#mentions of tiadrin

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

It took Callum a minute to pinpoint what woke him. The ache in his chest, while acute, was no stronger than it had been when he’d slipped into sleep. The wind rustled the trees outside, but in a way that was gentle and static. A way that made the sharp, shuddering sounds coming from beside him all the more obvious in comparison.

“Rayla? Are you crying?”

He fully expected to push him away, to deny it. 

“Yeah,” she said instead. 

He sat up, and she did too, allowing him to wrap his arms around her from behind and hold her while the sobs wracked her body until her breathing evened and she leaned limply against him.

There was no point in asking why she was crying. But in Callum’s long experience with grief, he’d come to realize that waves were often brought on by different triggers, came to surface in different ways. It wasn’t always a bludgeon that knocked you flat with the overwhelming reality of absence. Too often, it was a million knives, each uniquely sharpened by a different memory or missed experience, all of them ready to cut you in a different way than the last. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked softly.

“My mom’s moonberry surprise. You can get it at any café in the Silvergrove, and Ethari always made it for my birthday, but no one made it quite like her.” A wet, mirthless laugh tore from her throat. “Isn’t that stupid? She and my dad are gone forever, and I’m thinking about food. I mean— I had years to get over all this after they were banished. I’ve been getting along without them all this time. I don’t know why it’s all hitting me all over again.”

Callum bit his lip, trying to call on the part of him that had been born from a poet, trying to call on the words that would make her feel not only understood but heard. 

“My first memory of my dad is also my last one,” he said softly.

Rayla stiffened in his arms, turning around to look at him.

“It’s actually my first memory ever. Mom told me Dad was holding me, and she was holding him, so we were all together in a knot. It’s really hazy, but I can feel… arms around me, this sense of warmth. This wet breathing— my dad, probably, or maybe my mom crying. And then… stillness.” Callum sighed. “My only memory of my dad was of him dying. I shouldn’t miss him, right? I’ve lived my whole life without him, practically, and I had Harrow to fill in the gaps he left. But there are… times when I want to be held, but no one does it quite right. Foods that my mom says I’ve loved all my life, things he made, that just don’t taste as good as they should. Conversations I have with him when I can’t sleep, even though I have no idea how he’d reply.”

He paused, waiting for Rayla to step on the bridge he’d built between them, to offer her own feelings on the difference between her birth parents and her adoptive ones, the ways grief had crept into her own life. Instead, her response came from an entirely different quarter. 

“Your very first memory,” she rasped, “is of being left.” She closed her eyes tightly. “I told myself I was being so noble, so sacrificing, and I left you. Just like our parents did to us.”

Callum cupped her face and gently brought it to his, pressing a quick, soft kiss against her lips. “No, you didn’t,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “You’re right here.”

Feeling her brow wrinkle in confusion, he pulled back and took her hand, tugging her to her feet. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

They slipped out of the Nexus’s guest bedroom and into the garden, wrapping their arms around each other as a defense against the chill in the wind. Rayla followed him silently down a stone stairwell, coming to a stop with him when they reached the metal bench at its base. 

“Do you remember this place?” Callum asked.

She nodded. “It’s where we really talked for the first time about what happened to the king.”

“That’s right.” Callum drew her down to sit on the bench, facing him, in the exact position they’d been in two years before. “That day… it was the worst day I’ve ever had, aside from when I found out about my mom. Even worse than the day I read your letter. Because being left by someone is awful, but there’s nothing worse than knowing for certain they’re never coming back. Of course you’re grieving your parents, Rayla. It’s a different kind of loss.

“I was so angry with you when you first came back, because as the years had gone by, I’d begun to believe you were the second kind of gone, and it was almost too much to bear. I thought, if I pushed you away, I wouldn’t have to deal with that kind of pain again. But the day I got the news about Harrow, when I felt like the emptiness inside me was going to eat me alive, do you know the only thing that made me feel better? It was your arms around me. It was knowing that no matter how much pain I was in, I would still have a champion to fall back on, someone brave and kind and devoted who would always be there to help me carry the weight if it got to be too much.” He leaned forwards and kissed her forehead. “And I was right.”

Rayla had started to cry again, and he gently wiped the tears away. “You were always intending to come back, and you did. I never should have pushed you away, and I’m so glad you never let me. I’m so glad you’re still here. And Rayla, I’m going to be here too. Dealing with this, knowing your parents are really gone for good, it’s not going to be easy. It’s always going to hurt. But I’m going to do everything I can to help you bear it, and I’m going to build a life with you around it. As long as we’re together, we’ll find a way through.”

“And we will be together.”

Rayla’s tears had dried, and her voice was fierce. She took his hand tightly in both of hers and pressed a firm kiss against it. 

“No more losses,” she vowed. 

“Been there, done that,” he agreed, and she actually managed a tiny smile.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I don’t know what comes next. But no matter what it is, I’m going to be right by your side. I promise.”

The corners of Callum’s lips turned up too. “It’s a deal.”

She wrapped her arms around him, and he held her tightly, catching her as she’d caught him, as he knew with a glowing certainty they would do for each other as long as they were able. And they stayed there, fortified against the cold, against the ache of lost souls and the terror of distant smoke, until the first rays of a sunrise blanketed them with their warmth.

[starry-skies-writes]

I cannot get over the parent-child trauma this season

Viren and Claudia and Soren

Callum’s real dad mentioned???

Rayla getting back Runaan while choosing to let go of Tiadrin and Lain

Aaravos and Leola

We’re fucked

Also the fact that Rayla gets to get one (soon to be two) parent back

While Claudia and Soren just lost theirs… (they lost him twice—twice to Dark Magic)

[m4rs-ex3]

im sending you the same list of headcanons i sent tate a few days ago but I'm facing my anxiety and coming off anon just for you mars you're welcome 😅

So here are your Rayllum head canons on a silver platter 😘:

Sometimes when Rayla’s brain is being mean to her and the ✨trauma✨ is hitting her especially hard or when she’s sad, she reverts to her old mentalities of making herself seem small and hiding her feelings and sometimes she ends up sitting with her knees against her chest in a corner of their bedroom. And Callum finds her like that and doesn’t even question, he just sits down next to her in wordless support until she’s ready to talk or is feeling a bit better. 

Anytime Rayla wears a dress and Callum will just be gasping, fumbling for words, speechless and stammering and blushing the whole time and its the funniest thing 🤭

On their wedding day they danced to the same song Harrow and Sarai did. 

HAND HOLDING. ALL THE TIME. Reaching for each others hands, when they’re happy, sad, anxious, scared, excited, ALL THE TIME. 

And they play with each others fingers. Just absentmindedly but they do. 

There’s a scar on Rayla’s shoulder and Callum loves to kiss it. Just gently whenever he can, he’ll give it a little kiss. 

Sometimes Ez does something thats so much like their mom (or dad) that after he’s gone (so he doesn’t see) Callum will just burst into tears. And Rayla will pull him into her tiny frame and let him cry against her shoulder and kiss his head until he’s calmed down a little. 

In the middle of the night when one of them has had a nightmare and the other person has moved to the other side of the bed, they’ll also move to that side. So in the morning, both of them are cuddling on one side of the bed. 

They will both rant/complain to the other. Like one of them will be pacing back and forth just ranting and the other will be sitting on the bed or wherever totally invested in the rant. 

three words. MORE STAR-GAZING DATES.

if there's anything else, i'll send it to you 😘

why thank you

i like imagining him walking into the room, seeing her, leaving without a word, coming back with blankets, pillows, and snacks and just curling up next to her to read, all with a completely blank expression

unfortunately she can't wear them that often because the amount of walls callum walks into becomes dangerous

that's beautiful but also i haven't been able to stop thinking about the potential for a parallel between rayllum and tiadrin + lain dancing in the meadow

literally. it's absolutely disgusting /pos

them absent-mindedly observing each other's fingers out of fascination is just so ASDFSAEFJGASHOKJ

i've mentioned this personal hc before but i just know that she has like hundreds of tiny scars and he has memorized ALLLLL of them. he could draw up a map

correct. sad

eventually they get like a big ass california king-sized bed and yet they still sleep like it's a twin

one of em will be talking about how they want to skin some asshole alive and the other will be dreamily gazing at them like "you are so hot 💖"

well yes. they both end up with an encyclopedic knowledge of constellations and everyone else is just like "why do you know that" (to rayla, anyway)

thank you for your service 🫡

[raayllum]

The Coin / Moon Fam plotline: a Structural Analysis

There's been some stuff in the tags recently about people being bummed over how long the Moon Fam / coin plot line has taken, and while it's an understandable perspective (particularly with how long hiatuses can feel between seasons), when looking at TDP as one complete story... the Coin / Moon Fam plot line hasn't actually taken that long, and is one of the most consistently developed plot threads / relationships in the show - and here's why.

This meta is broken down into three subheadings labelled, "Series Layout," "Plot Relevancy," and "The Trio('s emotional arcs)".

Series Layout

First things first, the fact of the matter is that the only season that didn't continue the coin plotline at all has been S2. Every other season has had something. This is pretty unique as outside character journeys or relationship development, not much besides overarching plot carries between season to season. Callum's arc is a mage and Ezran as king is ongoing, but the coin plotline has developed more consistently per season than emphasis on Ezran and Rayla getting one-on-one scenes together (which they haven't since S2). So the official breakdown is this:

1x01-1x03: Runaan and his relationship with Rayla are developed. He is taken prisoner while she goes on the mission with the boys.

1x05: Rayla shares the backstory of her parents failing to protect the egg. This is the first and last time she talks directly about her family until S3.

1x08: The coins are introduced in relation to Aaravos and the mirror, specifically. Runaan knows something of what the mirror is. He is coined.

3x03: While Runaan is believed to be dead, it is shown to the audience that he is stuck between life and death in the Lotus pond.

3x08: We see Lain and Tiadrin. It is implied they are coined.

3x09: Viren has the coins, taunting Rayla about them. This likewise teases that her parents were coined and reminds us that Runaan is too.

4x07: We learn about the quasar diamonds, which is set up for S5. Rayla also mentions how Runaan used moon opals to create illusion spells.

4x08: Rayla offers to sacrifice her blades and explains their connection to Runaan and Ethari, and how she believes she won't ever see them again. This is pretty blatant setup for the next episode in which

4x09: Rayla tries to save and then receives the coins from Claudia. This is also when it is finally confirmed that Lain and Tiadrin were coined as well. She and Stella escape Umber Tor (this is also how Rayla learns about Stella's portal powers).

5x01: Rayla investigates the dungeons to find out what happened to Runaan / how the coins work. She finds a 'mystery human' in a 4th coin. She determines that while she wants to help her family, she can't bring herself to prioritize it while the world is still in danger and that Callum and Ezran need her.

5x02: We meet the mystery human and find out that he is Kpp'Ar, Viren's old mentor. Rayla uses Runaan's bow and Ethari's arrows (thanking the latter) to defend herself against a corrupted banther.

5x04: Rayla tells Callum the truth about the coins and her pain concerning them. He immediately wants to help her and finds a potential solution concerning the coins: quasar diamonds at the Starscraper. Callum intends to personally free them himself and risks all of their present lives to get the information.

5x05: Karim summons the Bloodmoon Huntress, Kim'Dael, to do his bidding. As we know thanks to the graphic novel of the same name, she has history with Rayla, Runaan, and Ethari.

TDP loves to set things up, add to it a little for a season, and then make it a major focus.

Think of how Claudia and Soren didn't see their dad again after 1x06 until 3x03 - that's about 14 episodes, roughly half of Arc 1! Or how nothing that Viren does in S1 or S2 affects the trio at all until his kids catch up with Callum, Ezran, and Rayla in 2x02, or his own actions until close to 3x04 and 3x08 - once again, seasons apart.

Thus, the breaks in between the Moon Fam development makes sense, even if as laid out before, Rayla's relationship with them and the coins are developed 4/5 seasons. In particular, Rayla's relationship with Runaan and Ethari are more developed and emphasized, additionally, than her relationship with her biological parents. And what's more, thanks to both the Nova Blade and the Quasar Diamonds being rumoured to be at the Starscraper, let's talk about

Plot Relevancy

As soon as we'd learned there was a fourth coin, I assumed that Kpp'Ar was imprisoned inside it, simply because 1) he's close to Viren, 2) he 'mysteriously disappears,' and 3) his name sounds like fucking copper. It is implied in the Book Two: Sky novelization that Kpp'Ar has Plot Relevant Information about Aaravos (and possibly the relic staff) as well as whatever Viren did to save Soren (and his own dark magic misdeeds).

The novelization confirms that Kpp'Ar had a box that perfectly matched the one Aaravos uses inside the mirror for the bug pal spell. Kpp'Ar is also a master of puzzles and could very well be the descendant of the Jailer, who created the now infamous puzzle of the prison, in addition to having a wide berth of magical knowledge.

This implied connection to the prison would make the most sense if Kpp'Ar gets out before Aaravos is freed, and Aaravos will have to be freed in season six. And if Kpp'Ar is getting out of his coin, then the Moon fam are also getting out of theirs before the season finale.

There's also the Kim'Dael plotline to consider. While she is a menace in S5, Janai implies that she is not at her full powers, claiming, "This is a monster you do not want unleashed." Given that Karim has the sun seed and an army, he will likely become King of Lux Aurea and able to free Kim'Dael in S6 as well. This sets up the Moon fam all working together with Rayla to defeat her in S7.

So thanks to Kpp'Ar and Kim'Dael, the Moon fam is tied to two ongoing plotlines that have to get underway sooner rather than later. They are also three of the few characters to have presumably known what the mirror was. Runaan seems to outright know something ("That mirror? You have found something worse than death") and for Lain and Tiadrin, it is implied, as it seems they stayed behind ultimately to guard the mirror > Zym's egg (given that they tried to have Hendryr take the egg with him) because they knew it falling into the wrong hands could be dangerous. This means that when the three of them do come sprawling out of the coins, they will immediately understand the stakes of Aaravos' imminent or potential release.

The "two relevant plotlines" is under the assumption as well that Callum's pursuit of Star magic in order to free them is not what ultimately leads to him 1) him being possessed (with Rayla being called upon to kill him again, generating a potential interesting conflict with Runaan) or 2) snowballs into being what releases Aaravos. In which case they'd be tethered to Three Plotlines. But in some ways, they already are, because of how Runaan in particular is going to impact each of

The Trio

or why the "Ezran short story indicating Ezran is going to have lots of big nasty feelings about Runaan's rescue and survival is the best thing that could've ever happened, thank you" section. You can read the short story here if you haven't already (and I highly recommend it).

Okay, but why is this a good thing? Well...

We know next season that Callum and Rayla are heading to the Starscraper, likely now that things with Aaravos have resolved enough and/or to get the Nova Blade because things have escalated very quickly. However, as previously discussed, while Callum might do some plot relevant snowball shit to get them out of the coins, from an emotional arc standpoint, he's more likely to struggle with Runaan once the assassin is out. As of now, Callum is wholly dedicated to helping Rayla get her parents out of the coins (as he states and reaffirms in 5x04). The fact the Starscraper also has the Nova Blade is a nice preventative bonus. But this current lack of 'big feelings' means that Rayla was our main emotional tether to how people are Feeling about the coin plotline, from a character standpoint.

Enter Ezran and his anger. Not only does it expand his character, it gives the audience another piece of emotional investment and complication in the coin plotline, even if we're still inclined to be more for freeing Runaan than not (which is where Ez may fall). And it also introduces that complication for Callum.

Rayla and Ezran, and Ezran and Callum, rarely argue. Now Ezran is going to be presumably pitted against something Callum wants to do for Rayla, being torn between the two people he loves the most, with Ezran possibly feeling betrayed by the two people he loves the most.

So now there's an emotional investment with all three of the main characters - for Ezran, his anger in contrast with his hopes for peace; for Callum, devotion to Rayla and more importantly in this vein at least, disagreement with his brother; and of course, Rayla being caught up in magic that may have a steep price to pay in order to free her family (and what Runaan may encourage her to do once he is freed, re: killing Callum).

The brothers have to resolve their conflict; Rayla has to get her family back; Runaan's responses to each of these things, and indeed being freed, opens up a lot more avenues. TDP has never taken the easy way out when it comes to character development and complicated emotion. Viren was saved from a similar fate to his former prisoner so that he could develop further - otherwise why keep a character alive? Runaan (and the others) are going to be freed by the end of S6 if not earlier than the finale by a decent margin, and have enough time to change, stumble, and grow alongside their daughter and her friends - while defeating Kim'Dael together as a family, I think. #Justformerassassinthings

Conclusion

S6 is go time and it's gonna be great, Runaan and Ethari are gonna get a good chunk of screentime together, Runaan is one of the most important driving forces within S6's setup, and they all still have places to go as characters. Thank you goodnight

[quietninjakitty]

I saw a post about the new short story by @ladyandherbooks, and she mentioned Ezran and Callum confronting the fact that their father was killed by a team sent by Zubeia, and it got me thinking about the situation with Rayla and her parents. We don’t know the exact circumstances around their leaving, but I think it’s safe to assume that it was either Zubeia or Avizandum who ordered them to the Storm Spire. (Because we know for sure that they didn’t choose to go of their own free will.) And that sets the stage for some tension with Rayla as well. She watched her parents walk away before she was even ten, on orders from the Draconic Throne to protect someone else’s child instead. And then they “died” on that duty, seven years later. Rayla’s family is extremely important to her, and I don’t really see a way that she’s not quietly angry about that. And maybe we won’t get to see her bring it up, because Moonshadows and assassins seem to have a pretty strong sense of duty towards the Dragon King and Queen. But I still feel like, if Zubeia and Rayla are in close proximity in future seasons for long enough, we might get that conversation. Or maybe Ethari, or even Lain or Tiadrin, might bring it up. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

[yurayuramiharin]

Moonfam Day 2022

"Tales by the table"

My contribution to the Moonfam Day 2022 hosted by @ruthariweek!

Pairings: Runaan/Ethari, Lain/Tiadrin Rating: T TW: Mentions of recreational alcohol consumption (nothing heavy tho)

Accompanied by a silly fanart :3 Happy Moonfam Day to all Ruthari & Laindrin nation!

[ask-ethari-anything]

Hi! You mentioned all the moonshadow genders, and I was wondering if you could give me a list of them and what they represent? Thanks!

Oh, hmmm, that's a lot of genders... Let's see...

Runaan's

Mine

Rayla's

Tiadrin's

Lain's

Andromeda's

Callisto's

Skor's

Ram's

The gender of the baker a few trees over

The head healer's...

All of their genders represent themselves, of course. Surely this is what you meant, yes? *Wholesome Moonshadow chuckle*

[hoothalcyon]

Soo, I saw that post and here are the questions!

Do you think they will get Runaan, Lain and Tiadrin out of the coins?What do you think of it? What are your expectations of s5? What are you most looking forward to in the upcoming season?..

😅

I honestly don't know for sure. I think this journey is my "will they/won't they make my favourite queer character suffer a tragic fate", that many fandoms go through and eh, I guess that's reality. I would hope that Runaan gets out of the coin relatively unscathed, but who knows. I'm trying to be okay with that because I can't handle the stress of trying to micro-manage something that's out of my control.

but, on the bright side, they've really been hinting towards at least a hopeful resolution, so there's that :)

angsty side note, I think that if Rayla had to choose between saving only one or two of the coined elves, she would choose Runaan. sorry Lain & Tiadrin, lmao!! it's because of the closer bond she shares with him. there's more to this hc but that's for another post.

I don't really go into new seasons with expectations, only hopes, because I think that is a slippery slope and part of why part of the fandom went haywire after s4. I trust the writers enough to believe that they'll create something beyond my expectations; in my experience, they often throw curveballs at what I was imagining but do it in a way that works for the story & characters!

most looking forward to hopefully seeing Runaan and/or Ethari, the Shadowpaw (hope it's Ethari's kitty!), Nyx my beloved rascal gf, Rayllum cuteness, the horror scene the writers mentioned a while ago, and ocean adventures!! OH and Domina Profundis!!!

[azissuffering]

Rocks and Water - Chapter 1: Finitude

Moonfam Origins Fic. Begins with Runaan and Lain in the Silvergrove.

Link to Ao3: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24565177/chapters/59325352

The girl was pretty, he supposed, pretty enough that she caught his eye from a hundred yards and a breathless four miles into his training routine. She had a narrowish face and a wire-thin frame that did not match with the easy way she worked over the mass of vine and rock that blocked the forest path some three hundred feet behind him. He didn’t recognize her from his own troupe, but it was common enough for training exercises to overlap, even within the boundary of neighboring communities.

“Hurry up, Lain.”

Runaan rapped him on the shoulder as he passed, which Lain did not appreciate — he did not exactly have a gentle touch. Lain tore his gaze from the girl’s retreating back and hurried to catch up with his errant friend.

Runaan slowed and allowed him to fall in step beside him, and they ran in silence for a while, following the bare path carving through the foliage from decades of drilled training exercises. It was a balmy summer morning, the forest still recovering from the previous night’s rain, and the ground was dangerously slick from wet. The thick canopy would shield the world beneath until high noon, and even still it would be hours yet before the land was comfortably dry. Most would be holed away in their homes at this hour of the morning, and probably for much of the foreseeable day, but sleeping late was a luxury that the guild apprentices did not have. They were young, and thus the rigors not quite as demanding as their elders in their specialized occupations, but they were challenged, still. 

Lain didn’t particularly mind the rain or the demands of his to-be profession, but he knew his friend had different feelings, and he finally saw fit to break the silence with a query after his health.

“How are you doing?” he asked between steps. 

“It’s wet. It’s early. My ankle aches from when you stepped on it yesterday. How am I supposed to feel?” 

Lain rolled his eyes. “Runaan. I meant your sister.” 

Runaan scowled. “What about her?”

Their conversation was momentarily interrupted when, ahead, the ground split into a series of uneven gnolls, empty pockets of earth knotted into the ground as if hacked away with a great axe. It was messy, and obviously artificial, one of the many obstacles that the guild students were to be faced with on the daily.  

“The guildmasters were unhappy this morning,” Runaan muttered, hopping gingerly from foot to foot to avoid slipping. Lain noticed with a pang that he was favoring his right leg. Still, guilty conscience or no, he had a moral duty as “friend” to ensure his partner’s wellbeing. 

“Well, how is she?” 

When there was no response, Lain glanced away from his footwork to find Runaan’s jaw set and lips pressed into a line. 

“Ru —”

“I don’t see how that matters,” he snapped. “It’s not relevant.”  

The ground smoothed over and began a slender slope downwards. In the distance, Lain could just barely make out the lively sounds of morning bustle, shops opening and those stubborn enough to brave the weather. They were nearing the end of the loop. 

“Hey! Runaan!” 

Lain scurried forward and caught hold of Runaan’s arm.  

Runaan shrugged him aside, twitching, but he stopped all the same. 

“Listen, you need to slow down for a second. I —” Lain cut off when he saw Runaan stiffen and sighed. His friend could really use a lesson on emotional vulnerability. He softened his tone and tried again, “I just want to help.”

“I understand that.” His words came out tight, but the fact that he responded at all was promising, from him. “I just don’t think it’s important.”

“Don’t think it’s —” Lain ran a hand through his hair and forced himself to lower his voice. “Runaan, your sister almost died. That’s a very big deal, especially when you choose to pursue the very path that put her there.”

A heavy pause.

“Look, can’t you at least try to explain? You haven’t talked to me the whole week. Actually, you’ve actively avoided me the whole week.”

“I haven’t —”

“Yes, you have, and you weren’t even trying to be discreet. I got stuck with green recruits four days in a row because you were absent on partnering rounds.”

“I needed to think.”

“Well, you’ve had your time, so let’s talk.” 

Runaan looked away, shifted on his feet and glanced back at Lain. “She’s not getting better,” he muttered. “And she won’t talk to me.”

Lain waited.

“It’s not like she’s ever talked to me before.” Runaan huffed a laugh, harsh and scathing, then turned on his heel and began walking again. 

Lain began to protest, but Runaan threw a hand over his shoulder and said, “I’m not evading, but the guildmasters will get suspicious if we’re late. We’ll speak while we walk.”

That was Runaan, thinking about his reputation even while he was hurting. Lain swallowed his sigh and followed. 

Runaan began unprompted this time, which probably meant he was more worried than he let on. “When the blackspine hit her, it got her in the stomach, but she fell on her back. She was unconscious when her troupe brought her back, so they didn’t know how bad it was, but when she woke up, she couldn’t move her legs.” Runaan swallowed hard and turned his head to the sky as if checking the degree of the sun. Of course, he wasn’t. He was just stalling. 

“Go on,” Lain prompted gently. 

Runaan sighed heavily. “The healer said she broke something. He suspects the spinal cord, but it’s not like he’s going to cut her open and check. He doesn’t know if it’s a full break or a damage that will heal naturally, and he said it’s too early to be sure. We’ll only know if her recovery gets better with time.”

“And you worry she won’t,” Lain guessed. 

“No — yes, obviously, but it’s more than that.” Runaan waved a hand through the air. “We’ve...talked about her injury and the possibility of no recovery. Neither of us are happy, obviously, but you know us. We’ve never lied about reality. It’s not our way. It’s the waiting I can’t stand. I wish these weeks would be gone so I could know how to accommodate her.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” Lain touched his shoulder. “Besides, moments like these are the best opportunities for growth. When else would you prompt yourself into juggling dual responsibilities? Family and work?”

“Never,” Runaan muttered. “Precisely because it means I can’t focus properly on either.” 

“Runaan. You have to learn how to do both. Life’s the best teacher, if you’ll just let it guide you.”

Runaan did not respond, and Lain didn’t push him. They walked the last two miles in silence, then paused at the top of the hill that hid them from the view of the rest of the village. 

Runaan turned to Lain and offered him a small smile. 

“I appreciate your help, Lain,” he said, “even if you are a pushy ass about it.”

Lain smiled and pulled him into an unwarranted embrace. “That part just means I care. Now, let’s get back down there before Liam eats our breakfast.” 

*

When they entered the mess hall, they were greeted by Laida’s unhappy timbre. Normally, nothing could stand between an elf just off training and their prospective meal, but as guildmaster and keeper of the twelve that made up their troupe, Laida had just enough authority to do so.

“You’re late,” she said, stepping before them in that imperious way of hers. Despite being a bare inch above five foot, she managed to convey the affluent air of the Dragon King himself. 

“Guildmaster,” Runaan greeted with a respectful tilt of his horns, but his tone belied his apparent regard. “I have to disagree. We’re a full half hour before the deadline, and the hall isn’t even close to full, meaning that even the year-ups haven’t completed their run before us.”

Laida interrupted him with a knock between the horns. It was the sort of reprimand you’d give a child, not a seventeen year old assassin-to-be, and given to such a revered pupil, doubly humiliating. 

“I meant in a personal regard, you twit,” she snapped. “That arrogance will get you flogged by a testier master, Runaan. Curb it now.”

Runaan looked at her, wincing, but the ire in his eyes did not leak into his tone. “Yes, Guildmaster.” 

Laida nodded, then reassessed her stance. “Now, what I meant was that you’ve come in a full fourteen minutes after your usual time. I don’t know what the reason for that could be, given you aren’t lovers, so far as I know —”

Lain spluttered an affronted protest, but Laida plowed right on. 

“Nor have either of you ever been severely impeded by the rain. I’m old enough to know when further prying is necessary, and this is not such a time, but I am giving you fair warning. I placed my repute and career in advocating for you all those years ago. You’re my most promising students, and I expect you both to make it as Knives by next winter’s end. Do not ruin this opportunity with frivolities, do you understand?”

Both Lain and Runaan nodded.

Mollified, Laida stepped aside and let them pass. 

They did so cautiously, then hastened their step once they’d passed her. Laida had a glare like forge-heated steel. They slipped past the first-years along their way to their corner table, and Lain was uncomfortably aware of their bright eyes and hopeful expressions, knowing that such youthful optimism would soon be ripped from them and gutted beneath the guildmasters’ scrupulous attentions. Softness had no place in an assassin’s life until they were well and truly broken in, and at that point it was enforced merely to preserve one’s sanity. 

They approached the table in the corner, and with the already seated ten, plus Lain and Runaan’s two, it was the least crowded but for the tenth-years who had lost three in the year-end cuts and were now down to a scant seven. The occupants were mostly quiet, focused on their meals, but they chipped into the main conversation every now and then so as not to be excluded. 

Liam was, as usual, hollering about something or other, to Talis, who was not paying him attention other than the occasional nod. He cut off when he noticed them approaching, face breaking out into a broad grin.

He half rose in his chair with his wave. “Lain, Runaan! About time! I was debating with my friend here whether or not you’d been devoured by a blackspine, them being so prevalent this year — ow.”

The girl on his right had elbowed him sharply in the ribs and was now glaring at him with gray eyes gone furious. 

“What?” Liam cried.

“Not funny,” she said mildly. 

Lain shot a glance at Runaan just in time to notice him forcibly unclench his jaw. Sure not to let his worry show, he plastered on an easy smile and slung an arm over his shoulders.

“That’s alright, Talis,” he said, “I’m sure he wasn’t thinking of how it’d affect Runaan when he said it.” 

“No, he just wasn’t thinking, as usual,” Talis said, but she returned to her fruit without saying more.

“I didn’t even do anything,” Liam muttered, and Lain did his best to ignore him.

Jara scooted over to offer him space, and Lain seated himself with a gracious smile, pulling Runaan along with him. Runaan settled with a grimace. He preferred to sit on the end of the bench, but they were lucky to receive a space at all. They were taught early to show no pity to comrades come late to breakfast; the guildmasters’ punishment. Luckily, their troupe was closer than most, and Laida enjoyed spiting the system enough to encourage their small rebellions.

“So,” Liam began, “can I ask why you two are so late, or will I get punished for that, too?”

Lain helped himself to a pair of bread loaves and what was left of the fruit and filled a second plate for Runaan. Runaan took it with that same confused gratitude he always expressed whenever someone offered him a kindness. Lain patted him on the head before turning to address Liam.

“No reason in particular,” he said. “We found a dry patch amidst the wet, and we got to talking.” 

“Oooh.” Liam pounded a triumphant fist on the table. “I knew it. You hear that, Talis? They got to talking —”

“That’s not a euphemism,” Talis interrupted, but Liam wasn’t listening. 

He pointed at Runaan. “I always knew you swung the other way, but Lain — that’s a surprise. Wasn’t he into that one girl from the Highgrove last year?”

Lain colored. “Hold on —”

“Oh, yeah,” Rhys piped up with a mouth full of ham. “The one with the pretty eyes. She clocked him in the jaw for staring.” 

Liam cackled. “That’ll teach you!”

“Actually, not,” Runaan added. “I caught him staring at her ass just an hour ago.”

Lain spun around to look at him. “I thought you were running.” 

“I still have eyes, Lain,” Runaan said hotly. “You’re not discreet with your affections.” 

“Except with Runaan apparently — ” Liam began but cut off with a yelp when Talis saw fit to intercede again with the sharp end of her fist.

“Would you cut it out?” she snapped. “You’re not funny. Next time, I’ll break your arm instead of bruise it.” 

“Oh, she’s mad now.” Rhys, who had been scooping butter into his mouth by the spoonful, paused to speak. “Better listen, Liam. You know she’s serious when she threatens violence.”

“I’m always serious,” Talis interjected, “I just don’t like idiots who can’t close their mouths long enough to let a thought interject once in a while.” 

“STUDENTS.” 

Farin’s exclamation, animated by his respectable reservoir of magic, jarred most conversation by its root. Youth or not, they were still military trained. 

‘THE MEAL IS CONCLUDED. YOU MAY STEP OUTSIDE FOR PAIR DRILLS. YOU WILL BEGIN AS STUDENTS TO YOUR YEAR-UPS, FOLLOWED BY MONITORED INSTRUCTION WITH YOUR YEAR-DOWNS.” Farin nodded at the now-silent room. “DISMISSED.”

The room stood as a single unit, then began filling for the exit in uneven rows. Guildmasters called for troupes over the sound of marching feet and scattered conversation. Runaan trailed after Lain with a hand on his elbow. He wasn’t overly fond of crowds, and he preferred a tactile stimulus. Lain was glad to be of service. 

“Over — fuck — over here, damn it!” 

Laida’s flushed face popped through the crowd before disappearing again, an airborne fish dropped back into the waves. Lain tracked her by the disgruntled expressions pointed down, the unwitting leader to Runaan and the rest of his fellows. 

“This way — shit, fuck, just follow me,” was Laida’s greeting, to which Lain did not give a response other than a passive nod.

When they’d squeezed out through the hundred bodies and come out into the grassy courtyard that served as the training yard, Laida drew in a breath and threw her hands to the heavens.

“Moon and fucking shadow! That gets worse with every passing year!” She took in one last suffering inhale before her posture shifted and her tone went crisp. “Right. To business. They’ve put me in charge of this team, so Silha’s brats are mine, now.”  

Indeed, a slow stream of bodies came to stand beside those already gathered, tentative and guarded as Moonshadows were with those they didn’t know well. There were fifteen in total; Lain recognized a few faces, but most were strangers. Laida gave them a few minutes to gather themselves before she began again. 

“As the numbers are uneven, we will have to amend the rules in order to comply with the requirements of a pair drill,” Laida said. “Now, be honest now, who is the best among the lot of you?” 

There was a moment of uneasy silence, a murmur passed through the crowd. Two stepped forward confidently, one with mild prompting and a final unsure glance thrown over his shoulder, and the last was shoved out from behind her friend with barely concealed annoyance. 

“Four of you,” Laida nodded. “That makes this easy, then. Each one of you will take three of my recruits; in succession, not all together. Don’t get excited.” Laida began to assign their troupe to each of the four leaders. When she reached Runaan and Lain, she said, “Runaan to Saia, Lain to Malik. I’m sorry to separate you, but I think it’s unfair to have you both on a single person, don’t you agree?” 

Lain nodded sagely. “Of course, Guildmaster.” 

Laida gave him a wan smile. “You just agree no matter what I say.” Before Lain could voice a word of protest, she leaned in and whispered, “Just between the three of us: wipe the floor with them, won’t you?” 

 Runaan smiled wolfishly. “Of course, Guildmaster.”

*

It was high noon when they switched from roles. Though the physical tax was not the same, Runaan found it far more exhausting playing teacher than student, restraining his abilities as opposed to stretching them. He knew how to speak plainly, which he thought more efficient than the flowered words of encouragement Lain offered, and his partner was an amiable enough student, but still. By the end of the day, he was drenched in sweat and his temper was sharp enough to cut himself on.

Still, he dragged himself to meet Lain at the edge of the training yard, as they always did at the end of the day. Thankfully, Lain didn’t seem to be in the mood for a chat, merely yelled, “See you, tomorrow!” and dashed off in that happy shadowpaw way of his. 

Runaan shook his head on a smile and turned for home. 

His home was on the southern edge of the grove, nestled between two firs and only a handful of steps from the ritual pool. It was a melancholy house, shadowed as it was and set beside a place of mourning, and as Runaan stepped closer, he felt the familiar gloom more apt than ever. 

He stepped inside and shut the door with deliberate strength, for between his taciturn air and his sister’s even quieter nature, the sound of the door served just as well as a shouted hello. He pulled off his boots and left them stacked in tandem with a second, smaller pair before padding off for the kitchen. 

It was a small house, but the threadbare furnishings made it seem overly large. Indeed, one would not fully know the effect a soft chair and a bit of upholstery had on the dreary emptiness of a room until one stepped into Runaan’s house. It was bare, void of color or personality save the staple necessities to survive, an oven, a cooling box with enchantments carved down the side, a smattering of cutlery amidst other, more poignant knives. 

Runaan pulled a clean plate off the rack beside the sink, kneeled on the black chestnut of his floor and pulled the cooling box open. Inside was a half-eaten torte, a jug of milk, and a variety of fruits kept fresh by the enchantments. He stacked the plate with fruit and the bread left over from their pre-breakfast, then headed for the hallway. 

He found Nia in much the same position as he’d left her, except when he’d left her she hadn’t had inkstains smudged across her nose and hands, nor had there been a mountain of crumpled papers littering the floor like the Silvergrove’s first snowfall.

Runaan paused in the doorway and raised an eyebrow. “What’s all this?” he asked.

“Boredom,” Nia said flatly. She hurled something at the wall beside his head, and he tracked its trajectory from her hand until the point it came to rest at the space between his feet. He reached down and picked it up off the floor, then held it up between two fingers for examination.

“A pen?” he said.

“Yes, it’s what people use to write,” she retorted dryly. “Hands are for more than knives, remember?”

Runaan’s lips thinned. He let the pen slip from his fingers and kicked the door shut behind him. He didn’t have any particular reason to do so — it was just the two of them — but he’d acquired the habit and had never seen reason to part with it. Besides, he felt more secure with four walls around him. 

As he approached the bedside, Nia reached above her head and took hold of the bedframe with both hands. She heaved herself upright without outward effort, then arranged her legs beneath her as one might a stuffed doll. She scowled while she did it, then scowled some more when Runaan dropped the plate in her lap. 

She prodded at the bread. “Leftovers?” 

Runaan perched on the edge of the bed and settled his own frown across his lips. “That’s all we had. I haven’t been to the market since last week.” 

Nia grunted and prodded at the bread before stuffing it into her mouth. “So, what’s new?” she mumbled. 

“You could’ve asked before you started chewing,” Runaan said. “And nothing much. The guildmasters said something about a year skip for us, so that’s new.”

Nia choked on her mouthful and sat upright, pounding on her stomach. Runaan watched with mild interest.  

“A year skip?” she managed after a moment. “Runaan, that’s not something they do for just anyone.”

“I am aware.” 

“They didn’t even do that for me.” She stared at him. “You said ‘us.’ Who else are they considering?”

“Lain.”

She snorted. “Of course.”

Runaan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem surprised.” 

“No. If anyone could stand up to you, it’s him. You were first at everything, but he was always right on your heels.”

“Barring you. You were always better at everything.”

“Well.” Nia shoved a chunk of sweetmelon into her mouth. “You won’t have to worry about that now.” 

“About that.” Runaan tucked a leg beneath himself and set his gaze to the ground. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you —”

“No.” 

He looked up. “Pardon?”

“I said no. We’ve talked about it so many times I can hear your words before you say them. ‘Nia, it’s worrying, the way you shut down. Nia, don’t be a pessimist; we don’t even know all the facts yet. Nia, you know Mum wouldn’t want you to be down on yourself over something you can’t fix.’ Gods, Runaan, you’re like one of those self-esteem novels Dad gave me when I was thirteen.”

Runaan, whose jaw had tightened with each word that escaped her mouth and now felt like a wound spring, straightened. “Well, I’ll take my leave, then,” he said tightly. He made to get off the bed, but Nia spoke up again.

“Wait.”

He paused without looking.

She sighed heavily. “Stay there, you dramatic ass. I’m bored as all hell, and you’re probably the only entertainment I’ll get for the rest of the week.”

Runaan hid a vicious smile and scooted backwards on his hands. He waited.

“Toff’s putting his foot down about my rest period,” she said after a moment. “He told me this morning: three weeks minimum.”

Runaan frowned. “That’s not what he said two days ago.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s why I specified.”

He hesitated, and Nia leaned forward to swat him. “Stop that. I’m not made of glass.”

His lips twitched. “No, you are very much not.” He sobered again. “I just wondered...if the healer had mentioned anything new about your recovery?

Nia shook her head. “The same as always. He can’t make any decisive statements until he sees how my body adapts to the injury.” 

Runaan nodded. He twisted halfway to look her over again, and his tone lightened considerably. “How’s the pain? Have you been doing the exercises like he said?” 

“The pain?” Her brow furrowed. “There is none. Didn’t I tell you this already?”

She had, in fact, multiple times, but it was hard to remember that someone as vivid as Nia was also the bearer of two non-functioning limbs. His mind couldn't seem to pair the childhood memories of a girl that leapt from the rooftop of the bakery onto his father’s waiting back with the whip-thin approximation lying in a sickbed. Perhaps that was a flaw innate to his own self. 

“I suppose you have,” he murmured.

Nia yawned and set the empty plate aside. “Why don’t you read to me from that book you like. The flowery shit. ‘Shakefist,’ or whatever.”

“Shakespeare?”

“Yeah, that.” She leaned back against the headboard and shut her eyes. “It’s nice. You have a good voice for it.” 

Runaan sat very still and repeated what she’d said in his mind. Nia didn’t say things like that. To anyone, ever. “Of course,” he heard himself say, but it was from a very far away place. 

He leaned over and reached an arm under the bed. He returned with a thick tome in his hand. 

“Which one would you like?” he asked, blowing dust from the cover. 

“The Rape of Lucrece,” she said without hesitation. 

Runaan flipped through the book and began to read.

*

Lain crept along the cobbled path that ran between his mother’s garden. He moved quick and quiet, carefully avoiding sticks and fallen debris that might alert the house’s occupants to his presence. At the door, he paused, listening.

It was quiet inside, save the low burr of his father’s voice, and dark save the flicker of candlelight and the luminescence offered by the fading sun. Satisfied, Lain reared back on his heels and drew the door open. 

His father did not react at his appearance, but his mother started, jolting upright before sinking back into the plush of her seat. She gave him an absent smile before returning her attention to the table. Lain spared them a glance as he shucked his coat off. They were playing tak, as usual, a game of stones.

When his boots were lying in a heap by the door, coat slung across the open closet door, he stood there in the foyer for a moment. The stones made little thunks when they hit the wood of the gameboard. 

“I’m back,” he offered, hoping he might rouse one or both of his idle parents to attention.

“So we heard,” his father said and moved one of his stones into an offensive position. “Draw or idle?”

“Idle,” his mother said, to which his father laughed. 

“You know I take the win when you play defensive.”

His mother reached across the table and tapped a finger against his cheek. “Well, I’m about to remedy that, don’t you worry.” 

“We’ll see.” 

Lain watched them blankly, and a sudden anger rose within him. They hadn’t done anything specific to warrant it. Their mere existence peeved him. Always idle, always waiting for something to happen while the world spun circles around the pocketed bubble they’d built for themselves.

“Lain.” 

He glanced up at his father’s voice, momentarily pulled from his thoughts. 

“What are you doing standing there like that? Why don’t you come over and greet your mother like a proper son?” 

His jaw clenched. “Yes, Father.” 

He crossed the foyer stiffly and moved around to stand beside his mother. She held her hand out in traditional greeting, and he took it between his. 

She looked up from her game and smiled at him, the brown of her eyes twinkling merrily. “And how was your day, son?” she asked him.

“I’m continuing with the guild.”

Her eyes went round as saucers, her mouth fallen open in shock. His father looked not much better. Lain savored it. That had gotten a rise out of them. 

“ ‘Continue.’ ” His mother breathed the word from somewhere very far away. 

“Lain,” his father rumbled, “what nonsense are you speaking?” 

“It’s not nonsense, father. You know I never lie to you.” 

His father’s eyes narrowed dangerously. For all his flaws, stupidity was not one of them. “Explain.”

“Laida vouched for me,” he said. “Runaan and I are to join the Highgrove at winter’s end.” He left out the part about them not being officially approved by the Council. Laida’s intuition was right nine times out of ten, and besides, he was enjoying his parents’ discomfort.

“No, no, that can't be right," his mother muttered. "You're good, but you were never that good. You're a farmer, like your father."

"Listen to your mother, Lain," his father said. "You had your fun, but you're almost grown now. It's time you started thinking about the future."

"Future? What future?" Lain spat. "Will I sit here whittling away the days in the garden? Or perhaps you'd like me to get married." He snorted. "You've probably already found someone. Is that what you want? To drag another elf into this stain of a family?"

His mother seemed taken aback at his vitriol, and his father rose from his chair, a storm on his brow. "That's enough!" he bellowed. "You don't come into this house yelling profanities and threats. I raised you better than that. Your mother deserves your respect, and I damn well think I should too."

Lain laughed scathingly. " 'Respect is earned,' you always say. Best toughen up, Father."

His father stared at him a moment before shoving back from the table and storming across the living room. He threw open the door and pointed out into the night. "Get out of here," he snapped, "and don't return until you can be civil."

Lain sneered in his face. "Yes, Father."

*

Runaan sat upright. He cocked his ears and listened. Night owls, crickets, a singular pesky lyrebird, frogs and newts, nothing out of the ordinary. Except lyrebirds were diurnal and it was well past dusk, and he didn't think he'd ever heard one sound a mating call two months after the season. 

"Not again," he muttered and leaned over to pull the window open. As expected, the moonlight illuminated a lonely figure standing with hands still cupped over his mouth in the shade of his family's elm tree. 

As he watched, the figure dropped his hands to his sides and offered a lopsided grin. "Thank the Moon," Lain said. "I was one call away from scaling your roof and climbing in through your attic."

*

He ordered Lain to sit at the kitchen table while he set about making tea. "What was it this time?"

Runaan kept his voice low, wont to wake Nia but also because it felt wrong to raise his voice in the sobered ambiance they'd gathered between the two of them. 

Lain traced the whorls along the table's grain, gaze downcast and thoughtful. "I got cocky when I shouldn't have," he said

Runaan hummed and walked back to the table carrying two cups. He set one down in front of Lain. "That sounds more like me than you."

Lain wrapped his hands around the mug but didn't drink. "Perhaps you've rubbed off on me."

"Is that a good thing?"

"They just make me so angry," he explained. "My whole life, they've done the same thing. Farm crops, play tak, sleep, repeat. According to them, that's all they ever wanted or will want." He shook his head in disgust. "They have no ambition. I don't understand."

Runaan eyed him. He nodded at Lain's still-full mug. "Drink some of that, and we'll talk."

Lain looked down at the mug as if he’d forgotten it, then took an idle sip. 

Runaan waited until he’d downed half of it before speaking again. “You’ve explained your upset to me. Really, you’ve explained it every time you’ve come here. Still — do you think perhaps you’ve grown complacent?” 

Lain paused with his lips an inch from the porcelain rim of his cup. “What?” 

Runaan pursed his lips. “Do you ever stop to think that you’re lucky for having them at all?”

“Oh.” Lain set his cup down. “Runaan. I’m so sorry. Of course, I come in here complaining about my parents when you have none at all and your only sister has just had a scare with death — careless. I’m sorry. Do you need me to leave or —”

Runaan held up a hand. “You’re much too quick to pick up the blame,” he commented. “I ask out of curiosity, not as a criticism. Do you?”

Lain fell back into his seat, brow furrowing in thought. “Not really? Parents are just something you take for granted, I guess. Most people have them, so you kind of just assume you should, too.” He paused. “I’m sorry if that’s hurtful.” 

“No,” Runaan said. “I think I understand. It’s how I feel about Nia. She’s always been there. Why shouldn’t she be? It’s only recently that I’ve been thinking otherwise.” 

“Yeah… How is she?” 

Runaan looked heavenwards, fingers clacking against the side of his cup. “She’s fine, and she can probably hear us talking about her, so best not.” 

“Right. Sorry.” Lain hesitated. “And...what about you?” 

Runaan looked at him. “You asked me this morning.”

“Well you didn’t exactly answer.” 

Runaan scoffed. “Yes, I did. How is ‘I’m stressed’ not an answer?” 

Lain pointed at him with a triumphant smile. “Yes, good! You’re stressed. Tell me more.” 

“Would you like a list of my everyday peeves?” he said dryly.

“Have you got one?”

“No.”

“You should try it. Writing is good for emotional expression.” 

“Lain, sometimes I wonder how you got hooked into the Guild at all when your calling as a poet is so clearly laid out before you. You have that overripe-speak, pain-in-my-ass dichotomy down pat.”

Lain shrugged. “I’m good at hitting people, I guess.”

After, they placed their dirtied cups in the sink to be washed in the morning, and Runaan led Lain down the hall to the far room. He took a quick pit stop in the closet for a fresh pair of linens and a down pillow that he never used because the softness disagreed with him. 

“You’re putting me on your couch again?” Lain asked

“Yes. As a rule, we don’t have guests. No guests, no bed.” Runaan finished tucking the covers between the cushions and retreated with a flourish. “All pretty for you.”

Lain shuffled over and sat atop it gingerly. “You know I appreciate you always doing this for me,” he said earnestly.

“So you’ve mentioned.”

“But really, Runaan.”

Runaan rolled his eyes and walked to the doorway. “Goodnight, Lain.” 

*

“Runaan.”

Nia’s voice came through the crack in her door. He mourned his empty bed for a moment before firming his resolve and slipping inside.

Nia was sitting upright against the bedframe with her eyes turned towards the window. She seemed to like that position. He wondered if she missed being outside, the way she looked so intently. She rolled her head around to face him when the door opened.

“He’s alright,” she said.

Runaan leaned against the doorjamb. “He is.”

“Why’s he here in the first place?” 

“You were listening.”

“I was, but you got quieter towards the end, so fill me in.” 

Runaan said, “He didn’t explain himself very well. Something about being angry at his parents, the usual. Probably offended his father.”

Nia grunted. “What do you suppose it’s like, having two living parents, yet never being intelligent enough to appreciate them?”

“Don’t be cruel,” Runaan snapped. “We all have our struggles to deal with, and Lain deserves my kindness more than you do.” 

She snorted. “Don’t pretend, Runaan. We both know you value duty too seriously to abandon your family bonds.”

Runaan clenched his jaw. “Yes.” 

They were silent for a moment. 

“But, actually,” Nia said, “he’s not hurt?” 

“No, his parents aren’t like that.” Runaan shook his head. “Honestly, I remember them being fairly pleasant the few times I met them. I’m not sure why he’s on such poor terms with them.” 

Nia half-lifted herself into the air, then eased onto her back. The bed creaked defiantly. “Different ideas on how to live,” she said. “Your Lain has plans. His parents, it seems, do not, or they do, just the wrong ones. Clashing temperaments. Just imagine what it would be like if I was nice.”

“Can you imagine?” Runaan asked dryly. “Surely we wouldn’t get along nearly so well as we do.”

“Nah, you would be confused out of your mind. You’re used to taking my beatings.”

Runaan’s lip twitched. He fumbled the doorknob and half-slipped outside. Nia was already rolling onto her side, back facing him.

“Goodnight, Runaan,” she muttered into her pillow. “And look after yourself, would you? Now that I’m not around to do it?”

He swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat and managed a hurried “Goodnight” before he shut the door behind him. 

[skyfireflight]

So after Rayla's parents became part of the Dragonguard at the Storm Spire, did they get to go back and visit at all? I mean, we know about the birthday letter every year, but did they ever get to go and see how their daughter was growing up? Or did they just. Miss all that.

[madefate-a]

don’t reblog // consider: ethari is the only one in the chaos quad who can reliably & sustainably hold their alcohol 

[ask-runaan-anything]

I’ve had a sad day got any sweet ethari stories?

I'm sorry to hear you had a sad day. Here's your story; straight from the heart.

I've mentioned in the past that I experience the world differently from most others. I am neurodiverse. This made it hard for others who are not like me to relate to me and understand my sensitivities as well as my ways of seeing the world. All the more encouraging for my capacity to isolate myself from others, as you can imagine.

But Ethari. Ethari is different and always has been.

A few months into our friendship and courtship, he began noticing me in a different way. He would study me for longer, holding his gaze as I spoke, especially if I didn't make eye contact. I wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or judged (because of my own insecurities, not because of his own doing). When I made a sour face and turned away after eating a certain type of food I disliked, he seemed to notice very keenly.

It was only after half a week of this new habit that he spoke to me about it.

We were on a walk just outside of the Silvergrove when I'd brushed up against a piney bush, sending waves of an unfavourable sensation through me. I tensed harder than as if it were something normally distressing, something I don't typically do. The illusion of control and self-assurance and all. Ethari looked at me for a long moment with a curious tip of his head, causing me to look away and straighten, appearing as nothing had happened.

"Runaan, do some sensations and textures hurt you?" he asked.

My cheeks reddened. "Yes. Do they hurt you as well?"

"Not as much as it seems that pine did to you," he replied, as if he had his reply ready before we began speaking. I faltered, looking at the grass with shame. "It's nothing to feel bad about," he reassured me. "I wanted to talk to you, and help understand you on a deeper level."

I grew warm this time, my gaze flitting to meet his eyes before looking away again; too much, too soon. "Ah...how might that be?"

He stopped walking. Without thinking, I did as well.

"Runaan...are you autistic?" he asked.

I froze. I'd never heard that word before. "I...I don't know what that is."

He made a defeated sound. Reaching for my shoulder, he held his hand there--a gentle, supportive weight.

"Would you like me to tell you?"

I waited a long moment, processing his words. Finally, I nodded, and he gestured for me to sit down along with him. I did so, quietly fearing that I was in some sort of trouble or that he had seen something in me that could cause him to leave.

We sat cross legged next to each other, Ethari staying close under the shade of the willow tree.

"Autism is nothing to be scared of," he finally said, breaking the silence. "It's simply a way of seeing and experiencing the world." His voice was gentle yet confident, and he spoke with his body, as if he knew I didn't have the spoons to hold his gaze just yet. "I only ask because I've noticed that certain sounds and textures disturb you, and I only want to be a good friend, and help reduce your stress."

I studied each blade of grass as he spoke, keenly aware of my reddening ears. My heart felt as if it could melt under the sun at that very moment. "Alright."

"You don't have to use labels if you don't want to. But I think it's worth identifying what troubles you, and giving yourself the space and dignity to carve out a place for yourself in the world that you feel is the most comfortable for you. I know you'd want the same for me, and for Tiadrin and Lain."

I nodded. Although I couldn't see myself honouring my own needs and comfort, I knew my friends deserved as much. "You're right." Finally, I looked into his eyes, and saw a warm beacon of light shining back at me. He was so kind, and I could clearly see the genuine love and care behind his gaze. I returned his smile, and he shifted ever so closer.

"Is there anything you'd like to know about autism?" he asked, taking the role of mentor.

I tipped my head, thinking. Before I wanted to know anything about myself, I wanted to learn about him.

"How do you know about this?" I asked.

He smiled fondly. "Some of my siblings are like you. I've grown up learning about their experiences, and I have all of their needs kept right," he tapped his head, "here."

I smiled again. "I see...that's wonderful, Ethari. You're a good sibling to them. They're lucky to have you."

He put his hand on my knee for a moment, my heart rate flaring as he did so. "Thank you. I love them--I'd do anything for them."

I felt every word in my heart. I thought again, trying to wrap my head around the truth he'd just gifted to me. "Hmm...what else about me tells you I'm autistic?"

"Well, it presents differently in unique elves. But if I had to make comparisons, I suppose I also caught on because you have difficulty making eye contact sometimes. And you need time to think things through--a good trait to have, I'd say."

I looked away again, curling my arms around my knees, which were now beginning to press against my chest. I suddenly felt seen--if Ethari could see my differences, who's to say that many others hadn't done so as well? Perhaps that was why they kept their distance...

You see, this is the spiral I went down. But Ethari noticed it right away.

He put his hand to my shoulder again. "Runaan, it's okay to be different. Just because you feel this way doesn't mean you should hide it. Nobody should have to hide how they feel."

I moved my boot horizontally against the grass. "Is a good assassin autistic?"

"What?"

"I...I don't think a good assassin can be this way," I admitted sadly. "We need to be focused. Not disrupted by little things."

Ethari sat in silence for a long moment, studying my face. He backed away, retreating to sit across from me. My heart sank, fearing that he had believed my words and seen the shattered image of an elf that I am.

"Runaan," he started again, catching my attention. "Look at me, if you can."

I looked up at him, forlorn.

"Now, you know I am a craftsman, right?" he asked--a rhetorical question. "What kind of craftsman wears hair that falls in front of his face?" he asked, pointing to his bangs. A pang of amusement hit me, and I humoured him. "I mean, who's to say it won't fall in my eye right when I'm about to slam my hammer down and, OW! There goes my hand!" he yelped, animating the motions he spoke of.

I hid my chuckle behind my hand, yet my eyes spoke clearly.

"And what's with this crop top?" he asked again, running his hands along his arms and turning the fabric so I could see the side vents. I blushed, coughing into my fist. "Do you know how easily I could get burned? Just one wrong flame and poof! Fashion statement gone wrong."

"You have a point," I offered.

"So you see, I might not fit the generic image of what people expect a craftsman to look like, but I'm still pretty good, no?"

My reply was swift. "You're a wonderful craftsman, Ethari."

"My different way of being a craftsman doesn't make me any less honourable or correct than an elf who shows up wearing proper gear and has their hair tied back. That's simply not my way of experiencing what I do. It's not how I want to live everyday, and I don't make an effort to fit into what 'others' say." He moved with every word, feeling the passion behind it.

"And so, what I'm saying is, just because you have differences--good differences--it doesn't mean you can't be correct or do a good job. Because you do great job. You're a wonderful assassin and elf, Runaan."

I could have kissed him right then and there, but my feels for being so genuinely validated struck me first, and a stray tear tracking down my cheek had to be attended to. I quickly rubbed away the moisture and looked at him again. "Okay. Thank you, Ethari. For everything."

He returned to my side, pulling me into a hug. He held me tight, gently rocking us back and forth for a few seconds. "You're always welcome."

I stealthily nuzzled into his neck for a moment, indulging in the closeness. Pulling away, he kept his hand on my shoulder. From then on, we spent hours talking about myself, and how I could begin to see myself from then on. It was enlightening, and the learning didn't stop there. It feels like everyday we learn something new about my ways of experiencing the world, and Ethari always takes the time to learn and understand.

Because time is a precious, priceless gift that speaks of worlds of love.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

What if Callum learns Stars last of all his arcana, and then uses all his magics to reset time to the night the show began. He goes back to replace himself because he knows how to stop the assassins, to convince them not to kill Harrow and keep perpetuating the war. He needs Rayla’s help, but she can’t come with him. So she tells him what to tell her back then, to get through to her, and what to tell Harrow or Runaan, and when to do stuff because they have the whole timeline now. So Callum pops back in time and takes his own place, gives up all his magic and his love to save his dad, and Rayla’s, for the sake of peace.

This means that, in Callum’s original timeline, things keep falling apart, and he and Rayla can’t fix everything. Maybe Runaan is never freed. Ethari gets bitter and angry. The Moon Nexus isn’t restored. Lux Aurea is never salvaged. Claudia can’t be redeemed. Viren keeps not dying properly. Aaravos is free. Other characters have to sacrifice themselves to give the heroes a chance to succeed, and it keeps being for nothing. Until Callum finally gets this idea. 

Older and so so tired, he knows this is his only chance to save everyone he loves. Even if he, personally, loses them as a result. So he goes back.

And it works. Rayla listens to him, and with the foreknowledge they have of who will be where when, they save Harrow from Viren’s spell and fetch Zym’s egg before Runaan and his assassins can get there. Once they break the cycle that night, they can start to change things really quickly. Callum knows about the coins and uses Viren’s staff to free Lain and Tiadrin, and Rayla, Runaan, and the assassins are gobsmacked. Things get better from there.

I wonder what Rayla would tell Callum to tell her younger self, that could possibly get her to believe him. Maybe he has an Ethari-crafted item to show her. Maybe she tells him to mention Ethari’s name, or her parents’ names. To tell her they’re innocent and he can prove it, if she’ll just give him a chance.

________________

apparently I wrote this after watching a live stream from @uneryx so long ago I can’t remember it, but this was sitting in my drafts at 5/97 and I can’t say I have anything else to add, this is pretty wild

[ask-lain-anything]

When'd you know that Tiadrin was the one

It’s all about completely feeling at home around them. Once I got to the point where I could be myself around her at all times and feel loved and safe, I knew this was someone I wanted to stay with.

Not to mention that @ask-ethari-anything was very persistent in emphasizing how well we complimented each other.

[raayllum]

do you have any soft or even angsty Rayllum pregnancy HCs?

Not really any angsty ones - pregnancy isn't something I think too much about Rayllum wise (I think more about Sarai's pregnancy with Ezran and Tiadrin's pregnancy with Rayla for some reason) beyond the general headcanon that while they marry young (ages like 20-21) they actually wait like 4-6 years to start trying - but I do have a few!

A very old (i.e. written post-s2) drabble of Callum talking to their baby

Some sparse headcanons here

and some more upon request

Rayla is pretty active (other than heavy first trimester fatigue) but eventually the swollen ankles and soreness catch up to her and forces her to slow down and take more bed rest. She is not a happy camper

Callum asking a million questions (until Rayla tells him to shut up because she cannot describe how sore her boobs feel one more time) and reading everything he can get his hands on about pregnancy, trying to translate things over for what to expect for an elf-human birth (if there are differences) and doing research on old-ass texts that mention halflings from before the Exile

Ezran cries when they tell him (and they're the first person to know outside of each other) and cries again when they ask him to be godfather

Sky magic spells being used to help with her breathing and practice for the birth

Despite being pretty young, Callum remembers Sarai's pregnancy with Ez pretty well, and there's a bittersweet quality to Rayla's, even more than his parents never getting to meet his partner, but that they'll never meet their grandchild either

They receive an eclectic array of toys/presents for the future crown heir. Gifts from the human kingdoms from the monarchs & various diplomats (only Aanya manages to get them something they'll actually use) and gifts from Xadia, of course, particularly fine ones from Zubeia (one of her dragon scales which has magical properties) and from the baby's great aunts Janai and Amaya. Callum and Rayla need a whole room in the castle just to store everything

Rayla gets a lot of cravings and Callum eventually buckles down to learn how to make moonberry surprise for her, even if it's trial and error

Pregnancy is also what gets her over her reservations (finally) of crying in front of other people bc her hormones/emotions are a mess, this is her family, and she's gotta get used to both of those things sometime

[quietninjakitty]

Okay, at the beginning of TTM, Rayla mentions that the new moon is only three days away. If the full moon was on July 14 (aka, the day before Callum's b-day), then what was the date at the beginning of the book? Because if it was very early July, then...

What if Rayla stayed up late thinking because it was her father's birthday? (For anyone reading this who doesn't know, it's July 2.)

When Runaan was doing the binding ritual (in May), he said that Thunder was killed "four full moons past", which I believe translates to four months ago. Which would make the attack on the Storm Spire in January. (I'm not entirely sure how the timing of that works, since they called it Winter's Turn, and it was still very cold, but that isn't the point of this post.) And it's canon that Zym was supposed to hatch the day of the attack.

Tiadrin's birthday is December 23. No matter how the timing of the attack works, it still would've been spent at the Storm Spire.

And we already know that communication between the Spire (and Dragonguard) and the Silvergrove is possible (see the post on the official TDP website for Rayla's birthday traditions.), so wouldn't Rayla have gotten some sort of notification that the Dragon Prince was close to being born and her parents would be coming home soon? And depending on how early that was sent, then they would've known that one of her parents' birthdays would be the first one they spent together. And I think it's reasonable to assume that it was something along the lines of "we might get home for Tiadrin's, but we'll definitely be there for Lain's".

And they would've gotten home for Lain's. Zym would've been hatched half a year before, and they would've been completely relieved of their duties by then. And despite the way things turned out, Rayla still knows what they were supposed to be doing during that summer and spring. What they were supposed to be doing on her dad's birthday, and later, hers.

And literally the only reason that they weren't is the man whose body had (extremely suspiciously) disappeared, sending all her assassin's training and common sense to one simple conclusion. That something was off and required further investigation.

Bodies don't just disappear.