#also theres a wholeeeeee lot of s5 speculation that i tried to get across without just dumping it all

[blutopaz15]

rayllum week 2023

prompt: flowers

rated t, 2k

He probably doesn’t remember, and honestly…it’s okay.

She doesn’t blame him.

She’d decided that this morning, after the toppled pile of books and the rushed apology she’d woken up to.

“Sorry, Rayla! And, uh…morning!”

Callum’s steps had stuttered towards her, and even with sleep crusties and too much sunlight in her eyes, she’d still gotten a little swoony over that dorky-cute smile flashed in her direction, the bedhead he hadn’t even sorted out yet, that over-eager enthusiasm all over his everything…but then he’d turned away instead of coming closer. He’d jumped right back into sorting the books that he and Kazi had clearly been pulling off the shelves for at least an hour or two already, and she couldn’t deny she’d been a little disappointed—

“This pile’s for Aaravos, that one’s for the coins, and…let’s start a Sky magic stack, just because.”

—but she really couldn’t begrudge him that.

There were plenty of more important things to worry about besides her birthday, after all.

Anyway, she’d only mentioned it…what? Once? When they’d been sleep-deprived on the back of that ambler, pretending like they were listening to each other’s answers to five-, then twenty-questions, rather than just staring at each other’s lips, hardly keeping from kissing again?

But then, he’d mentioned it once too, on the road back to the Nexus, wondering aloud if—

If they’d be back to Katolis in time for their birthdays.

Even if he does remember…nothing is just about what she deserves anyway, as far as birthdays with Callum go, Rayla resolves when the morning passes without a word about it.

She spends the day stewing like that—excusing herself when Callum’s dumb, adorable face makes the regret too much to handle, trying to distract herself with patrolling and target practice, avoiding the reproachful looks from Amaya she’s been getting since they’d gotten here yesterday that she knows she deserves but really, really doesn’t need.

It’s dusk when she heads back inside, but research stretches on until nightfall, and she spends the difference talking herself out of the downward spiral that’d convinced her Callum was too hurt still to even bring up birthdays, let alone have any interest in acknowledging hers. Her head stops spinning—finally—once she and Stella retreat to their little corner of the abandoned Bookery, though.

Judging by the height of the pile that Callum had stacked there beside his bedroll—Sky magic books, she guesses—he’s been busy…and that’s all the reassurance she needs.

He just…doesn’t realize it’s her birthday, she tells herself again, like she had this morning. Clearly, he just has—they just have—a lot going on.

With the moon new, it’s dark enough that even she strains and squints to read the spines of the books, wondering to herself as she looks at the stack if she should tell him or not.…until familiar footsteps bring some firelight to their little not-quite camp.

“You have quite a collection going here, mage,” she chuckles, kneeling by his books, the light letting her confirm that, yes, this whole pile was Callum’s personal Sky magic stack. “Think you might need to send a few of these home to—oh.”

…and she doesn’t need to tell him, apparently, if the fistful of flowers and the smile on his face mean what she thinks they mean.

“It’s your birthday,” Callum starts, setting down the lantern to free a hand to hold out…and she exhales.

She thinks she hides the tingling wave of calm that comes with Callum reaching for her and knows she hides the relieved tears that prickle—just a bit—in her eyes, easily blinking them away before she even puts her hand in his.

“It is,” she says, just a hint of a snicker in her answer. Rayla smiles as she leans into his warm steady hand to stand…and that’s almost familiar again—the brief shows of support, the fleeting moments of comfort, the gentle reminders that he’s there for her. She almost leaves her hand there, covered completely by his, her thumb drifting to his wrist…but lingering like that was uncertain territory still since she’d been back. She remembers how surprised he’d been at her head on his shoulder and how stiff he’d been the whole time on her shadowpaw…so she pulls away and points to the flowers in his other hand instead, each bloom the same vibrant red. “What are these?”

“Uh…orchids, I think?” He examines them himself, peering down at the little bouquet held between them then tilting them to her, holding them out til the soft petals brush her hand. “I guess Sunfire elves do a lot of flowers, so when I told Kazi I needed a gift for you…”

“You told them?” she asks, fingertips brushing his as she takes the flowers by the stems, knowing no one else would’ve had a reason to know about her birthday if Callum didn’t mention it, wondering if anyone else had known all day.

“Just them. I asked them to keep it to themself.” Callum explains, haste in his voice, and Rayla looks up from fiddling with a leaf, realizing that her doubt might have read as displeasure. “You were…quiet this morning, so I thought maybe that was best?”

“We’re busy,” she nods. That’d been the right move, she thinks, even if she’d spent the day assuming the worst, and she squashes the urge to touch him as extra assurance that he’d done the right thing. A big deal about her birthday after what she’d done to him on his, would’ve been…not great. Her eyes fall back to the flowers, and she shuffles her weight to her other foot. “Plus, everyone’s kind of very not happy with me so—”

Rayla stops when his hand slips into hers, lifting her head and finding Callum staring at her sweet and sincere as ever—

“I’m happy with you,” he says, eyes half-lidded, smile sideways.

He’s leaning in, she thinks, paralyzed in place, knowing her mouth is hanging open, knowing she’s looking at his lips…but then the sideways smile there breaks to a wide grin and he repeats himself, squeezing her hand tight enough to snap her out of it.

“And it’s your birthday!” Callum exclaims, and then—

He starts singing, with his own special…Callum-ness that she’s sure isn’t actually a part of the Katolis birthday song.

Right out the gate, she has to bite her lip to stifle her laughter down to a giggle at the silly, dumb dance moves he’s clearly just making up to make her smile, and she almost loses it at the dramatic flourish he adds to the third birthday. Too quickly, the song is over, though, and she’s about to teasingly clap for him—

—but then his lips are on her cheek.

It takes longer than she cares to admit for her to grasp that it’d just been the wishes and kisses and laughter and love he’d just sung about that’d made him kiss her, and she covers the spot where his lips had been in the meantime, not quite knowing what else to do. There was no point in hiding her wide eyes or flushed cheeks, obviously, she realizes, especially seeing how satisfied Callum seemed with her response to his little performance.

“That…that was the—”

“Katolis birthday song,” Callum nods, grinning, and takes the flowers from her hands, leaving them on a table before cheerily pulling her to a spot without books underfoot, “and there’s a dance I’m supposed to learn, right?”

…and her pounding heart falls.

“Callum—” she starts, the words in her letter as fresh as the night she’d written them—for the both of them, apparently—and she swallows thickly, reminded again of all it had—how she had—ruined between them.

Callum shakes his head before she can say more, though, eyes soft and reassuring, and—

—it’s…okay, apparently.

“We’re not missing any more birthdays, alright?” he says, more unbothered than she can understand, easily putting a stop to the spiral she’d spent the day on with a final squeeze before he drops her hands and gestures to the open space around them.

It just takes a blink and a breath, and she follows suit, moving forward.

“Okay, well,” she starts, looking around, considering where to begin. “It works better with more people, but—”

“I can go get the others if you want?” Callum asks with a shrug, a thumb pointed over his shoulder…and she shakes her head in immediate answer, uninterested in spending her birthday with anyone but him.

“No, no, just—uh…just us is fine.” Showing him is obviously the answer, so Rayla presses on his shoulders to switch their spots. “The birthday elf—uhh, person—is supposed to be in the middle, and you kind of dance around them, so…belated birthday dance to demonstrate?”

Her proposition comes with an apologetic smile—she’d meant to make it back to the castle in time for his 17th—and he nods, everything about his answer soft, silent forgiveness.

She spends her first round humming music she hasn’t heard in ages, the second naming the steps as she goes, the third telling him the counts.

By her fourth, she hardly even blushes when the chain of turns at the end of the dance brings them nose-to-nose, close enough to kiss, which was kind of the point when your lover was a part of the dance, but…

She shouldn’t…so she doesn’t.

“Okay,” he says as she comes in close again. “I think I’ve got it.”

“Yeah?” She grins at the head-rush of his breath on her cheek before smoothly spinning away…except that she can’t, because Callum’s caught her hands again and uses her momentum to take her place.

“Eh…mostly?” he shrugs, before drawing a dramatic breath and setting himself up like she had at the start, his leg outstretched at something like the angle she’d shown him. She counts while he copies her, his memory accurate…even if the execution is a little off.

Really, though, considering the swaying in place that Katolis called dancing she’d seen those couple of weeks in the castle…he does pretty great, she thinks, tickled at him so attentive to learning something so familiar to her.

He starts that last series of turns that she knows will bring him in close, and she knows she shouldn’t kiss him kiss him…but he’d gotten her cheek earlier, hadn’t he?

“You’ve got it,” she nods after her lips leave his soft face, stomach fluttering at finding him almost as surprised and flushed as she’d been, then moves on just as quickly as he had. “Then usually you do it again—it’s supposed to be eighteen times for an eighteenth birthday—but kind of…rotate around? If there’s more than one dancer, that is.”

“Eighteen Moonshadow Birthday Dances, coming right up!” Callum says, determinedly setting up for another round. The steps flow, one into the next, a little better this second time, and she tells him so as he starts spinning in towards her again…but he pouts in answer instead of giving her another melty smile like the first time. “What…no kiss this time?”

And no way was she going to pass up that invitation.

Of course, she appeases him before grinning and sending him on his way, singing the tune now—on to a third, and fourth, and fifth repetition—each finished with her lips pressed to his cheek.

By his eighteenth time through, he has the pattern down pat. He hums along with her, even, and, of course, finishes the turns with his beaming face tilted to the side, welcoming her kiss like she’d worried he never would again.

…and she wonders about that last wish she’d had for Callum’s fifteenth birthday.

He’s done dancing now, and still just as close, still reaching for her.

“Happy birthday,” he says, leaning in again…and she’s just as still and speechless as before.

Her eyes flutter, her tongue wets her lips, her breath falls on his cheek, and he crashes into her, his arms locked around her waist, his heartbeat against her chest—

…his hug warm and tight and close.

…and that’s okay too.