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Thank-you to all of my new Internet stranger friends for being so gracious about having my post shoved onto your dashboards. I loved reading all of your kind tags and comments! Both Martin and Bosco have been gone for several years now but for 24 hours, they felt very present in my life. I greatly appreciate this gift. ❤️
Thank you to everyone who commented in their tags or messaged me. Indeed, today is “Martin and Bosco Day”. I originally whimsically blazed this photo on 13 July 2022. I never expected Martin and Bosco to travel so far and make so many new friends. The experience has been such a gift for me.
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Callum stared up at the night sky and wondered, not for the first time, how many stars there were. He was sure that people had tried to count them before, or at least had come up with some mathematical formula to predict a probable number, but he didn’t think anyone knew for sure. The universe was so vast, how could anyone mortal even begin to fathom something like the number of stars?
The stars carried fond memories for Callum, of nighttimes spent with his first dad, and later with his mom, giggling around campfires and naming constellations. He had always loved stargazing. It was a fact that Rayla had discovered on their trip to the Starscraper. She had tried to exploit it tonight, to take his mind off of other worries by proposing a late picnic on a clear night.
And it was helping, a little. Rayla was curled up next to him with her head on his chest, her breathing slow and steady but not quite asleep. Her warmth was a constant comfort, and he had to withhold himself from kissing her forehead every five seconds. He took a moment and let his eyes wander across the curve of her horns and the small braid that hadn’t quite been untangled from her hair. He smiled at her, rubbing his thumb gently across her back before returning his attention to the vastness of the cosmos. How many stars were there, anyway?
It wasn’t a question that pertained to Callum much. He was only really worried about eleven of those stars. He moved his eyes around and picked them out. He knew all of their names, of course, and he checked their positions every night before bed. They seemed to be especially bright tonight, as though they were taunting him. When his focus drifted away from them, he could swear he saw them moving out of the corner of his eye. Inching closer and closer together, like grains of sand spilling into the empty half of an hourglass, counting down the time he had left to live.
He was being dramatic, of course. They still had 6 years, 11 months, and 24 days before the stars aligned. Before he returned. Callum did the math again in his head, although he had the numbers memorized by now. In just under seven years, he would be twenty-four. Rayla, twenty-five. Ezran… nineteen.
Nineteen. So old, relative to now, but so young in the grand scheme of life. Only two years older than Callum was now. Ezran didn’t deserve to have to count the days until his nineteenth year of life with apprehension rather than excitement. He deserved a life without fear, without constant fruitless planning, without the pressure of a throne, and a broken kingdom, and a new city underway… he deserved to just be a kid.
But then, none of them had deserved any of what had happened to them at such young ages. Callum hadn’t deserved to lose his parents, nor Rayla hers. Soren hadn’t deserved the coldness of his father. That was the thing about the world, it didn’t tend to give you what you deserved.
Rayla sighed contentedly and Callum brought himself back to the present. He checked the stars again. Was he up there right now, biding his time? Was he waiting as anxiously as the rest of them? Could he see what they were planning? Callum had never found anything to indicate that Startouch elves were omniscient, but it wasn’t the most thoroughly researched subject in Xadia. Maybe the scholars had missed something, maybe when Startouch elves were returned to the heavens they gained a sort of presence that couldn’t be accurately described in academia. Maybe their fruitless planning was utterly pointless anyway, because Aaravos already knew about all of it due to some special power he had as a star. Or worse, maybe he could see through Callum’s corrupted eyes right now, and—
“Callum?”
Rayla’s whisper snapped him out of his spiral. He focused his eyes on her face, her concern visible even in the low light.
“Yeah?” he replied softly, trying to sound calm.
“Are you okay? Your heart started racing.”
“Oh, sorry. Did I disturb you?”
“I wasn’t pointing it out because you ‘disturbed’ me, dummy, I was pointing it out because I’m worried about you.” She sat up all the way and looked down at him, her hair falling around her face in a way that made her look angelic. “Are you okay?”
He shrugged. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“What am I ever thinking about?”
“Oh.” She frowned. “I had hoped that stargazing would take your mind off of that, not bring it more into focus.”
“Sorry.”
She smacked him lightly on the chest. “Stop apologizing, or I swear I’ll—”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed. “I guess I just… feel bad for ruining tonight. It was supposed to be something peaceful, for just us, but, I don’t know, he just- he overshadows everything. He spoils everything good.”
Rayla frowned, running her thumb across his forehead gently and brushing a white strand of hair to the side.
“Don’t let him ruin stargazing for you, Callum. He doesn’t deserve to.”
There was that word again. Callum sighed. “I wish it were that easy. I just don’t think I can look at the stars tonight without thinking about him.”
Rayla smiled sweetly. “Then don’t look at the stars.”
Callum cocked his head. “What? But the whole reason we came was—”
“Close your eyes.”
It was an order, not a suggestion, so Callum complied.
“Open your mouth.”
He frowned, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He trusted her, though, so he opened his jaw a little, and felt something small and cool drop into it. He pressed it against the roof of his mouth, covering his tastebuds with the distinctive tart juice of something he associated with Rayla.
“You brought moonberries?” he mumbled, mouth still full.
She giggled. “What sort of picnic would it be without any food?”
Callum smiled, opening his eyes and propping himself up to see that she had pulled a small basket out of a nearby bush. She held up another one and he obliged, opening his mouth and letting her place it delicately inside. She grinned at him, and he grinned back.
“When did you set this up?” he asked.
She shrugged nonchalantly, “A few days ago.”
“A few days!? Rayla, that’s—”
She shushed him, putting a finger to his lips. “Callum, people are sleeping.”
He nodded and she removed her finger, allowing him to continue in a whisper. “Rayla, that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
She gave him a playful scowl. “Sweeter than when we held a forage feast in your honor?”
“Sorry, that’s not what I was—”
“Up bup up, what’d I say about apologizing?”
“I’m not sure, actually, I kind of interrupted you earlier.”
“Well what I meant to say,” she scooted closer to him, until their legs brushed up against each other, “Was if you keep apologizing, I swear I’ll have to shut you up.”
She gave him a sly smirk. The starlight illuminated her face with its soft glow, and Callum felt his insides flutter. He grinned.
“I mean, if that’s what it takes, I guess I— mmph.”
She put her hands on either side of his face and pull him into a kiss. He melted against her lips, putting his arm around her waist and tugging her tunic to place her more on top of him. She pulled away after a moment and giggled into the air between them, their noses still touching.
“You taste like moonberries.”
“I wonder why.” He smiled against her lips, then pulled back a little further. He raised a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, then stared into her beautiful lilac eyes.
“Thank you,” he whispered, “for tonight.”
“Of course.” She hummed contentedly and curled back down into his chest.
Callum gave into the urge to kiss her on the forehead, then laid them both back down on the blanket. He looked at the sky for a moment before deciding it would be better to close his eyes and enjoy the present with the love of his life.
He didn’t think he deserved her, but then that was the thing about the world: it didn’t tend to give you what you deserved.
At some point in these past six or so months, being a night person had made Rayla—Rayla—somehow their de facto morning person too.
For the week around the full moon, anyway.
In a fortnight, Callum would be the one up out of bed at three in the morning—that was certain—and likely most of the other mornings of the month too.
Because of course he would—he’d do anything for her.
Sarai doesn’t seem to mind either way, though, whether it’s her or Callum who’s up with her when she can’t make it through the night…and what better way to have spent the last few sleepless, moonbright hours before dawn?
It is dawn now, though…and regrettably, she and little one can’t just flip through picture books and listen to Daddy snore into his pillow from across the room any longer.
“Do you want to go wake up your daddy? Hmm?” Rayla scoops her up while she coos, settling Sarai on her hip, a low whisper becoming sing-song at his bedside. “What do you think? Think he’s drooling? I bet he is—”
Callum snores himself awake, and yep—there’s a nice little trail of drying spit on his cheek to go with the sleepy crusties.
“Oh, hey, baby girl—” he breathes, voice creaking along with the bed as he scoots so that she can set Sarai on his stomach. “Need me to take her?”
“No, just time to come wake up sleepyhead,” she plops down at his waist, already licking a finger to smudge crusts of all kinds away. “Don’t panic but we have a meeting soon.”
The only reason he doesn’t bolt upright is the balancing the baby chewing on her fingers currently on his belly…but he does thrash backwards awfully dramatically for someone who’s not supposed to be panicking.
“Oh! Oh, shit—sorry—”
“I said don’t panic, dummy.” Rayla presses a hand over his heart as he—more carefully—sits up…and he obeys, scooting backwards against the headboard instead of getting to his feet. “We still have a while yet.”
“C’mere then?” he insists…and what, is she going to argue? While a nice big Callum-hand steadies Sarai, he lifts his other arm and—mmm. This might be the only bad part about early morning solo wake-ups: limited lazy sleepy snuggling. Callum breathes in deep against her scalp, letting a kiss linger right between her horns. “Mmm, love you so much.”
His skin’s still overheated from sleep, his shoulder firm and smooth under her cheek. “So sappy when you’re sleepy.”
Callum snickers and gathers Sarai up tighter, daring to angle her baby the tiniest bit away from her—
“Fine, we’ll keep our snuggles all to ourselves, thank you very much.”
—but Sarai is not having it, tiny baby fists opening and closing in Rayla’s direction. Callum helps her along, of course—
“Yeah, that’s right, Moonbeam! Get your mom!”
—until those tiny baby fists have grabbed right into her pajamas.
What’s an elven warrior to do? She goes down honorably…bested by a six-month old sprawled on her chest.
“Oof, I’ve been got.” She pulls Sarai the rest of the way up, earning a sweet, sweet baby giggle. “When'd you get so strong, hmm?”
…and as if this could get any better, Callum envelopes the both of them.
He gives out a few more kisses—a couple for their little one, and one for her cheek—and then gently slides Sarai back against his chest instead.
“Go get dressed, okay? I got her.” He and Sarai follow when she gets up, but they head through the nursery’s archway, Callum’s voice carrying until she’s gone the other way to the washroom. “Mmm, council meeting. I think your little red dress? Wanna match with Uncle Ez? I’ll bet—”
Rayla opens the washroom window and stretches out the stiffness of early morning quiet, sighing out low and long—
—and happy.
So happy.
--
I'm trying something new for ficlets! Want to leave me a comment or props? check out this fic on ellipsus! You can also see how this fic went from outline to final draft with the public version history and writing journey!
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I actually do think we should discourage women from becoming housewives. Do not become financially dependent on a man. That's how a lot of women ended up dead over the years. A man gets violent suddenly and you have to choose between homelessness or potentially dying at his hand because you have an enormous gap in your resume and no degrees or certifications or anything that will help you pursue a career that will allow you to be financially independent. He owns your bank account. His name is probably the one on the car. Try and leave and he can report it stolen. Where will you go then?
And if you do become a housewife, take steps to protect yourself. Make sure you’re legally married, for starters; stay-at-home girlfriends have very little legal recourse to claim their partner’s assets in a breakup. Make sure your name is on the house deed/rental agreement, and have your car in your name, even if your spouse is paying for it. Have your spouse transfer money every month into an account solely in your name, so you can buy yourself things without needing permission, but also so you can save up to leave if needed.
If your spouse fights you on any of this, then don’t quit your job. The tradwife to poverty pipeline is real, and so is financial abuse.
also, many women/people experience controlling behaviour and domestic violence from their partner for the first time during pregnancy. don’t risk thinking “he’s just stressed, it’ll get better when the baby comes” because it won’t. neither you and your child will ever be safe with that man. get out as early and safely as you can
important reminder that most people you follow online are significantly lamer than you think they are including me. and if you feel insecure comparing yourself to someone online: DON'T. theyre probably also lame and weird. most people on the internet are
Callum sat on the corner of the bed to take off his boots, sinking into the mattress. A smile tugged on his lips as he watched Rayla pull off her overcoat and dress down into her sleek Moonshadow pajamas. Three years married and the sight of her still took his breath away. She turned and smiled at him over her shoulder, running her fingers through her hair to undo the signature braid she’d adopted in recent months. Once it was all untangled, she made her way over to their bed.
She sat down on the bed slightly behind him, sliding her hand over his shoulder and down his chest. Callum let out a long sigh of contentment as she placed a gentle kiss at the base of his neck. She moved upwards, slowly trailing kisses closer and closer to his jaw. It would be so easy to just let her continue. To get lost in her scent and her lips and the feeling of her skin… but he couldn’t. Not tonight. Tonight he had something important to get off his chest.
“Rayla?”
“Hm?” She replied softly, not pausing her kisses.
“We need to talk.”
She stopped.
“Okay…” her voice was tentative as she scooted herself around to be directly next to him. “What’s up?”
Callum exhaled.
“Rayla,” he took her hands, smiling gently, “You have been… the best six years of my life.”
A concerned look spread across her face. “What are you—”
“Just…” He gave her hands a squeeze as he interrupted. “Let me finish.”
She closed her mouth and nodded, still looking worried.
“In exactly one year, the stars are going to align. Aaravos could— will come back.”
A small whimper escaped the back of Rayla’s throat at the topic, but she nodded, letting him continue. He faltered.
“And…we don’t know if— I need you—” He stopped, the words tangled in his throat. He looked down and away from her eyes, then let out a long breath. “This isn’t easy.”
He tried again. A different tactic this time.
“I was really little when my dad died. I don’t remember very much about that time, but I do remember his funeral.” Rayla squeezed his hands in comfort as he continued. “I remember my mom crying so much, and I remember… I remember worrying that I would never see her smile again.”
A small tear rolled down his cheek, and Rayla was quick to gently wipe it away. He sniffed, trying to regain composure.
“But then she met my stepdad. And fell in love.” He smiled, meeting Rayla’s eyes once more. “And she was happy. And they had Ezran, and she was really happy. The happiest I’d ever seen her.”
He sighed, trying to get his words right. “What I’m trying to say is… we don’t know what’s going to happen in a year. We don’t know what’s going to happen to me.”
Rayla caught on to what he was saying. “Callum…”
He held up a hand. He had to finish.
“If something happens to me; if I don’t… make it… I need to know that you won’t let it stop you from being happy.”
It was her turn to cry, the hot heavy droplets trailing the outline of the purple marks on her cheeks. Callum wished he could kiss them away, but he knew he’d get caught up in her, so he settled for mimicking her earlier movements and brushing them away with his thumb. He left his hand there, cupping her jaw, and waited for a response. She inhaled a shaky breath.
“Callum, I can’t…” she began, but then shook her head defiantly. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”
He sighed, deflating. He had been worried about this.
“Rayla, I wish I could agree with you about that, but the truth is something very well could happen to me.” She shook her head still, fully in denial, but he ignored it. “We need to talk about this now, while I’m still here. I need you to know that… that I’d be okay with you finding someone else.”
He forced the sentence out past the lump in his throat. He loved her. He would do anything for her. Her happiness in the future might hinge on these words, and so he had to say them. Even though he didn’t know whether or not he believed them. Rayla grabbed his wrist tightly, holding onto him like a lifeline.
“I don’t want someone else, Callum,” she pleaded, “I just want you.”
“And I will be yours for as long as I can be,” he promised, pressing his forehead against hers, “But—”
“No,” she said firmly, “No buts.”
He sighed again.
“Rayla—“
“No. I am not having this conversation with you. Not now. Not while we still have so much time.”
He took a breath, ready to argue, but she clamped her hand down firmly over his mouth.
“I will not dwell on these… what ifs, Callum. All that matters is right here. Right now.” She took her hand away, trailing it around the back of his neck. “And right now, I have you.”
He smiled sorrowfully, conceding the point.
“You have me,” he agreed.
She pulled him into a tight hug, and he let himself live in the moment. He breathed in her scent, felt the warmth of her cheek pressed against neck. He wished he could stay here, right here, forever. But he couldn’t. And even as she pulled him down onto the bed, and wrapped herself around him underneath the blankets, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someday they would need to confront this. He worried that when the day came, it would already be too late.
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