#rayllumvalentines

[jedidragonwarriorqueen]

This one is for @blutopaz15​​ , our resident fluff queen! This was originally for the “chocolates” prompt of rayllumvalentines last year, but I never got around to finishing it, but I finally dusted it off and rounded it out a bit. Hope it makes your day a little brighter Blu! Hang in there!

Fandom: The Dragon Prince

Pairing: Rayllum

Word Count: 1.4k

Tags: Probably the fluffiest thing I’ve written literally ever. Who am I

The air was refreshingly chilly, the waning half-moon was bright, and best of all, not a single one of those pompous, awful, moonless human nobles was anywhere in sight.

Rayla closed her eyes with a sigh, basking in the slight silvery warmth of the moonlight, hugging her arms against the chilly breeze. After the noise and bustle of the banquet hall and later the ballroom, the quiet of the night on top of the north tower was a welcome relief, as was the familiar feel of her breathable, flexible feel of her usual training outfit instead of the restrictive dress she’d worn for most of the evening. Though, in hindsight, she probably should have grabbed her cloak, too—the year was turning, and the autumn night was cooler than she’d expected.

She’d made it to the end of the night before storming off, which she stubbornly decided to she would be proud of. She hadn’t needed to put up with those stupid humans and their politely-worded but thinly-veiled insults, but she had. It was important to Ezran, and to his station as king of his country, so it was important to her. But she didn’t have to like it.

A rustle sounded from behind her and she turned, surprised, hands reflexively going to the butterfly blades sheathed on her back. Who else would just come up here, and in all honesty, who else knew how to get up here?

Then her silly boyfriend’s head popped up through the loose roof tiles, and Rayla relaxed.

More of Callum appeared through the hole in the roof, but his movements were awkward. A thick blanket was thrown over his shoulder, but his arms were still out of sight, and he seemed intent on whatever was in them. His brow was furrowed, his nose all adorably scrunched up like it did when he was concentrating hard on something. He wobbled, then yelped, then emitted a string of words he would never permit being said in front of Ezran and disappeared again.

“Callum,” Rayla asked fondly, “what are you doing?” How dare he show up all cute and sweet when she was trying to be broody.

He poked his head out of the hole in the roof again, scowling good-naturedly. “Don’t just sit there, come help me!”

Rolling her eyes and smiling despite herself, Rayla crossed the narrow roof and crouched next to the hole in the tiles. “What do you need?”

“Take these for me,” he said, handing her the full mugs he’d been carrying, one in each hand. “I can’t climb very well without my hands, certainly not well enough to keep them from spilling.”

She took them from him and stepped back to give him space to clamber up. She inspected the mugs’ contents dubiously. “What is it?”

Puffing with exertion, Callum nevertheless positively beamed at her as he scrambled onto the roof. “Hot chocolate!”

Ahh. In Rayla’s opinion, chocolates were one of those human things that didn’t quite live up to the hype. Sure, it was pretty good, but not nearly as good as moonberry surprise or one of Barius’ jelly tarts. And she’d never heard or seen liquid chocolate before. Jiggling the mugs experimentally, she wrinkled her nose at the way the sludge inside moved. She took a cautious sniff, but could smell only the faintest aroma.

A gentle weight settled around her shoulders, and Rayla looked up as Callum sat down beside her, draping the blanket over both of them. The very puffy, very big blanket.

“Is this…the bedspread from your bed?”

“No,” Callum defended himself, then added sheepishly, “it’s the bedspread from Ezran’s bed.”

Rayla blinked at him for a minute, then laughed.

“It’s not like he uses it!” Callum complained. Which was true. Ezran couldn’t stand to sleep alone—well, not completely alone, he had Bait—in the king’s chambers, the room that had been his father’s. So more often than not he joined Callum and Rayla in the room he used to share with Callum, or, on Soren’s nights off, joined the crownguard in his. (Soren had offered, in a surprisingly insightful mood one night when Callum and Rayla had been wanting alone time badly enough it had been obvious even to him, but hadn’t wanted to deny Ez. He insisted he still had the extra bedding from when he and Claudia had had sleepovers when they were kids, and had immediately won Ez over when he suggested they make a blanket fort.)

“No, no, it’s sweet,” Rayla said, smiling, handing one of the mugs back to him and pulling the blanket tighter around them as the cool breeze strenghtened. The warmth of the silvery moonlight couldn’t compare to that of her dorky prince pressed against her side, or the knowledge that he’d gone through all this effort to bring these small comforts up to her on the rooftop. Even if the “hot chocolate” was a bit of a letdown, the gesture itself more than made up for it.

“How do you like the hot chocolate?” Callum asked brightly as she took a sip, heroically managing to swallow the thick, lukewarm liquid without grimacing.

Rayla didn’t have the heart to tell him what she really thought. “It’s, uh…” She tipped her head to the side, wracking her brain for an appropriate response. “Chocolate-y?”

Callum’s face fell. “You don’t like it.”

Rayla found his hand with her own, sliding her four fingers between his five and linking them together. “Not really,” she admitted. “But I like that you went through all this trouble,” she added to reassure him. “That means more than you know.”

“Still,” Callum said, crestfallen, and Rayla mentally kicked herself. He went through all this trouble for her, and she couldn’t even pretend she enjoyed the drink. But, as if he could guess what she was thinking, Callum caught her gaze with his own. “Thank you for telling me. The whole point of this was to cheer you up, and I’d feel worse if you just pretended to enjoy it.” He sighed, glancing out at the turrets and the forest beyond, and squeezed her hand. “Sorry it didn’t work.”

Rayla kissed his temple, and as his already wind-reddened cheeks flushed redder she felt the last of her bad mood dissolve into the chilly air. “It did work, promise. Just you being here with me helps.”

Slightly mollified, Callum raised his own mug to his lips, and his eyes widened as he took a sip. “It’s cold!”

“Yes?”

“It’s hot chocolate! It’s supposed to be hot!” That would…make sense. Rayla hadn’t thought of that. Callum released her hand to smack himself on the forehead. “Of course you didn’t like it! Here!” Callum thrust his mug at her.

Surprised, Rayla took it from him, now holding both their mugs again. Callum twisted to face her, nose scrunching again in that cute way as he drew a rune in the air between them, nearly going crosseyed as he concentrated in the small space.

“Aspiro calor!”

Rayla’s hair fanned out as a warm breeze passed over her, as if she’d opened one of Barius’s ovens to pull out a tray of jelly tarts. The ceramic in her hands grew comfortably warm, and the rich aroma she’d caught only a whiff of earlier rose to her nose with the steam now rising from the mugs.

“Now try it!” Callum encouraged, taking his own mug back and pulling the bedspread closer around them to trap some of the heat.

Hesitant, Rayla tested the drink temperature with her lip, then took a cautious sip.

Her eyes widened. The thick liquid had been completely transformed. The thick sludge-like quality was now rich decadence, not too sweet like she’d come to expect from human chocolates, but retaining some of the bitter quality of raw chocolate. The temperature was perfect, the mug warming her cold hands, the drink sending warmth all through her as she swallowed. “This is amazing!”

Callum grinned as he tested his own. “Now that’s more like what it’s supposed to be!”

Rayla dropped her head onto his shoulder, mindful not to poke him with her horns. “Thanks, Callum,” she said softly, warmed from within as much from her prince’s caring gestures as from the hot drink.

Callum twisted to kiss the top of her head, right between her horns. “You’re welcome, Rayla.”

Leaning on each other, the bedspread draped around them and legs swinging over the side of the roof, the two of them gazed out over the starlight castle and forest beyond. Humming happily, Rayla took another sip of the hot chocolate. It was almost as good as moonberry surprise—but it couldn’t even compare to cuddling with her dorky, kind, talented boyfriend under the moon

[chimpukampu]

Crossing a super shallow, bridge-less lake be like

For Rayllum Valentines Week Day 6 - Promise

Sorry for the delay, got busy with real life tasks

[numptypylon]

All the header drawings from my Valentine’s event fic, Home Free (snuggly, bantery housemates-to-lovers)

[learties]

choose your fave card, i can't pick between adoraburrs, heart horns and "baby, you're my forever girl" (something's so strangely familiar, is that an atla reference?😉)

[raayllum]

Hey everyone! I thought with Valentine’s Day coinciding with the two year anniversary of season two’s release, and being a turning point for our lovebirds, what better time to have a Rayllum Valentine’s Day themed week! Starting on Sunday February 14th and going until Saturday February 20th, any and all content featuring Rayllum is welcome! The prompts belong are guidelines and suggestions, but feel free to depart from them! NSFW content is accepted so long as it’s tagged properly and/or put under a read more once content tends to lean that way.

Day One: Valentine’s Day (February 14th)

Day Two: First Date (February 15th)

Day Three: Chocolates (February 16th)

Day Four: Romantic Mishap (February 17th)

Day Five: Flowers (February 18th)

Day Six: Promise (February 19th)

Day Seven: Happily Ever After (February 20th)

Late postings for prompts are also very welcome and the tag for the event is #Rayllumvalentines. Happy creating, and I look forward to seeing everyone’s amazing art, fic, playlists, gifs, and edits! 

[tenspontaneite]

Beyond the Moon Gardens - Extracts (1)

For lack of anything else to post today, I’m releasing some extracts from one of my non-public fanfictions – Beyond the Moon Gardens – as my participation in the @raayllum valentine’s event.

Information on and context of the story itself is below the cut. The 10k of snippets are also below the cut.

(General overview of the content of the snippets: established rayllum, fluff, domesticity, horn care, silliness, cuddling.)

-

Story information:

‘Beyond the Moon Gardens’ is a successor to ‘In the Moon Gardens’. The former was written in a month in late 2020, and has been worked on sporadically since. The latter was written in approximately three weeks between December 2019 and January 2020. Both are currently incomplete. I do not intend to publish either to the public in full, but may well post further extracts in time.

‘In the Moon Gardens’ is a story about Callum and Rayla getting married; however, the circumstances are deeply unpleasant and the experience is traumatic. ‘Beyond the Moon Gardens’ is considerably longer, and is focused on trauma recovery, hurt/comfort, relationship development, and fluff. The story is structured around a plotline involving rescue and disaster relief efforts in a Sunfire elf city called Lux Marea.

All snippets presented below take place on day 7 of the story’s timeline. They have been carefully curated for fluffiness for the purposes of Valentine’s day, and do not contain any of the hurt/comfort or post-traumatic scenes prevalent in the story at large. Some extracts have been edited to slot together and minimise empty space.

I may potentially post further snippets throughout the week if people are interested.

-

The extracts:

(Snippet 1: domesticity, fluff, city descriptions. Context: Callum and Rayla are staying in fancy diplomatic quarters in the city, where they arrived somewhat earlier in the day.)

Rayla turned away from her reflection and went for the door.

She glanced around, and found Callum in his own robe sat at the sofa in front of the window. Surprisingly, he wasn’t drawing. He was just staring out across the city, looking pensive.

“Not drawing?” She asked, and he startled, looking up at her in surprise.

He blinked. “Oh. I didn’t hear you.” He said sheepishly as she approached.

She snorted, and moved around the sofa’s edge to plant herself down beside him. “So I noticed.”

Callum smiled at her, looking for all the world like the best thing that had happened to him today was her sitting down next to him, eyes settling on her like he’d be perfectly happy to do nothing but look at her forever. She withstood that expression for only a single second before she had to lean in and kiss him. He made a pleased sound, reaching out to rest a hand on her back, fingers stroking reflexively over the thick wool of the robe. “You smell nice.” He said happily, turning his face sideways to tuck his nose behind her ear. He was undoubtedly getting a face full of wet hair that way, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Fruity, sort of.”

“They’ve got a lot of soaps in there.” She said, and her voice came out more soft than amused. Stars, but she loved him. “It’s nice. There’s all these soaps, and towels, and I think bath oils too.”

“You think?” He inquired, curious, still with his face in her neck. He pressed a kiss to her damp skin.

“Didn’t check them out properly or anything, but there was a drawer full of some fancy stuff. Bottles and the like. Looked like it might be bath oils.”

With a final kiss to the edge of her jaw, he pulled back to resume staring at her contentedly. “We’ll have to have a look later.” He said, and paused to give her an appreciative once-over. “That dressing gown looks nice on you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You say that about literally everything I wear.”

“That’s because you look good in everything.” He claimed staunchly, and honestly, he wasn’t looking half-bad in his dressing-gown either. The colour was familiar on him, but the casual comfortableness of it was weirdly pleasing to look at. Made him look cosy and cuddlable.

Rayla shook her head, then leaned in to kiss briefly along his jaw. It prickled a little. “You might want to see if they’ve got razors in there.” She said dryly. “You’re starting to prickle.”

He blinked, startled, and raised a hand to his jaw, feeling along it. Mercifully, he grew facial hair extremely slowly, making it less of an issue on the move, but it did still grow. He’d last made an attempt at shaving some two weeks ago, and that had sufficed up to now. “Elves don’t grow beards, though.” He said, after a moment. “I’d probably better just stick with mine.”

Once or twice, they’d made an attempt at shaving his bristles with Rayla’s swords, which had been kind of nerve-wracking, and plenty memorable. For lack of proper razors to be found in Xadia, they’d eventually ended up getting him a small knife that he claimed was alike enough to a ‘straight razor’ to work, though it periodically needed to be sharpened to an absurd degree. It was all very strange to her, even after a good half year of living with him. “Maybe.” She agreed at last, and gave him a sniff. Fresh from bathing, his state of uncleanliness was far more obvious to her nose than it had been before. “You should be getting washed up first though. You’ll make your dressing gown stink.”

He snickered. “Bet I reek to you now that you’re clean.”

“Just a tad.” She prodded him in the side until he started moving. “Off with you. Wash up.”

Evading her hands, he leaned in and planted a final kiss on her forehead before leaving, disappearing into the bathroom while she shook her head at him. She heard the water start up quite soon after, and eventually ended up staring out of the window like he had.

The city was still bright, both with sunlight and with the ongoing glory of the temple’s radiance. Settling into a sort of quiet lassitude, she watched it with eyes half-lidded, following the patterns of steaming light as though the smoke from a fire.

It was a striking city. Unlike Lux Aurea, which was so much gold it hurt to look at, Lux Marea was a thing of contrasts. The buildings were all built from the same dark stone as the bathroom had been done in, a grey that cast deep black shadows behind the gaze of the sun. And yet – every building was lined with gold. Accents on the corners, or moulding between the bricks, or running in thick channels up the walls…it gleamed, rich and distinct against the stone. Some of the largest, richest buildings had elaborate golden murals on their sides, luridly metallic and shining in the sun. All of that gold was glowing with magic now.

Rayla wasn’t much for aesthetics. But even she could appreciate the beauty in that view. She watched it for a while longer, lulled a little by the twisting patterns of glowing haze rising from the buildings, then stood and went to find something to do.

 -

 (Snippet 2: Calum and Rayla investigate the supplies their fancy bathroom is stocked with, discover bath bombs and are confused, Rayla points out various horn-care items, and Callum makes her very flustered by offering to use said items)

  After that, they went through and classified each of the mysterious drawer goodies a little faster. They found more varieties of lotion, some weird nearly liquid soaps, and a pot of some mysterious mini chalky spheres whose purpose neither of them managed to guess until Callum’s hair dripped on one and it sizzled. “Is it supposed to go in water?” Rayla wondered, befuddled.

“No idea. Try it.” He suggested, and they took the rinsing pot, filled it with water, and dropped the thing in. It fizzed and foamed magnificently, releasing pleasant odours and bits of dried flower as it dissolved, and both of them stared at it with fascinated consternation.

“Is that for baths?” She asked him, befuddled. “What’s the point?”

“…Fun, maybe?” He offered, reaching out to swirl a finger in the foam. “It looked pretty cool, after all. Maybe you’re supposed to throw them in the bath for the fun of it?”

“Fun foam and nice smells?” With a huff, she put that pot aside as something to maybe experiment with if she felt like it. “Well, maybe.” She snorted, and in the last unexplored corner, found something highly important. “Oh thank god.” She said, in that way she’d absolutely picked up from Callum, and he looked over with interest.

“What did you find?”

She brandished it triumphantly. “Toothbrushes.”

“Oh thank god.” He echoed instantly, peering over. “My teeth feel disgusting.”

“You’re not the only one.” She withdrew both toothbrushes from the drawer and set them aside. “Well, at least we know what everything in there is now. Mystery solved.” She went to close it, but was stopped with a hand on her wrist.

“Wait, but what about those?” he asked, indicating the small collection of things she’d already set to one side of the drawer with the horn-scrub.

“Oh.” She’d forgotten he wouldn’t know those on sight. “Right. Well, this thing here-“ She plucked up a narrow, vaguely curved implement with a soft-smooth coating. “-is a horn buffer. For making horns smoother once you’ve already scrubbed all the rough bits out with a proper scrub.” She planted it in his hands, since he seemed fascinated by it, and withdrew a sort of soft spongey thing with a texture like felt. “Horn polisher. Same thing, kind of.” He took that as well, and she pulled out a pot of thick paste that turned out to be exactly what she thought it was when she uncapped it. This one had obviously attempted to smell as pleasant as possible, but it still had a very strong and distinctive edge to it. She wrinkled her nose. “Horn polish.” She said, closing it up again. “To be applied and used with the polisher. And lastly-“ She picked up one of the remaining bottles, “horn oil.”

He looked weirdly interested. “What’s the oil for?” He asked, leaning in. “I mean, I guess the rest of it’s to make your horns smooth and shiny, right? So what about this?”

“It’s kind of fancy and unnecessary, and expensive, so not everyone uses it, but usually you put it on after scrubbing or polishing.” She explained, withdrawing the bottles one at a time. “They smell nice, which is good after the polish, and letting it sink into the horns is supposed to make them healthier and glossier-looking. You can technically put it on multiple times a day if you’re really into your horn presentation, but pretty much no one bothers.”

“Because it’s expensive?” Callum guessed, and she made a so-so noise.

“Well, there’s that.” She said dryly. “But it’s just kind of a lot of hassle, you know? If you’re already washing and doing your hair and keeping your horns not-gross, it’s just extra fuss you don’t really need.” She shook her head. “It’s less effort than full on polishing, I suppose, but I’ve never been bothered about polishing my horns except on special occasions anyway. It’s a lot of work.”

“Huh.” He said, in a sort of weird tone of voice. Rayla turned to him, and found his expression similarly strange. Thoughtful, interested, and a little bit furtive.

She eyed him suspiciously, picked up an armful of the supplies they’d set aside, and stood up with them. “What’s that look for?” She asked archly, setting things onto the broad side of the bath. He followed her lead, picking up the rest of it and standing, looking a little shifty.

“What’s what look for?” he asked innocently, putting it all out in neat rows.

“I know that face.” She told him, unimpressed. “I’ve told you so many times I know that face. That’s your dumb idea face. So out with it.”

For a moment, Callum looked sheepish. Then he cleared his throat, and looked at her, and she reflexively fell silent. “I…was wondering if you’d let me do your horns.” He said at last, and she made a strangled noise in the back of her throat.

“What?”

  -

 (Snippet 3: tail end of the horn-care discussion, domesticity, Rayla bemused by the concept of room service, Callum pestering Rayla for details on how horn care works, and discussion of one of Rayla’s newer hobbies)

 “That’ll be nice, then.” He said, sounding very at peace with the idea. “I can wash and comb out your hair, maybe. Give you some hornrubs.”

Her cheeks heated. “Callum.” She complained. “That’s so sappy.”

He pressed his face close alongside hers, and she could feel his smile against her cheek. “Treat you real good.” He said, very contentedly. “I’m gonna spoil you rotten.”

Rayla managed a strangled, deeply embarrassed sound in the back of her throat. A little indignant, she protested “You can’t just say things like that.”

“I can, and I did.” Callum grinned against her skin, and leaned in further to kiss her near the corner of her lips. “Love you.” He lifted a hand from around her waist, fingers settling at her jaw with a gentle suggestion of movement. Feeling near to bursting with mortification and adoration, she grumbled wordlessly but followed his hand, allowing him to lead her face around so he could kiss her on the mouth.

“You,” she muttered, into his lips, “need to get dressed.”

He paused, then huffed a surprised breath over her skin. “That’s right, I’m still just wearing a towel.” He remembered, ruefully. “At least I’m drier now.”

“It’s been ages, of course you’re drier.” Rayla shook her head at him, then nudged at his arms until he let her go, extricating herself from his embrace. She had difficulty looking him in the eye when she turned, after all of that. “…Get dressed.” She repeated, softer, and shoved the dressing gown he’d hung nearby into his arms. She leaned in, kissed him once on the lips, and then turned away to leave the bathroom.

She settled on the sofa, ensconcing herself beneath the soft blanket she’d found, and stared out at the city while her heart recovered. Sometimes, she loved Callum enough that it was a little hard to cope with, like she was afraid that the emotion in her would rupture if it built too far. He was used to her retreating a little at times like that, just long enough to breathe and feel slightly less overwhelmed.

He took long enough in the bathroom that, eventually, she guessed that he was shaving. That disappointed her, a little. She liked to watch him when he shaved. It was always so strange to her, something quintessentially human; a bizarre banal grooming ritual that reminded her again and again that he wasn’t an elf, he really was a whole different kind of being to her, and his humanity was made of so many little things. He never failed to chuckle at her for how she watched him shaving, but had grown very used to her keeping him company for it.

She sighed, and looked out on the city under the sun, and regained her emotional footing. By the time he emerged, clad once again in the dark red dressing gown, she had her equilibrium back and looked up gladly at his return.

“Where’d this blanket come from?” He asked, bemused, coming over to join her. She held one end up so he could sit down under it with her.

“One of the drawers. There’s a bunch of stuff in here.” She informed, and once he was seated she didn’t waste any time in reaching out to run her fingers along his still-damp jaw. It was so smooth. She murmured, pleased, cupping his face between both hands.

He coloured a little, looking across at her with soft eyes. “You’re so weird.” He told her, sounding utterly besotted, and she leaned in to kiss him lightly along that jawline.

“Love you.” Rayla said contentedly, and drew back just enough to nestle firmly against his side. He wove an arm around her back and turned his head to kiss her at the brow.

“Love you too.”

After a good bit of cuddling and watching the city together, Callum admitted to wanting a drink and Rayla to not knowing whether their waterskins were still filled. They were, as it happened, but-

“You know, if you wanted fresher water, or moonberry juice, we could just ask for it.” He pointed out. “All we’d have to do is open the door and ring a bell and someone would come up, and we’d ask for a drink, and they’d have it up for us just like that.”

She shook her head, utterly exasperated at the idea. “That’s so weird.” She said, and then actually considered it. “…Let’s do it.”

He laughed, and obligingly got up and went to the receiving room to fetch the bell. He mostly-closed the intervening door for her sake, so that when a servant responded to the ring she didn’t feel particularly on edge about it. They couldn’t see her. It was fine.

After a short conversation with the servant, they were off, and Callum shut the outer door before returning. “Five minutes.” He said, and true to his words, there was a knock at the door not too much later. He went to answer it and brought back an actual platter, balancing an entire jug of moonberry juice, an entire jug of water, and two glasses.

“Did you ask for a whole jug?” She asked, disbelievingly, as he set it down on the low table ahead of the sofa. “Or the water?”

“Nope. Actually, they passed along their apologies for not leaving a jug of water in here in the first place. Apparently that’s their usual thing to do, but since they were hurrying for us it got forgot.” He poured her a glass of juice, and then some for himself, and sat back.

She snorted. “What a terrible standard of service.” She said, mockingly. “I mean really, forgetting to leave us wee little glasses and chilled water, what is this place coming to?”

He snickered at an inopportune moment, very nearly making a mess with the glass he’d been in the process of drinking from. “Don’t say that around Vervain, I think she’d actually explode.”

“Right there on the spot.” Rayla agreed. “It’d make a terrible mess.”

They traded a few light-hearted quips on the subject of the accommodations while they had a drink, then they set it all aside for later. Callum, who was clearly angling for it, managed to get her onto the topic of how exactly a proper horn care-and-polish was supposed to go, and she spent pretty much the entirety of that torn between being increasingly embarrassed and increasingly amused. He was so interested, like she was sharing arcane magical knowledge instead of stupid basic grooming tips.

“I mean, I’ve seen you using your horn-scrub on the road sometimes, to file away rough or flaky bits, right?” He was saying, while she leaned over to lay against his chest. He reflexively put an arm around her even while gesturing with the other one. “You kind of go…with the sort of curvy lines in your horns? Like one at a time?”

“They’re called ridges, Callum.” She informed him, incredibly amused. “And yes. You need to file along them all one by one, and be careful to keep the shape too. If you do it badly you’ll flatten out the tops of the ridges and it looks really stupid.”

He stared down at her horns with fascination, and lowered his gesturing hand to trace the shape of – she presumed – one of her horn-ridges in detail. She made a flustered sort of murmur at him, but he seemed too busy to notice. “Right, so, hm.” He almost seemed to be speaking to himself. “Yeah, if you just file it from the top it’d all flatten out. So you have to sort of work around each one? Following the curve?”

“That’s why Moonshadow horn-scrubs are so much more complicated.” She informed him. “We need the wee fiddly parts to get between all the ridges and file it right without losing the shapes. Takes forever. Our horns are more of a pain than almost any other kind of elf’s.” She grinned up at him. “Unlucky for you.”

“Are you kidding?” He asked, incredulously. “This is great. Means I get so much longer to spend on you. You never let me spoil you enough.”

She processed that, and groaned, burrowing her face into the wool gown over his chest. “You’ll change your tune soon enough.” She muttered, but wasn’t entirely convinced. Callum really was an incredible sap when it came to doing things for her. “It takes so stupidly long.”

“I’m counting on it.” He declared happily, and she huffed.

“You’re ridiculous.” She informed him, and after nearly ten more minutes of him trying to wrangle intricately detailed horn-polishing knowledge out of her, just rolled her eyes and said with exasperation “It’s like polishing armour, Callum. Or boots. You just buff it up, then go at it with polish on the polisher for ages. There’s not much of a trick to it.” She paused, but did add “Gets kind of messy though. The filing stage puts horn dust and bits everywhere, and once you start polishing you get like…murky polish liquid all over your hands. Better put a towel down.”

Eventually, after enough sitting around that the cuddling alone wasn’t engrossing enough anymore, Callum did go and get his sketchbook and immediately sat down to begin producing what Rayla was certain would be the first of many, many drawings of the city. He drew it as seen from above first, and Rayla settled in to watch with half-lidded eyes.

She’d grown very used to spending time watching Callum draw. In large part, this was because he tended to spend a lot of his free time doing it, and she was often around when that happened. It was quite satisfying, to sit there and observe as the shapes on the page took form. But even so…

There was only so much of watching him draw that she could do before she started getting bored. Throughout their journeying, it had rarely got to that point. What with the time constraints of camp-craft and travelling, there’d been little enough spare time that Rayla hadn’t felt compelled to find anything else to do. Now, though, she found with surprise that her fingers were itching for her knives.

“Huh.” She said to herself, with interest, and Callum turned his head to peer at her.

“Hm?”

“My knives.” She said, and then realised this wasn’t especially helpful. “My carving knives. Just realised I’m hankering for them a bit. That’s never really happened before.”

“Oh.” He thought, then looked pleased. “Looks like you’re starting to make a habit of it after all. That’s really nice.”

“Less nice when I don’t actually have the knives.” She snorted, and considered her empty hands.

Rayla, on the whole, tended towards active ways of passing the time. She liked to train, and she liked to exercise, and if Callum was free she always liked to go flying with him. But inevitably, after half a year spent together, there had been plenty of afternoons and evenings in their off-time when she was too tired to go out for training, or Callum was spending time drawing and she wanted to be around him, and she ended up with nothing to do.

He’d been the one to gently pester her into taking up some sort of hobby. At first she’d just grumpily sharpened her weapons over and over again, but with enough work he’d got her to try other things. He’d suggested either knitting or whittling, on the basis that both involved the use of stabby implements, and she was a fan of those. Knitting she hadn’t taken to. But whittling…

At first, she’d just done it because he’d prodded her into it, and she didn’t hate it, and there was nothing better to do, so she might as well. But now, considering her empty hands with consternation, Rayla realised for the first time that she actually kind of wanted to be doing it. When had that happened?

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Pick up some things in the city tomorrow, maybe.” He suggested, and turned back to his drawing.

“Bit of a waste, when I’ve got a plenty good enough set of knives at home.”

“You don’t need to get a full set. But it could be nice to have a couple of the main ones around, for travelling with.” He shrugged. “You can practice on any random bits of wood, right? So it’s mainly the knives you need.”

She snorted. She’d learned enough to know that the type of wood one chose was, in fact, very important. But…yeah, for messing around like she did, random wood was usually fine. If splintery. “Maybe.” She said in the end, already thinking of the knife she used most. “It’s not a bad idea. Clothes and supplies are the priority, though. So maybe if there’s anything left after that.”

“We’ll need cold-weather gear, if we’re going through the Shiverthorns in winter.” He remarked, and huddled into the blanket like the mere thought was making him cold. “Thick cloaks and stuff.”

“Which are expensive.” She reminded. “And also heavy. It’ll slow you down.”

He shrugged. “I figure that’s okay. We won’t be in a huge hurry to get back, after all.”

  -

 (Snippet 4: Callum and Rayla discuss dinner options, watch the sunset, and investigate the light fixtures. Context: in this story, I worldbuild Sunfire elves as some weird blend of French and Roman.)

  He hummed by way of agreement, and pulled her tighter in to his side. “For now, let’s try not to worry about that.” He said, determinedly. “Today our job is to relax and rest up, and that’s it.”

Rayla sighed, and shifted around to lay part-way across his front, face half into the red wool at his chest. “I can probably do that.”

They cuddled for what actually didn’t end up being that long, because there was a knock at the door. It echoed sharply through the polished wood, even with the intervening door closed. Rayla, who’d heard no footsteps of any kind due to the ostensible soundproofing, stiffened immediately.

Callum blinked, then carefully extricated himself from her. “I’ll go get it.” He said, and she didn’t object. She didn’t relish the thought of being seen by strangers when she was in her bathrobe. That was private.

He unlocked and opened the receiving room door, closed it behind him, and then unlocked and opened the outer door. There was actually a decent degree of sound loss between there and Rayla’s current spot, so she couldn’t hear what was being said beyond stray words. After a while, Callum said something in a distinctly goodbye-ish sort of voice and the encounter ended. He considerately locked both doors for her on his way in.

Over his arm, he was holding a neat stack of clothing and armour. “Already?” She asked, startled, and watched as he set it all down on the bed.

“Already.” He agreed, seemingly pleased. “I guess their drying spells really are useful. Look, they’ve cleaned your armour. And our boots.”

Rayla lifted herself from beneath the blanket to go over and look. All of their things looked fresh and new, bereft of the dull beige hues imbued by travel and sleeping in dust and dirt. It half looked like they’d re-dyed some of it, honestly, to get the clean colours back. She lifted Callum’s scarf from the pile, sniffed it, and hummed at it.

“Laundry smell?” He asked, amused, and she shrugged.

“Unsurprisingly.” She considered putting it on him, but in the end decided she was enjoying the look of him in the bathrobe, all cosy and comfy-looking. “What else were you talking about?”

“Hm?”

“With the servant.”

“Oh.” He paused to collect his thoughts. “Dinner stuff. He wanted to tell me the options they’ve got, so we can order ahead of time.”

Rayla made a thoughtful noise, and drew him by the wrist back over to the sofa again. “And?”

“You want me to list it all off?” She nodded, and obligingly he went off listing the various items on the menu, many of which were evidently examples of bizarre Sunfire ideas about cooking. Snails, really? Frog legs? Her nose wrinkled at that one, and Callum’s lips quirked. “They serve glow toad too.” He admitted ruefully. “I mean, I guess I heard they were delicious, but it’s one thing to hear it and another thing to have it on the menu, you know?”

She made a face. “Ez would never forgive us.”

“Bait would never forgive us.” He agreed, snickering.

“And besides – ew.” Rayla shook her head, and waved her hand. “What else?”

He went through all of the selections, drinks and desserts included, and then finished up by saying “He left a sort of booklet thing behind with it all written down, if you want to look over it.”

She stared at him with exasperation. “Callum. You really just stood there and said it all when you could have just handed me the bloody menu?”

“Well, you did ask.” He said, like this was reasonable, and she sighed fondly at him.

“You dumb prince.” She told him, affectionate, and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek before going to look for the menu.

By this point, it was around four in the afternoon, and the sun seemed to be making a very definite bid for descent. She retrieved the Booklet of Food Options and retreated to the sofa with it, where Callum had already planted himself to watch the city. There was a hint of yellow-green in the bright clear sky, and the angle of light from the sinking sun was casting some particularly dramatic shadows. The temple was still gleaming with light off to the side, and the golden circuitry through the city still exhaling. She stared at it for a moment, certain that tonight’s sunset really was going to be spectacular, and then opened the menu to start looking.

It had been long enough since lunch that the sight of so many food options was plenty enough to make her start considering the idea of an early dinner. In an hour or two, maybe. Some of it was too weird or too exotic to consider, but there was a lot that wasn’t.

She passed the booklet over when she was done making selections, but Callum seemed too occupied with the burgeoning sunset to want to look at it. She snorted, leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, and then leaned comfortably into his side to watch the city.

The sun fell over a period of around half an hour, sinking lower and lower, until the sky filled with such intense yellows and deep reds that it seemed almost to have caught fire. The grey slate of the city turned bloody red in the light, every golden trace lit up and shining in the growing dark. The few wispy clouds left in the sky were shining too, until the sun began to pass beneath the lip of the sea on the horizon, and the blue-green edges of the dusk glittered with stars.

“That,” He said, very softly, when dusk was ebbing into twilight, “was a really incredible view.”

Rayla had little artistry in her heart, but she’d appreciated that sunset. She knew that by contrast it must have touched Callum deeply. She looked at him, taking in his expression, finding it every bit as amazed and awed and happy as she could have hoped for. Her heart fluttered, happy for that he was happy, and in the warmth of that contentment she reached over to cup his cheek with her hand.

He looked at her, leaning into the hand, and offered her a small and very soft smile. Her thumb smoothed over his cheek as he lifted his hand to settle atop hers. Wordless, she leaned in to kiss him, warm and brief, and lingered there close by his face for a long while after their lips parted. He sighed very quietly, entirely happy and entirely at ease. It was peaceful in a way she’d dearly missed.

Feeling utterly suffused with warmth, Rayla nestled in beside him, fingers hooking lightly in the soft red wool of his robe. His arm came around her, and both of them sighed, and both of them settled, and it was quiet.

Neither of them felt the inclination to move or speak for quite a while. The sky was dark and full of stars by the time she shifted, and the city’s golden circuitry shining boldly through the shadow. The Moon, ascendant in the sky, was very nearly full.

“Might not be so bad after all, staying here a while.” She said, finally, and pressed her lips to his neck. “Comfy, nice bathroom, nice views…and the food options look kind of incredible, honestly.”

He chuckled, soft and fond. “Bit of a weird honeymoon.” He murmured into her hair. “But I’ll take it.”

She huffed. “Honeymoon.” She repeated, shaking her head.

Well. She supposed if they’d had to go through that whole forced marriage ordeal, they did at least deserve to get a nice holiday out of it. Even if most of that holiday was going to be spent working, the not-working parts of the day looked to be a lot fancier and more luxurious than they were back home.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Was her conclusion, in the end. “Did you decide what you’ll be eating?”

“Pretty much.” He kissed her brow. “You ready to order? It’s still kind of early.”

“Eh. It’ll do.” She shrugged, and listed off her selections. He kissed her again, then gently untangled himself from her limbs to go off and summon a servant.

The room had gone darker while the sun set, and the soft yellow glow of the fireless light fixtures along the walls had grown more prominent. Now a little curious, Rayla took the opportunity to investigate one, and on closer inspection found it to be some sort of…weird bioluminescent plant. Or maybe animal? It had long rigid tube-like structures that had plainly been cultivated into ornamental shapes, that looked almost like some sort of stone, though it had obviously been painted or dyed the usual deep red. It exuded a number of softly glowing yellow-orange tendrils from the openings at the end of the tubes, short and blunt but weirdly pretty.

She reached out cautiously to touch one, and at once the tendrils retracted inside the tube, the light dimming. Startled, she drew back to watch it, but the tendrils didn’t start to tentatively reappear again for another minute, during which she heard the light murmurs of Callum conversing with whatever servant he’d summoned.

When Moonshadow elves wanted light after dark, they just used enchantments, or glowstone, like normal people. Fancy Sunfire elves, however, apparently favoured plants. Or animals. She honestly wasn’t sure which this one was. Some sort of land-coral?

“I ordered the food.” Callum said, when he returned. “They said it’ll be about half an hour. And they’ll bring it all up at the same time so we don’t get disturbed twice.”

“Perfect.” She pronounced, with satisfaction, and then dragged him over to meet the light fixtures. Predictably, he spent a good ten fascinated minutes investigating the weird glowing polyps, and then a while longer sketching one out, and was half-way through that when the food arrived.

 -

(Snippet 5: after dinner, Callum and Rayla engage in some silliness, then cuddle. Domesticity.)

 “I’m so full I’m not going to move for a week.” Rayla announced, after staggering her way back through to their sofa, followed by an amused Callum. “It’s going to take at least that long to digest all of that.”

“That might make it tricky to get supplies.” He said, pretend-thoughtful. “But I’m sure we can work something out.”

She snorted, patted him on the shoulder, and then promptly pulled him into her side when he started looking at her in the imminent-cuddles sort of way. He hummed contentedly, turning his face into her shoulder, breath warming the wool over her collarbone.

“This bathrobe is so comfy.” He said happily, words muffled by wool. “It’s so nice.”

Having had very similar sentiments about his bathrobe earlier, she quite agreed. “Shame they didn’t include wool pyjamas, really.”

He didn’t offer any response for that, just snuggled, putting an arm around her waist. It was almost a little uncomfortable, really, what with how full she was, but she didn’t protest. She just held him close, smoothed her free hand over his hair, and looked out over the city. In the dark, watching the vaporous light rise felt very much like watching fire. It was very entrancing.

Some time later, Callum started to show signs of beginning to fall asleep on her. She looked down at him, snorted, and then nudged him until he stirred. “If you fall asleep now you’ll be up too late.” She informed him as he made plaintive noises at her. “I’m not having you exhausted and useless for your magic channelling nonsense tomorrow.”

“But you’re too comfy.” He complained, and she smirked.

“That sounds like an invitation to be less comfy.”

He opened an eye to peer at her suspiciously. “What do you mean, ‘that sounds’ – hrk!” His words cut off as, unceremoniously, she swept him up with an arm under his back and another under his knees, on her feet with a quick shift of her weight and his. She grinned down at him, finding him instantly and distinctly awake. “….Honestly this is still pretty comfy.” He said, weakly, when he’d spent enough time staring wide-eyed at her to recover his words.

Rayla pretended at thoughtfulness. “That sounds like a challenge.” She said, and he looked alarmed.

“It wasn’t! It wasn’t!” He protested, to no avail; she stepped around the sofa, judged her angle, and tossed Callum at the bed.

He wasn’t particularly aerodynamic, but her aim had been good enough anyway; he sailed neatly between the posts at the corners and impacted decadent Sunfire quilting with a muffled oof. She was laughing at him outright when he turned, staring at her with a sort of red-faced stupefaction that told her exactly what he thought of the whole experience. “Your face right now,” she managed, doubling over to snicker in his direction. Hilarious.

“You know, there’s a saying,” he began, a little dazed. “About trusting someone as far as you could throw them.” He pushed himself up on his elbows. “You could probably trust someone a lot, is what I’m getting at.”

“…I actually do sort of know how far I could throw you, now that I think about it.” Rayla said, thinking back. “It comes up in assassin training sometimes. Throwing teammates at walls and the like, to give them a leg up. I lobbed someone about your size around six, seven metres once.” She paused, and added “Lengthways, I mean. Throwing someone upwards is a lot harder.”

This did not make him any less wide-eyed. “That’s like, over twenty feet,” he marvelled, looking at her with plain admiration. “You’re amazing.”

She huffed, reflexively bashful at the praise, and shook her head. “Amazing at throwing people, at least.” She said dryly, and went over to stare down at him from the foot of the bed. “How’s the bed?”

“…Very nice, actually.” He said, after a pause for consideration. “You’re pretty bad at making things less comfy.”

“You’re definitely awake now though.” She pointed out smugly. “So my work here is done.”

He snorted, sitting up fully to beckon to her. Obligingly, she bent forwards to meet him with a brief kiss. “Hard not to wake up when someone throws you half-way across the room.”

She rolled her eyes. “It was not that far.” She said, and after a moment made the executive decision to fall forwards onto the bed, face impacting the plush duvet and sinking in. Her feet hung from the edge, and Callum giggled.

“Hehehe toes.” He said, and reached out to poke one. He found her four-toed feet amusingly charming every time he was reminded of them, which would have been funnier, except her feet were pretty ticklish and she twitched every time he prodded like this.

“I will kick you.” She warned, and he subsided with another snicker. Instead of messing with her any further, he shuffled over and started playing with her hair. “Mm. Better.” With a sigh, she closed her eyes and tipped her head forwards, face smooshing deeper into the bed. His fingers carded through her hair, nails trailing lightly at her scalp.

“You didn’t brush it.” He noted, carefully working out a couple of tangles, and she shrugged.

“Couldn’t be bothered. ‘Sides, it only tangles again when we cuddle, anyway.”

He hummed, and went through it again more purposefully, parting it carefully around her horns as he looked for and eliminated a few knots. He brushed around her hornbeds and she shivered. Apparently noticing the reaction, he did it again, more deliberately, chuckling at the way she murmured and pushed her head into his hand. “You look like a shadowpaw when you do that.” He said, affectionately, scritching gently around her horns. “Headbutting people’s hands when they pet you.”

“Anyone else and I’d be cutting off their hands, trust me.” She mumbled at him, already a little indistinct and fuzzy around the edges of her thoughts. Hornbed-scritches did that. “…Suppose the shadowpaw’d do that too. Except they’d bite the hand off instead, if they didn’t like you.”

“What I’m hearing is that if you were an animal you’d probably be a shadowpaw.” He sounded very fond.

“Mm. Guess so.” What would he be? Something doggish, probably. Friendly and playful and loyal, and then all teeth and fierceness when threatened. That sounded about right…

She drifted, a little. It was hard not to, when collapsed onto a comfy surface with one’s hornbeds being rubbed. He stopped after a while though, evidently noticing her drowsiness, and stroked a hand over her head between the horns as he chuckled. “Now who’s falling asleep?” He teased, and she made a half-hearted rude noise at him.

“’s your fault.” She muttered at him, indistinct around the duvet in her face.

“Uhuh.” He sounded amused, and stroked the back of her head again.

 -

(Snippet 6: very detailed depiction of horn care, which in-setting is considered intimate)

 She was suddenly very glad he’d interrogated her so persistently on the procedure earlier, because she wasn’t at all certain she’d have been able to tell him anything more sophisticated than ‘um’ when he was literally about to do her horns for her.

“You’re so cute.” He told her affectionately, obviously very aware of her current emotional state, and then finally set soapy hands onto her horns.

“Oh my god.” She muttered, cheeks flaming, feeling the weight of his hands, the subtle pull at the rest of her skull. She had never been quite so aware of her horns as when he started soaping them up and washing them, and it didn’t take long at all for the warmth of his skin to soak far enough through the keratin so that she could feel it in the living horn. A little while later, he applied the coarse-bristled-brush-side of the horn-scrub to her left horn, and she made a tiny embarrassed sound at the ceiling. “You should scrub them harder than that.” She managed after a moment, since he really was being too gentle about it. “Horns are tough, you know.”

He hummed with interest, and obliged, scrubbing hard enough that it pulled at her head a little. The towel-pillow had been a very good idea of his, really. “How much horn care do you normally do?” He asked, curious, getting the washcloth to rinse her horn before scrubbing again. “I’ve seen you file them, but…”

“…Usually just this. A good scrub to make sure they’re clean, and then filing down the rough bits.” Rayla offered a mortified noise. “But it’s been weeks and I’ve not even done that. They’re probably so dirty…”

“Shush, they’re fine.” He huffed at her, and kept on at her left horn until he was satisfied with it, moving over to the other one. Rayla regarded the ceiling with a persistently red face the whole while, cheeks feeling nearly as warm as the half of her body that was still in bathwater. “I wonder if your face is going to be this red the whole time.” He remarked, when he’d apparently finished with the washing.

“Probably.” She muttered, self-consciously, and felt her gut squirm when she felt the first experimental scrape of the fine filing parts on her horn.

Callum laughed softly, and started setting to work with the file. “If you say so.”

For all that he’d never done this before, the muted sensory feedback Rayla gleaned from her inner-horns and her ears suggested that he seemed to be doing fine with it. He readjusted the file enough that she could be relatively sure he was respecting the curve of the ridges, and worked slowly along the shape of each one, from the hornbed to the pointed tip, over and over again.

As she’d told him, it was a long process. It took a long time. Long enough that, contrary to her words, her embarrassment did start to burn out a bit, the red of her cheeks easing until she only felt a little flushed, a little flustered.

“I see why you thought the cloak would be a good idea.” Callum said ruefully, a while in. She could only imagine how much horn-dust and flaky bits of keratin must be littering it. “This does get kind of messy.”

“Told you.”

“For now this is just making your horns go sort of…pale, and scratched-looking.” He commented, working the file around one of the ridges on the underside. “I guess it goes dark again once you start buffing it?”

She made a small despairing noise, but agreed “Yeah, basically. Honestly all you really need to do is wipe it over with a wet cloth and it’ll stop looking like that. But…”

“But I’m not stopping there.” He said, with evident satisfaction, and a little more heat rose in her cheeks.

He was slow and meticulous about the filing, but got through it a lot more quickly than she could have if she’d done it herself. It was hard to work on your own horns – the angle was bad, you couldn’t see what you were doing, and adjusting to get the undersides was a huge pain in the arms. By contrast, doing it for someone else was just…a lot easier.

Finally, he set the scrub down and went for the washcloth again, soaping up and rubbing her horns clear of dust, poring over them for any spots he’d missed. When he was finally satisfied, he said “and now I buff them?”

“Mmhm.” She confirmed, bringing her hands up to hide her face for a moment. So, at her confirmation, he started on that part next. He evidently hadn’t expected how vigorous the buffing and polishing stages of horns were, because she kept telling him to press the buffer harder, and he kept making worried noises about it, and she had to keep assuring him that no that’s how it’s supposed to be, and eventually she start started laughing helplessly at him.

“I feel like I’m going to hurt your neck,” he complained at her, when the strength of the requisite motions pulled at her head. “Or like, hurt your hornbeds, or something.”

“I’ll be fine, Callum.” She assured him, still laughing, mirth and embarrassment squirming in her chest. “This is just how it goes, you know.”

“At least I brought you a pillow.” He sighed, and obligingly kept on. A fair while later, when he was done with the buffing and had washed her horns again, he leaned back a bit to admire his work. “That really is looking a lot smoother and shinier.”

“And you’ve not even done the polishing yet.” Rayla felt very weird then, laying back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. She’d been through embarrassment, and then amusement, and now…now, there was something else. She felt almost calm. Almost settled, like she’d finally started to grow used to this. Like the novelty of his hands on her horns had worn through.

Now, she felt kind of comfortable. At ease, in a way. Her mind was drifting in the way it did when Ethari or Runaan had helped her with her horns before, like this was just a normal thing. A normal thing that took ages, and that one had to daydream through to pass the time.

“I’m actually really looking forward to seeing what they look like when I’m done.” He was saying, as he put the buffing things down and went to get the bottle of polish and the polishing tool. “I’ve never seen your horns all done up before.”

“Maybe now you’ll finally understand what I mean when I say my horns have gone gross.” She pondered, and he laughed. “Finally you’ll know what well-kept horns are supposed to look like.”

“I have seen other Moonshadow elves’ horns, you know.” He informed her, obviously amused, and she heard the cap of the polish opening. A moment later, she smelled it, because there was really no mistaking that smell. “Yours still look nice no matter how long it’s been since you scrubbed them.”

Rayla made a disagreeable noise at him, and he snickered back, and then finally set about the polishing.

She’d told him, earlier, that horn-polish was pretty potent stuff, and that’s why you applied it to a sort of spongy cloth attached to a handle, rather than scrubbing with it by hand. At full strength, it actually melted the outer surface of the horn – just a little, just enough to meld it all down into a smooth, gleaming, perfect surface. Diluted polish was fine if you did it regularly, but with how long it had been for her…she’d told him to keep it undiluted. And it stank.

Her nose wrinkled, even with all the pleasant soap smells competing, and held her neck lax as Callum worked on her horns vigorously enough to pull her head back with every other movement. That was just how it went, so she wasn’t bothered. The towel was enough padding that it didn’t hurt, so she just laid there and let him work.

“Think I might actually nearly be done.” He pronounced at last, sounding genuinely a little out of breath. She’d told him it was hard work, and evidently he’d found that out for himself. He sounded very pleased, though. Like he’d done a good job and knew it, and was plenty proud about it. “Just got to wash all this polish muck off, right? Soap your horns up again.”

“That is the last stage.” She agreed, trying to glance up at him, but all she could really see was the top of his head. “Aside from oiling, I suppose.”

 -

 (Snippet 7: aftermath of horn care, domesticity)

 It was then, by the sink, that Rayla finally removed the towel from her head, and Callum made a loud noise of pure joy at her. She stared at him, alarmed, and then noticed where he was actually looking. Oh.

“Shiny!” He exclaimed, gleeful, and reached out to stroke her horns. “Oh my god.”

“Callum!” She complained, but she was already laughing, because honestly she should have predicted this reaction. He practically groped at her horns, bright-faced and beaming, and she flushed all the while she stood still and let him. “Are you going to let me see them any time soon?” She asked him, dry. “Or are you just going to stand there groping them?” He subsided at that with a very high-pitched giggle.

“Hehehe,” he offered, and then “yes, go look! You need to tell me how well I did.” He took her by the shoulders and turned her to the mirror, his face lingering by her shoulder in her reflection with the enormous grin still very much in residence there. He was such a dork, honestly.

Finally, Rayla tipped her head forwards and inspected her horns. They were…shiny. Very shiny. Every ridge had been filed and buffed and polished to a gleam, and when she turned her head, the light glimmered off of them like they’d been waxed. Her eyebrows went up, and she lifted her own hand to feel along one. It was smooth. Entirely dry, but as she ran her finger along one ridge, it felt so smooth. Their dark colour was actually glossy. “…Wow.” She said, a little admiringly, and tilted her head to watch the light move. “That is shiny.”

He looked absolutely delighted by that response, as if he’d needed her go-ahead to be certain that, yes, that was definitely impressively shiny. She smiled, helpless to stop it, and turned her head to kiss him on the cheek; her reflection mirrored her.

“You did a great job, Callum.” She told him fondly, her cheeks pink at having seen exactly how great a job he’d done. Stars, but the second anyone saw her they’d know exactly who was responsible for those horns. “My horns haven’t been this shiny in years.”

Callum looked at her like she’d hung the Moon, like this praise was enough to render him utterly overjoyed. He tugged her around enough to kiss her, deep and excited and full of energy, so much so that she made a muffled noise of surprise into his lips. It caught her off-guard, and she was feeling a little breathless and a little dazed when he drew away a few moments later. “You have to let me do this again.” He told her, beaming. “I’m going to keep your horns this shiny, just you wait.”

Her cheeks flamed, and she ducked her head, suddenly flustered. “You can’t just say things like that.” She complained at him, and of course he looked utterly unrepentant. He leaned in and kissed her, then moved and kissed her on one cheek, and then on the other cheek, and his hands were already up and stroking along the wide bases of her horns again.

“Smooth,” he commented, gleefully, fingers warm around her horns. His face was very, very close to hers. “They’re so nice.”

The heat in her face decidedly didn’t abate. “Oh my god, Callum.” She mumbled, shaking her head, and he just kissed her again. Feeling increasingly dazed, she said into his lips “you know, it’s a lot faster if you’re doing it regularly. You can skip the filing and just buff and polish instead.”

He considered this excellent news, if the way he kissed her was any indication.

Finally, she summoned the force of will to reach up and peel his hands from her horns, stepping away. It was not easy, because – because when he looked like that, so elated and alive and full of delight, when he kissed her so enthusiastically, it was hard to think of pretty much anything. She looked across at him, incredibly flustered, and couldn’t see anything except how beautiful he was. “You, calm down.” She ordered him, gruffly, and led him by the shoulder to the basin. “We came in here to brush our teeth, you numpty. Not fondle Rayla’s horns.”

“But Rayla’s horns are really really pretty.” Callum pointed out cheerfully, and she made an involuntary noise half-way between embarrassment and pleasure.

“Be that as it may, Rayla and her horns want you to brush your teeth now so we can go to bed.” She said, and she shuffled over to the basin to make good on her words.

 -

 (Snippet 8: Callum and Rayla go to bed finally. Cuddling, fluff.)

 It proved as magnificently soft and comfy as she might have expected, when she peeled back the covers and climbed in. Callum meanwhile was perusing the canopy with consideration.

“Curtains or no curtains?” He asked her, and she considered it.

“Curtains.” She decided, and watched with satisfaction as he reached out and unhooked the bed’s attendant drapery. She reached to the one closest to her, and he got the rest; it all fell into place, a rich dark red that blocked out the light from the room around them and cast their bed into soothing shadow. Something settled in her then, that hadn’t quite been at ease in the unfamiliar surroundings, or the openness of the room. She sighed, and burrowed down under the duvet, laying her head back on the pillows.

He joined her, lifting the covers and slipping in, closing his eyes for a second in obvious profound enjoyment. “This is so much better than hard cold floor.” He murmured happily, and she smiled, tugging him to her with a hand at his shoulder. He went gladly, and within moments they were pressed close, legs tangling, the warmth of his skin comforting against her own.

“Been a long few weeks.” She sighed, resting her forehead against his, and he lifted a hand to stroke her cheek.

“Kind of an understatement.” He murmured back. “I’m glad we’ve got a chance to rest now.” A pause. “Sort of, anyway. Aside from the work.”

She understood his meaning, though. There was something strangely safe about the idea of the time they’d spend here, whether it would be a week or longer than that. This wasn’t home, where there’d be people to explain things to, or where they’d have to adapt their old life to fit around what had happened. This was a new place – unfamiliar, but easier to cope with for that unfamiliarity, in its own way.

Here, she thought, they’d be able to find their footing a little. Settle a little more into their new normal, before the vagaries of travel and normal life needed intrude again.

“Me too.” She agreed, at last, and reached a hand across to press lightly around the back of his neck. He made a soft, pleased sound, then shuffled to give her better access, face smooshed into the pillow. She kissed him on the cheek, and he peered at her with one green eye, a smile fluttering on his lips.

“…Thanks for letting me do your horns.” He mumbled back, eventually. “I liked it.”

Her heart fluttered. “I’ll repay you sometime.” She promised, and moved her hand to smooth down along his upper back, enjoying the warmth of his skin. “Tomorrow, maybe. Give you a nice backrub or something.”

“Sounds great.” He shifted closer, tucking his face against her shoulder with a sigh. She kissed him at the top of his forehead, stroking him gently from the nape of his neck to his shoulders and back. He made quiet contented noises at her, drowsier and drowsier, and steadily began to drift off.

She lingered there, holding him, trailing fingertips over his neck as he settled into sleep. It really had been a long day for him, for all that they’d spent the latter half of it indoors and resting. Now, finally, he’d be able to sleep properly, in a bed comfortable enough to ease the ache of his overworn muscles. Now, finally, without the city’s doom hanging over them, they could rest a little.

Rayla smiled into his hair, nestled against him, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t aware of falling asleep, but it took her anyway; almost between one moment and the next, she was gone.

[imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs]

Rayllum Valentines Week Day One: Valentine’s Day (February 14th)

Solemnly, Rayla waited. Waited for the sun to rise. Soon, the day would begin and the most infamous day of the year would begin.

The holiday which little Moonshadow elves still told stories about to scare each other during the darkest of nights during new moons.

The day on which humans celebrated their own dismemberment, presenting the bloody evidence to one another in a macabre show of their passions.

The day as infamous to the elves as the death of Avizandum.

The Day of Valentine.

But today, Rayla was ready. More than ready.

The doors and windows to her and Callum’s adjoining rooms had been barricaded. She’d stockpiled enough provisions to last three people a week and a half, her bed made for an excellent rampart when turned on its side, and she’d set enough improvised traps in the room to make any would be assailant stop long enough for her to disarm them.

Moonshadow elves could do a lot with empty bottles and a few choice dead plants.

But homemade smoke bombs aside, she would have to find Callum and Ezran soon. Callum was just next door, so getting him to safety would be easy, but Ezran was all the way down the hall. Not only would getting to him be dangerous, but getting both the prince and herself back to her fortified room would be too.

But she couldn’t think about that right now. She would never allow Callum or Ezran to be disemboweled by some raving lunatic. They meant too much to her to leave them to some backwards custom humans hadn’t yet out grown.

Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. Rayla steadied her breathing and tightened her grip on her weapon. This was it.

“Rayla? Are you up?”

Callum!

Rayla jumped over her bed and over her trip wires, making a dash for the door. Removing the chair she’d jammed under the doorknob, Rayla opened the door enough to see outside.

“Callum?”

Callum stood in front of her door, a sheepish smile on his face and his hands behind her back.

“Hi Rayla,” he said, wiggling his fingers before returning the hand to behind his back.

“Are you alone?” Rayla asked.

Callum frowned.

“Yes…?” he said, confusion on his face.

“Well, get in here!”

Grabbing him by the collar, Rayla dragged him through the door, slamming it shut behind him. She was briefly aware of something hitting the floor behind him, but paid in no mind. Their survival was her top priority.

“Rayla, is everything al—what happened to your room!?”

Ignoring his question, Rayla unceremoniously picked Callum up bridal style and bounded across the room until they were safe behind her bed.

“There,” Rayla said, dropping him, “we should be safe.”

“Safe from what?”

“Shush.”

Rayla placed a finger over his lips.

“I need your help. You’re safe, but Ezran’s still in his room.”

“He’s not in his room.”

Rayla felt her stomach drop.

“He’s what?”

“He’s outside the castle. You know for Valentine’s Day.”

This was not good. Ezran was outside the castle. Away from Rayla or any of the guards, he could be torn apart by a frenzied mob.

“Stay here,” she said, rising, “I’ll go get him.”

“Rayla, wait.”

Callum made a grab for her arm.

“Don’t try to stop me Callum,” Rayla said.

Callum frowned.

“Stop you? From what?”

Not as agile as she was, Callum opted to take the route around her rampart to talk to her face to face. Which unfortunately meant he would be headed straight for one of her tripwires.

“Callum…!”

All too late, Callum became aware of the line at his feet and the sound of dozens of glass bottles falling from where Rayla had secured them on the ceiling with a web of fishing lines. The air filled with black pepper and dust, sending Callum and Rayla fleeing from the room coughing and rubbing their eyes.

“What the hell was that?” Callum spluttered, “Are we preparing for war?”

“Not,” Rayla said, thumping her chest with a fist, “Valentine’s Day.”

Callum looked like he was about to explain something, only to suddenly slap his hand to his forehead and then sprint down the hall.

Great, Rayla thought, now I have to princes who forgot about self-preservation.

The consternation was short lived, however, as Callum returned, carefully carrying a box in his hands.

“Callum, what’s that?”

Callum blushed and held out the box to her.

“I…I’ve got something for you.”

“Oh, Callum, you didn’t…”

“It’s fine. I wanted to.”

Wanted to? Callum wanted to vivisect his fellow humans?

“I had Barius and Ezran’s help. I… I had to call in some favors but…”

Callum’s eyes shifted around the room, as if there would be words to say written on the walls before finally looking at her again.

“Here,” he said, handing her the parcel, “I was going to give it to you first thing this morning, but I was so nervous, I guess…”

Rayla didn’t hear the rest. She could only stare down at the plain off-white package now in her hands.

The love of her life, a deranged maniac who gave her a box of severed body parts on this most grim of holidays.

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

Rayla looked up, where she found Callum watching her with expectant eyes. Expectant puppy dog eyes no-one could say no to.

Rayla sighed.

Might as well get the mental scarring over with.

Gingerly, she lifted the lid, bracing herself for the stink she knew accompanied pieces of the dead.

Except there were no dead body parts in the box.

Instead, nestled inside the box was a moonberry tart (she could tell from the smell; the non-threatening, non-stinky, delicious smell) and artfully written on top of it, in pieces of dough, was the message ‘For Me, My Elf, and I’.

“Callum,” Rayla said, looking up at him, “I don’t understand.”

Callum’s previously proud expression changed to one of confusion.

“I thought you said you liked the moonberry tart recipe Barius had.”

“No, I do, it’s just…”

Her confusion probably mirrored his own by now.

“Why?”

Callum shrugged.

“It’s Valentine’s Day. This is my Valentine to you.”

“This?”

Rayla looked down at the tart.

“And it’s not made of body parts?”

“Body parts?” Callum asked.

“Because on Valentine’s Day, humans rip hearts and organs out of other humans chest to give to other people they want to sleep with, right?”

For what must have been five minutes, Callum stared at her. Then, as if she’d just told a joke, laughter burst out of him. Rayla scowled.

“Did I miss something?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Callum said, wiping his eyes, “but I think we might need to have a talk about Valentine’s Day.”

[blutopaz15]

rayllum valentine’s week!

Day One: Valentine’s Day

Fic: A Valentine’s Treat

Rating: Explicit (you have been warned!)

Word Count: 6.4k

Summary: Rayla forgot about Valentine's Day, but she has a creative way of making it up to Callum.

Callum sighed and pretended to pout at Rayla, who was currently reclined back against the door to their room as he fiddled with the key. “I just still can’t believe you didn’t get me anything for Valentine’s Day.”

She scoffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “It’s not my fault that Katolis has, like, a hundred different holidays.” Her lilac eyes rolled to meet his. “You’re kind of responsible for reminding me about these things, don’t you think?” she snarked, straightening up as the lock clicked open.

“I’m just saying...you didn’t notice all of the streamers? The hearts everywhere?” Callum asked with affected disbelief, just pleased to have a legitimate reason to turn the tables and tease her for a change. The door swung open and, before he could even gesture for her to enter the room, she was breezing past with a good-natured glare, shoving playfully against his shoulder on her way across the room to fulfill the first phase of their nightly bedtime routine.

Messing up her bed before they got into his every night had been her idea originally.

“Appearances, mage,” she’d smirked the first time she’d ripped her sheets back before bounding across the room to his bed with a giggle, tackling him backward against his pillows and settling in against his chest, which was the second part of their nightly routine.

Now, they’d been keeping up that appearance that they still slept apart for so long, it seemed a shame to let everyone in on the secret, especially because it wasn’t hard to imagine how quickly rumors would spread if an attendant came in once they’d started their day and noticed that—for the first time—Rayla’s bed was still neatly made up.

Why deal with the embarrassment of everyone thinking that they were sleeping together before they’d even actually slept together when it was so easy to maintain the illusion?

Of course, they did sleep together every night in the strictly literal sense. They’d kept their sleepy snuggling strictly chaste, though. After rumpling her sheets sufficiently, Rayla tucked herself under his arm and under his blankets after the lights were out every evening, pressing her warm form against him, lean everywhere he was allowed to touch in bed but soft at every curve he wasn’t, and...well, he couldn’t say he didn’t think about what it’d be like to actually sleep with her...in the non literal sense.

Continue Reading on AO3!

[zuppizup]

I challenged myself to write old school drabbles for Rayllum Valentine’s Week. Each one will be exactly 100 words and will tell an interconnected story.

Somehow, it ended up being a continuation of one of my birthday bash prompts.

Baking to be exact.

Day One : Valentine’s Day

Day Two : First Date

Day Three: Chocolate

They are sitting on a blanket under a dead looking tree when he presents her with a carefully wrapped box. She feels her stomach turn, because it’s so much more special than her sorry attempt at a present.

She worries he’ll think she didn’t try hard enough or didn’t care to put the effort in.

Taking the pretty box from him, she unwraps it to find a number of small treats.

“Chocolate.” He explains. “From Aunt Amaya and Janai.”

Not from him.

That’s good.

From his family.

That’s better?

It makes her feel welcome. Like she belongs.

Even a little.

Day Four: Romantic Mishap

[iwillhaveamoonbase]

Flowers

My lone submission for the Rayllum Valentine’s event.  Warning: this fic contains mentions of post-partum depression.  Canon-verse, but does involve Rayla still being ghosted 

-------------------

Rayla growled in frustration as she threw the letter in the fire.  “Ray-” Callum murmured from the side, holding their week-old daughter. Aisling was the most beautiful thing Rayla had ever seen, with her father’s green eyes and brown hair with ten fingers and ten toes.  The most elven thing about her was the little horn stubs on the top of her head.    

“Don’t, Callum. Please.”

“We’ll make them understand.”

“How?!  You freed Runaan, Lain, Tiadrin, and many others from those coins.  We saved Zym and reunited him with Zubeia.  We defeated Aaravos and it’s STILL NOT ENOUGH.  They will never unghost me and let me go back home.” Rayla felt the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and tried to hold them back, but they poured out. “And now I’m getting hormonal and just…UGH.”

She didn’t resist when she felt Callum come up behind her and wrap his arm around her waist.  “I’m sorry, Ray.  I don’t know why they are being so stubborn.  You don’t deserve this, but no matter what, you have me and Aisling, and Ezran and Soren.  You ARE home.”

“You don’t get it.”

Sighing, he moved away from her.  “What don’t I get?  Didn’t we agree that this is your home now?  Didn’t we say that, no matter what, we are each other’s home?”

“And I stand by that. But you cannot possibly understand what I am going through.  You still have your home.  You haven’t been banished and you can come and go as you please.  I need weeks of planning to not only go see my parents, but if I want to see my childhood homes, nobody can see me.  My culture, my language, everything, is basically lost to me. You don’t get it.”

Callum was quiet for a while, perhaps minding their daughter.  Rayla winced as she continued looking at the fire.  Wrapping her arms around herself, she felt even more terrible. She didn’t feel like she had taken to being a parent nearly as well as Callum had.  Maybe she wasn’t meant to be a parent.  She loved Aisling with everything she had, had carried the halfling in her belly for nine and a half months and delivered the child for hours, but she was also crying more, angered quicker, and didn’t stop Callum from getting out of bed at night to tend to the baby.  If anything, she hoped he would so she didn’t have to.    

Callum finally came back to her and wrapped both his arms around her.  “You’re right, Ray, I don’t get it.  I cannot understand your pain and frustration.  And now that we have a child, I’m sure your feelings have only grown stronger because you want to share all of those things with her.  But I have to believe that we can make them welcome you back because I’ll hate them if I don’t.  We’re trying to forge peace and hate doesn’t belong anywhere near that.”

“I haven’t even thought about how it would affect Aisling.  Gods, I’m a terrible mother.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Yes, I am.  I gave her a Xadian name and she can’t spend time in Moonshadow territory?  She’s cut off from half of herself and I’m sitting here thinking about how it affects me.” Rayla felt the panic rising in her chest.  “Callum, what if she hates me?  All I do is fuck up with her.  I’m not bonding with her like I should.  She already adores you more and I’m just there.”

“Look at me. Please.”  Slowly turning, Rayla raised her eyes to meet his, shocked at the tears in them.  “You aren’t fucking up.  You’re having a hard time, but that’s not that weird.  You heard Sabah and Amaya.  Most new mothers feel like this, and if it lasts longer, we’ll get you help. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad mother or something is wrong with you.  What did the mid-wife say?”

“That birth is traumatic for some and it takes longer to heal the mind than the body.”

“What else?”

“That, because I don’t have a support system from my home and my culture, I’m more at risk.”

“I’m so sorry that this is happening and I wish I could fix it for you.  I would fly into Silvergrove now and make them take you back if I thought it would work.  But you are not screwing up with Aisling.  She’s not cut off from half of herself because she has you.  If you want to only speak to her in High Elven, I will support that.  If you want to teach her to read it, I will find books every time we go to Xadia and ask Janai for some.  I’ll order ingredients from Xadia so she can have Xadian food.  I promise, I will do what I can to give you both a connection to your home because, even though we are each other’s home, you do still need a connection your culture.  Aisling does, too.”  Wrapping her arms around him tight, Rayla’s shoulders shook as she silently sobbed in his arms.  Callum kissed the top of her head and held her close, rocking her side to side as he so easily did their baby.

------------------------------------------------------

Rayla rolled her eyes as she stared at the curtains Callum had pulled over part of their bedroom. He said there were changes coming to the garden and it was a surprise so she wasn’t allowed to look.  It had been several months since the Council’s latest rejection of her return to Silvergrove and she was slowly starting accept that she would always be rejected.  All four of her parents had visited Aisling and had adored their grandchild, promising to visit as often as possible and give her a connection to her culture. Lain and Tiadrin were even considering permanently moving to Katolis so they could be more active in Rayla’s life and make up for lost time.

Stroking Aisling’s cheek with the back of her fingers, Rayla held her bairn close.  Sabah had been a big help in the journey into motherhood, visiting often and letting Rayla freely voice her concerns and fears. Months ago, Rayla had feared the judgmental eyes of others for not being close enough to her child, but she was slowly learning that it really was different for everyone.  Tiadrin had shyly admitted she had had a hard time post-partum with Rayla as well; lying in bed for days on end and Runaan and Ethari and Lain having to check in on her.  She still felt like a failure some days, but her child was healthy and growing with a flush on her cheeks.  “I love you, even if you do wake me and your father up.  We need to get you sleeping through the night, wee one.”

A knock of the door interrupted her gentle scolding, causing her to look up.  “Princess Rayla?”

“Aye?”  

“Prince Callum requests you and Princess Aisling join him in the garden.”

“We’ll be there.” Standing up, she held Aisling close and left her bed chambers.  The trip to the gardens was a short one, but Callum had covered all the windows so Rayla couldn’t accidently get a peak at what he was doing.  “We’re finally going to see what your father has been up to.  I’ll bet you five whole jelly tarts he built a pond just to practice ocean magic.”

“I would take that bet.” She turned to the side to see Callum waiting for her.  “Ready to see the surprise?”

“I’ve been ready.” She turned to the glass doors leading to the garden and waited for Callum to open them.  He smiled at her and turned the handles.  As the doors opened, Rayla was hit with the smell of moonlilies.  She hadn’t smelled that scent outside of soap in years and her eyes watered in nostalgia and happiness.  Callum had planted a whole field of them as well as having built a gazebo.  “How did you do this?”

“Well,” running a hand through his hair, he gave her a sheepish smile, “it certainly wasn’t easy. The Council is being so stubborn with unghosting you, but I managed to convince them with a letter a day to let me have enough moonlilies to do this.  I told them that it was the least they could do for the mage who had decoined several of their citizens.  I know it’s not the same thing, but, at least, you can now have a piece of home right here in Katolis.  Let me show you the gazebo.”

He led them over, hand on the small of her back, and Rayla marveled at all the flowers before her. Moonlilies only bloomed at night, but their scent was still unmistakable.  The gazebo was wrought iron and featured multiple Moonshadow knots and symbols.  There were cushions and benches for sitting on.  “I could spend all day here.”

“I’m glad.”

“Thank you.  This is the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I love you, Ray. This is our home, and, I hope, I made it feel a bit more like home for you.”

“You did.  I love you, too.”  

The three of them spent all day in the gardens, having lunch and dinner in the gazebo and later joined by Ezran and Soren.  Sabah, Marcos, and their child joined them as well, Sabah’s heavily pregnant belly leading the way.  Rayla and Sabah chatted in their mixed High Elvens while Callum made his attempts and the little one in their group hung on every word.  It still hurt Rayla that she couldn’t go home freely, but she did feel a bit more at home now.  Maybe one day, she would get to show Aisling and any other children she and Callum had Silvergrove and other Moonshadow territories.  Until then, the gardens would do quite nicely.

------------------------

This fic is something of an ode to my mother who had post-partum depression and had no real support system (family more than a 1000 miles away) besides my father and an ode to my grandmother who had her last child in a country and a culture that were not her own and who regrets not teaching her children more about her language and culture or about my grandfather's (English was the common language between them, so that's what they spoke in the house). I tried to convey their thoughts and feelings to the best of my abilities and to bring in the realties of raising a child in a multicultural, international relationship.

[jedidragonwarriorqueen]

Promise

The elf reached towards the sash, as if to help him adjust it, but Callum stepped back. Hurt flashed across her face, and she pulled her arms back into herself. “You don’t . . . remember me.” Her voice was rough.

He shook his head. “No.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, gaze on the cobblestones. “Ez told me you were there that night. In the castle, when—when our dad was killed. That you were part of the team that came to kill him. And Ezran.” He looked up and met her gaze. “But that you saved us instead.”

She shook her head. “We saved each other.”

“We were friends.”

A shudder passed through her. “We were.”

“I’m sorry,” Callum said quietly.

Her throat constricted, and she glanced away, closing her eyes.

-----------------------------------------------------

Oh my gosh it’s finally done.

I hope y’all don’t mind that this is ... not at all like the other two fics I’ve posted for @raayllum ’s Rayllum Valentine’s week. Not gonna lie, it’s mostly angst. There’s a little bit of fluff in part 2 if you squint, and the ending (it’s happy don’t worry) has a little bit of fluff. It’s also ridiculously long, over 13k words. My brain ran away with this one.

But I had an absolute blast writing this, and I hope you all enjoy it anyway!!

On AO3: and finding answers (is forgetting all of the questions we called home)

Special shout-out to @anneoftheshire for her input on the first chapter. I hope the rest of it also has enough angst for you 😉

And also @darkiplurrr for being one of my advance readers!

[chimpukampu]

“You’re so adoraburr, Callum!” 

For Rayllum Valentines Week Day 2 - First Date

[numptypylon]

I drew some snuggly rayllum to go with my Valentine’s fic, Home Free. This is after the end of the first prompt (Valentine’s Day). It’s lowkey housemates-to-lovers bantery fun (with a teeeeeny side of existential angst)

[forever-animated]

Rayllum Valentine’s Week 2021

Prompt #1 - Valentine’s Day

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count:  5,248

Summary: Callum wants to ask Claudia to the Valentine's Day dance. Rayla isn't too sure how she feels about this. High School AU fluff complete with jealousy, love realizations, italicized ohs, and awkward teenage kisses.

“I’m going to ask Claudia to the Valentine’s Day dance this year!”

Rayla blinked. She was just about to take a bite of her barely edible cafeteria food when her friend had made his sudden announcement.

She and Callum were sitting at their usual lunch table - just the two of them, same as it had been since freshman year. They were definitely an unlikely duo. She was a star athlete, involved in almost every single team sport Katolis High offered, and he was a quiet, dorky artist. Yet somehow, their friendship just worked. They clicked instantly upon meeting and had been pretty much inseparable ever since.

“I’m sorry. Run that by me again.” Rayla stared across the table at Callum, who had been looking at her expectantly, waiting for her response. She was unsure if she had heard him correctly over the noise of the cafeteria. And even if she had, it was still a very strange thing to bring up unprompted.

Callum must have realized this. “I want to ask Claudia to the Valentine’s Day dance,” he repeated, “Sorry if that’s random. I’ve just been thinking about doing it for awhile, and … well, what do you think?”

So she had heard him correctly. He was just doing his usual awkward Callum thing and blurting out the first thing that came to his mind.

Rayla shrugged, feigning nonchalance. She really didn’t like Claudia much at all, though she couldn’t exactly put her finger on why. When Rayla transferred in during freshman year, Callum was the one who introduced them. Claudia was one grade above them both, but he had known her since they were children. It was obvious from the very beginning that her friend had a pretty big crush on the raven-haired teen.

She was nice enough, Rayla supposed. Bubbly, enthusiastic, and even a bit quirky.

It’s just that there was … something off about her.

Continue reading on AO3.

[raayllum]

I love you, Callum. I love you too.

[imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs]

Rayllum Valentines Week Day Three: Chocolates (February 16th)

“This is made from a Bean?”

Rayla looked down at the darkly colored rectangle she held between her fingers. It didn’t look like a bean. It didn’t even smell like a bean. She turned to look over at Callum, who was sitting beside her with a box on his lap.

“You’re putting me on, aren’t you?”

“No,” Callum said, fishing a similarly colored, but circular concoction from the box he’d bought for them and popping it into his mouth.

Rayla frowned, looking back down at the brown rectangle.

“This isn’t going to be like that date-incident?” she asked.

“No way,” Callum said, “I’ve been eating these for years. Nothing bad has ever happened.”

He leaned in conspiratorially.

“Ez, on the other hand, can’t stop until he’s eaten himself sick.”

Rayla had to chuckle at that.

“Besides, that one has peanut butter in it. You’ll love it.”

Rayla looked back down at the rectangle. It didn’t look that special. But if it didn’t look special, it would probably be just as forgettable.

Forgoing everything she’d ever learned or heard about poisons, Rayla popped the rectangle in her mouth and chewed.

And for the briefest of moments, she tasted paradise.

It was so sweet and creamy and nutty and buttery and she had to have more.

“Gimme that one,” she said, making a grab for one shaped like a heart. This one tasted like cherries and Rayla hummed in appreciation of the flavor.

“See,” Callum said, taking one for himself, “I told you it would be great.”

“It is,” Rayla said. “Are there any more flavors?”

Callum nodded, smiling.

“Tons.”