uncharacteristically solemn. “It’d be that.” 

“Crab-solutely crazy, right?” Soren shook his head. 

Rayla let the forced chatter fade. She wondered, what did Finnegrin want?

Callum was- he was the most amazing person that Rayla had ever known. His display with stealing the wind from Finnegrin’s sails was certainly impressive, but now it also had attracted the attention of the wrong person. She thought of her first impression of the Tidebound elf - that shadowed figure, high above in the railings. She did not have to wonder what sort of acts he had done to maintain that sort of control. 

Rayla was afraid. Of course she was.

She gave the chains another vicious tug. It did nothing. She eyed the empty chains where Nyx had been, right before she’d been allowed to fly free. There would be no hope of rescue from that one, Rayla thought resentfully. Worst still, she didn’t even know what deal the Skywing elf had cut with Finnegrin in exchange for that freedom. 

Her arms ached. She knew that there would be bruises there - in the morning. If she even survived to see one.

“Rayla.” Ezran said softly. “Callum will be alright.”

But there was that same fear mirrored in his eyes.

She should have been comforting him, not the other way around. “I know, Ez.” She said, more confidently than she had any right to at that moment. “Callum, he’s- he’s strong.” Stronger than me. “He’ll be fine.” She hated that the words still felt like an untruth.

“If they wanted us dead, laddie,” Villads consoled, “We would have been all thrown overboard before you could say ‘argh ’.”

“Arghh.” Soren said. He waited a beat. Then smiled. “See, nothing?”

Rayla tried for a smile. 

But the moment of levity was short-lived. The distant murmur of voices, too low for her to ever make out, was interrupted by the start of a sharp, pained cry. It was a noise that cut right through her bones and stilled her heart in her chest. She immediately knew who it belonged to. 

Ezran’s face went white. 

Soren sucked in a breath. Rayla thought she heard him mutter under his breath, “Oh crab.”

She herself barely had time to react, before it was followed by what could only be described as a scream, Callum screaming, she had never heard him make that sort of sound before, she- she had to- Callum- what was Finnegrin doing to him -

Something inside her snapped. 

Almost before she registered the thought, her body was already moving. Rayla squared her shoulders and threw herself forward. The chains yanked her back just as viciously, metal grinding in the hot sea air. “CALLUM!” She raised her voice desperately, feet slamming against the part where her part of the chain connected to the deck.

Her eyes caught one of the nearby sailor’s. The man looked away just as quickly.

Something inside of her slipped even further.

Rayla aimed a particularly vicious kick, a low animal growl escaping her as she tried to set herself free. Her enemies were the chains that held her down, and there would be no mercy for that which stopped her from reaching Callum. She felt for weaknesses in the metal, the beginnings of a plan formulating in her mind, but for that she also knew she needed a little bit more time. 

The silence of the gaps in between hurt equally like knives in her chest, the terror that bubbled up turning her reckless, even as she tried and failed to desperately grasp onto any semblance of calm that she still could muster. Callum had to be alive, he couldn’t be dead, she would know .

The three things that would haunt Rayla’s nightmares long after was this - 

The glittering of salt waters and Ezran’s sniffled tears. The sound of creaking wood and the bite of metal holding her back. 

And when Finnegrin had ordered her mage brought out-

Callum, slumped motionless on the deck and on his knees, bloodied and bruised and as defeated as she had ever seen him. 

Her chains clicked. It dropped to the deck. 

Rayla lunged.

[fearsomecaptain]

Finnegrin's Crew (Part 2)

This is a continuation of this post

5. Blue Hair Ram Horn Elf

She mostly appears in the background and we only see her in the first half of 5.08. After Callum punches Finnegrin and is subsequently knocked out knocked out by Elmer, she is replaced by her purple hair variant (will discuss afterwards).

Her most notable appearance is when Rayla grabs the harpoons and she looks scared

6 and 7. Purple Hair Ram Horn Elves

We have two of these: one that never leaves the helm until Villads takes over and one who appears on deck and later replaces the Blue Hair variant.

The helmsman is mostly blurry in the background but she does react to things. She tilts her head after Callum punches Finn (left and center) and she stumbles forward after Finn disrupts Callum's spell and it shakes the ship.

The deck version also mostly appears in the background. Here's her while Finn is waiting for a sea leviathan to show up (left) and her looking at Soren as he confronts Finn about Elmer (right)

We see her (well, one of the two) in the first shot of the crew (right) as well as standing on the deck after Finn captured the heroes (center). We also see her in Scumport a couple of times (right)

These seven are the ones who have a 3D model. Next come the crew that exist only in the background as 2D images.

8, 9 and 10. The Crew on The Quarterdeck

In 5.08, we mainly see those three up there, sometimes changing positions.

From left to right: Red Headband Elf, Muscle Tattoo Elf and Long Hair Human

It was really hard to find good images of them because they're just always blurry! Red Headband and Long Hair are in one of the establishing shots of Scumport (right) and we also see Muscle Tattoo and Red Headband in 5.07 after the heroes were captured

We do see them in various places of Scumport as well but they're all very blurry.

When it comes to the elves with 3D models, they're all clearly Earth blood elves. The twins have green hair, the ram horned ones, well, have ram horns. But what are these two? It's hard to see the details of their heads properly but they clearly don't have the ears of Tidebound elves, so could they be wingless Skywing elves?

11 and 12. The Blink And You Miss Them Duo

You can also see them in one of the opening shots. One is an elf with pink hair and is always seen carrying a crate and the other has a sailor's hat and is holding a knife and based on the number of fingers, they're an elf as well.

Here are the clearest we see them

The sailor hat and knife elf appears in Scumport and they both can be seen in random places on Sea Legs seen from afar in 5.07.

Both of their skin is fairly pale so maybe they're Moonshadow elves?

So there you go - Finn's 12 crew members. Elmer makes it 13. The Devil's dozen 🤭

Bonus - here are some shots of the ship where you can see a bunch of crew:

Here's the view of the main deck towards the end of the episode. You can see the Blue Hair Human, the headless body of Long Hair Human, one of the Earthblood Twins carrying a rope and Pink Hair and Crate Elf.

Here's a shot from 5.07 when Nyx looks at Finnegrin's ship through the telescope only to see him look back at her :D We can see the Long Hair Human, the Muscle Tattoo Elf and one of the Earthblood Twins.

We can vaguely see someone in the crow's nest (probably the Red Hair Human), then there's the Sailor's Hat and Knife Elf on the fore-top, Red Headband Elf on the main top, Pink Hair and Crate Elf on the quarterdeck and then Long Hair Human and one of the Twins on the main deck.

Here we see Red Headband and Helmsman on the quarterdeck, Pink Hair and Crate on the quarterdeck stairs, Muscle Tattoo, Long Hair Human and a Twin on the main deck.

[dovesndecay]

Finnegrin theory:

I don't think he's dead, especially not after Callum told him what he would need to kill Domina Profundis.

Also...

When a bucket of whiskey flew at him

It missed and falling on the bed

The liquor scattered over Tim

Tim revives, see how he rises

Timothy rising from the bed

Said "Whirl your whiskey around like blazes

Thundering Jesus, do you think I'm dead?"

Whack fol the da, now, dance to your partner

Welt the floor your trotters shake

Wasn't it the truth I tell you

Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake

[raayllum]

this isn't how i'm writing it in fanon s6 bc i can pace things however i want with zero time constraints but this is something i could see s6 doing + i like being self indulgent so

They'd been stupid to trust the Celestial Elves.

It was the only thought running through Callum's brain as he stared in horror, the corona sealed back glass, the Nova Blade a weapon no mortal could wield, and Rayla—

On her knees, the leader holding an ordinary but no less terrifying blade to her throat, his face still a bit scraped up from his and Rayla's earlier scuffle. She'd been the one to catch the elf reaching for Callum's bag when they slept that night; she'd be the one to draw her sword first and engage him, quickly overwhelmed by the time Callum and her parents had arrived.

They were all talented warriors, but rusty after two years in a coin—Runaan unable to draw his bow with only one arm, and something long range was needed here. Some way to kill the leader and give Rayla time, even if he held her in a vice grip, pressing down hard enough on her throat there was thin, scarlet line growing.

"You have something we need, boy," the leader hissed, breathing heavily through a broken nose. "You know what it is."

Runaan's voice broke through, sharp and demanding—"What is he talking about?"—but Callum couldn't tear his eyes away from Rayla. She was struggling to breathe, let alone speak, but gave her head the barest shake. No.

"What are you going to do with it?" Callum says as neutrally as he can, stalling (there has to be a spell or a way out of this) even if he already knows the answer.

What else could they hope to do with something called the Key of Aaravos?

"I'll tell you what we're going to do your elf girl unless you give it so us," the Celestial elf snarls. "On the count of three, I'll slit her throat. One—"

"Stop!"

Two hadn't even left his lips, Callum having an excuse to look away from Rayla's glaring, tearshot eyes now as he digs the cube out of his bag. It feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as he holds it up.

On Finnegrin's ship, at least he'd been able to hide what he was doing—what he was willing to do—in the shadowy depths of the ship. Here, in the light, there's nowhere to hide.

Callum holds it out, taking a few steps closer. "Lower the sword first," he says.

"And have her wriggle free? I don't think so."

"Callum," she wheezes. "Don't—"

"Fine then," Callum snaps. "At the same time—an exchange. On my count of three. One—" He looses his grip on the cube, the ring of celestial elves watching eagerly. "Two—" It's not ideal, him and Rayla in front of where any of her parents could join the fray; there will have to be distance before anyone can fight either way. But then, he's not doing this out of the certainty he'll get the Key back, that it won't end in disaster.

Just for her safety. Just for himself, because he can't live without her.

This was his destiny, what Aaravos was banking on. And he was right.

"Three!"

The Celestial elf takes his blade away and shoves her forward at the same time Callum tosses the cube over. It's caught in one shiny blue hand, the elf towering over him as Callum slides to his knees, catching Rayla as she careens forward before she can hit the floor. She coughs weakly in his arms, bleeding at the throat, but it seems shallow.

The celestial elves make it maybe five five away with their prize before her parents leap into action, swords clashing, but Callum grabs his staff and constructs a funnel of wind around him and Rayla, a thick enough wall of air to keep anyone else out momentarily, as he helps her sit up.

"Callum." She's crying, but alive.

"Let me look at you," he murmurs, lifting up her chin. He uses his scarf to wipe away the blood, relieved when more doesn't follow. A shallow cut just to scare him, but it'd worked. He pulls her into his arms next, just needing a moment to feel her heart beating against his.

She takes a second to hold him back and then does so, tightly, and his heart settles as they sit there shaking. She hasn't forgiven him for it yet, maybe—but she will.

[raayllum]

11 and/or 21 for Rayllum please!

It's stupid, because Rayla has always been able to handle the cold. She'd climbed up a mountain without even a coat when they were kids, had survived (barely, but survived) shaking in the Shiver Glades looking for Viren with only Stella for warmth. Callum had seen right through her "I'm cold" farce under Umber Tor for a reason beyond the shakiness of their relationship, and—

She'd known it'd be cold up here in a place called the goddamn Frozen North. It shouldn't have been affecting her like it was. Callum had bore the brunt of Finnegrin's ice-blood spell too, after all, and he hadn't screamed and collapsed. He hadn't been helpless.

He was fine now, scarf pulled up over his mouth, and if Callum was fine, then she was fine.

She is fine, even if her heart beat fast, and her toes and whole legs feel frozen, and every step feels like it might be her last.

She just can't—or won't—let it show, as she and Callum trudge ahead, cloaks flapping like raven's wings over the snow, the bitter wind stinging their faces.

Finally, though, the snow parts long enough for them to spot a cluster of caves up ahead, and she's glad she's not the one to say it as he puffs out, "Shelter."

They stagger forward together, Rayla letting him go in first once he has a light in his hand and she's checked for tracks, just to make sure nothing's waiting for them on the inside. It doesn't take long to get a fire going, thanks to Callum's magic, and a heating spell now that they're sitting.

It doesn't do as much as she'd like, the chill settling into her bones. They may be out of the elements, thank the gods, but now they're sitting, sweat from trudging through the snow giving everything an extra damp chill. She lets Stella out of her coat to go right by the fire, and blows air into her hands when the warmth doesn't seem to want to stick.

"Are you cold?" Callum asks, nudging her knee with his, the gangly legs he grew into during her absence stretched out in front of him. Their shoulders touch.

"I'm alright," she answers, but it must not be convincing enough, as he takes off his cloak and drapes it over her shoulders before she can stop him. "Callum—"

"Sky and Ocean magic keeps me pretty toasty," he assures her, now just wearing his snow dusted scarf, his cheeks flushed and eyes warm and dark in the firelight. He smiles, truthful. "I'm fine."

She draws the cloak more securely around her shoulders and looks away, hoping her lingering shivering isn't noticeable. "Thank you. I—"

Then Callum lets out a very Callum-y, exasperated sigh, and loops an arm around her shoulders. Tugs her towards him into his warm chest. "Just hold onto me," he huffs quietly, his upturned lips brushing her brow.

Rayla hesitates, and then curls into him, some of the chill finally seeping away. The tension too, settling into the coziness they can have in this cave, just the two of them. She manages a tiny smile as she closes her eyes, his arms wrapped around her. "Thank you, Callum."

[raayllum]

"The great illusion of childhood is that adults have all the freedom and power. But the truth is the opposite: a child is freer than a king." / "There as a beautiful upside down truth, which is that these moments of purest strength look like weakness to those who don't know better."

While Callum still undeniably has arcs and growing up to do ahead of him, I think in a lot of ways this scene in 5x08 marks a definitive turning point in his coming-of-age arc. Fearing a lack of control in the fallout of S4, Callum sought out the Ocean arcanum because he thought it would give him more strength or control ("controlling the tides") or existing in opposition to domineering forces ("or fighting the currents"). And while there's still elements of that here (pun intended) as the revelation does let him shake Finnegrin off, there's also the uncomfortableness of the truth that mutually exists. The Ocean arcanum is about control yes, but about learning - deep down - what forces you're at the mercy of, and what may be controlling you, even if it's things you don't totally understand.

And thus we get Callum clasping his wrist like a chain, the same way he did upon being presented the rattle snake tail, because now he knows better than ever the depths he'll go to for his loved ones; for Rayla. That those depths are still unknown, but deep as the Ocean, to a sometimes worrying degree.

That the journey to knowing yourself is never truly over, and that's part of adulthood, too.

[raayllum]

Is there anything to say about this scene that hasn't already been said? The impact, what a shining moment it is for Soren, and how beautifully it both illustrates the themes of the show while setting up future scenes and potential reaffirmations in the future (re: Rayla helping Callum break free of Aaravos' control, too).

A few other notes, though:

Soren telling Rayla to "Stop" and shaking his head to Callum -> Ezran's "I just want to yell stop!" from 4x03 -> Ezran telling Soren to "stay down" -> Finnegrin's outraged "I didn't tell you to stop!" when Elmer unfolds his fist

Soren having previously chased a path of "don't pick a fight you can't finish/win" and now he's picking a (metaphorical) battle that he may not win, and in which he throws no punches in, at least partly because of how Ezran has inspired him and informed by his own experiences with Viren

Sunshine boy

[maddoc05]

Bait followed him around everywhere now. It took a little longer for Callum himself to catch on, but then again, there were only so many times you could accidentally nearly trip over the same glow toad. Granted, half his vision was also still a little hazy from where he’d been decked in the face.

But still.

After the sixth time, Callum gave in. Lifting Bait up, he placed the glow toad next to him on the bed.

The sun had long since set some time ago. He'd said goodnight to the rest of them, taking the room furthest away from Finnegrin's quarters as he possibly could. It was quieter here too. But he couldn't relax. He occupied his mind with thoughts of what acquiring the ocean arcanum now meant for him, and tried very hard not to think of what it cost to get there. 

Callum couldn't sleep.

His breathing became slightly stilted. Drawing the air into his lungs hurt as much as the memory did. 

He let Bait play with the scarf as he hooked two fingers inside his collar and cautiously peeled away the cloth from his neck. It stung. His fingernails came away with dried flakes of blood. He realised his hands were shaking as well. His thoughts slipped for just a moment, and he gingerly touched his throat, tracing the indent of skin, the sore bruises. 

He thought of his reflection in the glass, eyes black as night. The precious seconds it cost him to wait for it to subside.

He nearly jolted when Bait scrambled up on his lap. The glow toad had changed colour as well, glowing muted and pained. “It probably just looks worse than it actually is.” Callum was quick to reassure, forcing his voice to sound upbeat. “How about you, Bait? You were almost leviathan food today.”

Bait showed his visible displeasure with being stuffed inside a cage. 

“Yeah. It sucks, doesn’t it.”

Bait dug his stubby toes into Callum’s outfit - and ignoring his complained ‘hey, ow, ow, Bait what- ’ -  rested his head against Callum’s shoulder, as the toad mimicked what he had seen Ezran do so many times before. The mage stilled for a moment. Then, gently, his right hand came to rest against Bait’s side, the other supporting him from beneath and making it easier to cling on. 

“You and Zym, um, saw all that huh.” Callum murmured, his voice stuttering. 

Bait let out a mournful trill, and then stuck out his tongue to lick the cut on Callum’s face. 

“It’s not that bad.” Callum said. He chuckled nervously. “I think most of it is mostly internal anyway.”

Bait scoffed. 

As if on cue, there was a scratching at the door. Callum’s heart sped up, just before that sound was accompanied by a familiar whine. A relieved sigh was drawn out of him as he stood and opened the door, discreetly looking around. Zym bounded in, almost a blur, with a pleased chirp as the dragon wove through Callum’s legs to nudge the door shut again. 

The dragon prince spat something on the ground, then looked up expectantly. It took a moment for Callum to realise what he was looking at, and his breath caught.

It was the metal snakes that he had turned his chains into. 

It lay unmoving now before him. Thoroughly zapped into submission.

“Zym!” The shame was nothing new. The ooze of the crushed slug. The acrid taste of his own guilt and resolution. “Zym, I know what I did, I had to, I- I-” - would do it again in a heartbeat - “Did- Did anybody else see you bring it here?”

Zym huffed, a cross look scrunching his features. He zapped Callum’s arm lightly, then looked apologetic when Callum flinched. Bait grumbled in warning, then leapt from his perch on Callum to land on the bed so that he was at eye-level with the dragon. The two stared unblinkingly at each other for a long time.

“O-kay.” Callum said, “I’m just going to-” His voice trailed off as he picked up the snake-chains, opened the port window, and tossed it into the sea where it would hopefully stay buried in its depths forever. The sea air was colder at night.

Zym rumbled disapprovingly. But other than clambering up next to Bait, he didn’t seem all that bothered. That was a good sign, hopefully.

“So…” Callum tried. “You’re not going to tell Ezran, right?”

Zym yawned. Bait grumbled. 

“It’s getting late.”

Neither budged.

Callum sighed, then raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright then.” He did his best to avoid squishing either of them by accident, gingerly laying at the far side of the bed. He closed his eyes, feeling the boat rock and sway beneath him. Perhaps it was a side-effect from connecting to its arcanum, but Callum could almost swear that he could feel the ocean call to him. 

He opened his eyes a moment later, when something soft scratched against the side of his arm. Bait blinked at him slowly, half the scarf in the glow toad’s mouth and the other half draped over Callum as if a very tiny blanket. Not to be outdone, Zym shuffled closer, and slid inconspicuously in between. His claws curled inwards, one wing tucked close and the other nestled against Callum’s chest. The warmth seemed to relax him. 

Callum softened. “Goodnight, Bait. Goodnight, Zym.”

“Manus. Pluma. Volantus.” He murmured as softly as he could, and watched the runes tattooed into his arms glow in the dark, the second before soft downy feathers sprouted from his skin. Bait turned orange, grunting in appreciation as he settled in for the night. Zym lay his head on Callum’s shoulder, nuzzling the underside of the mage’s chin. 

It took a long time for him to drift off to sleep, but when he did-

He still dreamt of salt and brine.