Disclaimer: I do not own The Dragon Prince or any of its original characters, nor do I make any profit off of my writing.

You're just going for a walk, Callum. You don't need an escort, Callum.

He sighed.

It was just his luck that something like this would happen.

It had been just over a month since King Harrow had disappeared on a secret mission with some of the crowns guard and Lord Viren at his side. Callum never did find out where exactly his step-father had gone (which, admittedly, was just what the king wanted). He didn't want to expose his sons' to the harsh reality of the world so soon, not before they were ready. Especially when they thought so highly of him to begin with (at least in Ezran's case). He didn't want them to know he struck down the Dragon King out of revenge for their mother, he knew that despite missing the woman desperately that they still wouldn't approve.

Things had been relatively peaceful in the capital city of Katolis. The skies were clear, the sun shown brightly, Callum got his daily dose of embarrassment in his spar with Soren. Everything was as it should be.

So, why was there a sword pressed against his throat and a hooded figure? That certainly wasn't in the schedule for the day.

He blinked up at the lithe figure in front of him. King Harrow always stressed the importance of first impressions, even if this person didn't seem to have gotten the same lessons, that didn't give Callum a reason to ignore them. He should probably start off.. formally? No.. formal greetings were best saved for the throne room and galas. He most certainly wasn't in the throne room and this most certainly wasn't a gala, so he should be fine to–

"Are you even listenin'?"

Callum sputtered.

"Uhhh.. "

Truthfully, he hadn't been, he didn't even realize she had spoken, and believe him he would have noticed. Her accent was amazing. What country did that even come from? He kind of wished he had been from there, at the very least he could speak all suave like her!

Blessedly, she retracted the blade from his neck before apparently deciding standing was just too much effort and promptly falling backward into the soft dirt with a slight grunt. It certainly didn't look like a comfortable way to lay back, but who was he to judge? He didn't know anything about her culture, maybe in the land of cool accents that was the best way to do it?

He hummed in thought briefly before deciding to follow her lead and give it a try. He stepped to the side and spun around so his back was facing her before spreading his arms wide and allowing gravity to punish him.

Thump!

"OW! Why would you do that!?"

The girl gave a strained laugh as she rolled her eyes beneath the shadows of her hood. Her fashion sense was unlike any that he'd seen in his brief visits to other kingdoms over the years. He'd occasionally accompany his father with Ezran when he went on diplomatic visits and he could confidently say he had no idea where it was that she was from.

"Ye're supposed to roll backward. Ye fall with no grace."

Funny. Soren had said something along the same lines to him earlier. Falling with grace seemed about as strange as learning to take a punch. Why would we need to do either if he just didn't fall or didn't get punched? It seemed counterintuitive.

He let a sigh escape his lips as the throbbing in his back ebbed before turning and glancing at the girl through the corner of his eyes. Her swords were laid out in the dirt and her hands were splayed out, palms up toward the heavens. She seemed completely at peace, which was nice, considering she didn't seem likely to kill him at the moment. "So.." The fabric of her hood shifted as she rolled her head to the side ever so slightly. He figured that she was turning to listen to him. "What were you saying before?"

She didn't answer for a moment, the silence stretching on long enough that Callum worried he had either offended her with his question or she had fallen asleep. Eventually, though, she spoke up again in a quiet voice. "It matters not."

He blinked. "It doesn't sound like it to me."

Her hood shifted once again as she turned away from him, her face lying almost parallel with the ground in the opposite direction from him. She didn't seem willing to speak so he pressed on, he wasn't really sure why exactly he was doing it, she had just had a sword to his neck, but she seemed sad and Ezran would try to comfort her.

Was it wrong to let your younger brother be your moral compass? Maybe, but Callum didn't care.

"It's your choice whether or not you want to speak, but I'll listen to you if you'd like to talk.. err.. I'll listen this time.. you sound.. " He paused before shaking his head, it was probably best to not say she sounded sad. "Well, whatever you choose, I'll just be laying right here, I didn't plan on heading back for a bit anyway and I don't think my back has forgiven me yet."

Her shoulders shook slightly in silent laughter which calmed his nerves somewhat. He was at least glad to see she wasn't mad at him, more out of survival instincts than anything. He did not want to make little miss stabby stab angry right now.

The silence between them stretched on once again, only the songs of the birds and the drifting winds to fill the void. It didn't bother Callum all that much, normally he would have taken the time to open his book up and do some drawings. Truthfully, he wouldn't mind doing a sketch of the girl beside him, but he found himself strangely calm as he laid there and unwilling to busy himself. It was a nice day, it was meant to be enjoyed.

He let out a deep sigh as his eyes followed an ant's journey across the unyielding terrain.

".. "

".. "

".. "

Okay, he lied, this was so boring!

Callum rolled around from his back to his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows. He pulled his sketchbook over his shoulder and leafed through the pages until he found an empty one. Now, he didn't want to scare her off by having her think he was drawing her. Apparently, that could come across as creepy (who knew?). So, he subtly brought his pencil down to the page and glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye and–

"What're you lookin' a'?"

"Buhh.. nothing?"

"Smooth."

Callum grumbled to himself as started sketching out the basic shape of this current muse. "If you must know, I'm drawing."

"I don' remember drawin' requirin' ye to look a' me?"

He snorted. "It does when I'm drawing you."

She stilled and he glanced over at her nervously. Slowly, she shifted to face him again and he frowned as all of his previous work was for naught with her moving about like that. "N' why would you be doin' tha'?"

"You look cool and I want to."

And it was true. Her.. armor? It looked like armor to him. Either way, what she was wearing was primarily decorated in shades of deep, forest greens and blacks. A tight-fitting combat suit that left her quick and flexible. Callum may not be gifted in the ways of combat, but he could recognize the practicality behind her outfit easily enough. It lends itself well to fast, quiet movement.

Atop the base armor, she wore a sleeveless, crop top-like hoodie that covered the majority of her head and cast deep shadows over her face. It was a shame he couldn't see what she looked like, it'd be nice to put a face with the voice, but that was probably by design.

She had a bracer on either forearm that extended from just beneath her elbows over her wrists and were tightened with leather straps in the same color as her belt. He hadn't been kidding earlier when he said it was unlike anything he had seen before. In the circles his father tended to walk, most of the people he met dressed in high-quality fabrics. Yet, none of them seemed to hold a candle to the elegant craftsmanship of her outfit.

Just where did she come from?

He could feel her gaze on him as he erased his previous rough outline and started over again. He was thankful that he hadn't pressed too heavily when he was marking it down, at least then he didn't have markings everywhere.

"I look.. cool?"

She seemed confused by the statement, which he didn't understand at all, has she seen herself? In response, Callum just gave a grunt and continued on working. He drew with his right hand, his left shifting between holding the page steady and propping his head up by the chin.

The girl hummed in thought but didn't comment any further, seemingly falling back into her own thoughts.

They stayed like that for a while, content for one of them to observe and illustrate while the other ruminated over everything that had gone wrong in her life as of late. Eventually, though, all good things must come to an end, and the cloaked figure made to stand and slink back into the woods. She only paused when a hesitant 'will I see you again?' reached her ears.

Why would the boy want to see her again? She had placed a blade to his throat with the intention of forcing information out of him about how to sneak into the castle so she could assassinate his king. Sure, he hadn't heard her questioning him about that second bit, but the point stands that it still happened.

So why?

Not even her–

She cut off the thought before it began and repressed the memories, pushing them deeper and deeper to where they won't come up again.

In lieu of a verbal response, she merely waved over her shoulder to the boy and disappearing amongst the trees of the forest. She didn't think to cover her hands and hide the easily visible four fingers, but she couldn't bring herself to care. If the boy wished her dead, then the guards would be after her before nightfall and she will have failed her self-appointed mission.

Callum watched her go, his eyes tracking her hooded face before she dissolved into the shadows. For a moment he just watched the tree branches shift listlessly from side to side as the wind cut in and out, giving himself the time to relax and breathe. It wasn't that he feared her, no, oddly enough he didn't fear her at all. Even when the sword had been pressed to his neck it never seemed like she actually planned on hurting him.

How odd.

The brown-haired boy rose to his feet and collected his book from the ground, slinging it back over his shoulder and walking down the path back toward the city.

No matter what, he was coming back tomorrow.

…

Rayla didn't know why she came back to the clearing. She really didn't. It was a risk, a wholly unnecessary one, but.. that boy had been the first person she'd been able to talk to normally since crossing the border.

It was nice.

It was something she didn't think she would have missed.

And– and even if he was a human boy and they were technically enemies. Even if she had come here with the intention of murdering his king. Even if she was a Moonshadow elf and an assassin. It was just nice to talk normally to somebody else.

So, she sat up on the branches of one of the great oak trees that lined the clearing and wondered if she was simply being foolish to think he would come back. It wasn't like she had answered him and told him she'd be here, she hadn't said anything at all. He had no reason to come back.

And yet, despite it all, he walked into the clearing almost at the exact same time as the day before. His sketchbook was still hung over his shoulder, the leather strap extending from his left shoulder to his right hip to support it. He was wearing the exact same clothes as the day before, making her wonder briefly if he only owned the same outfit or if he just wore dirty clothes again. She at least had the excuse of not being home to change, but him? What excuse did he have?

He still wore that blue jacket and bright red scarf despite the fact that it was nowhere near cold enough to be necessary. Sure, they were at the tail end of the winter months now, but the Kingdom of Katolis was temperate at best. The entire country laid on the southern half of the continent and was warmer than any of the other members of the Pentarchy. Maybe it was a human thing? Did they not feel temperature? Or maybe they were just stupid? Either one was a possibility, she didn't know much about them besides the stuff she was taught in her village.

She couldn't see any other reason for him to be dressed so warmly despite the weather. She'd give him the benefit of the doubt on the pants, she was wearing pants too. But layers? Ridiculous.

The boy stood in the entrance of the clearing and glanced around for a moment before sighing to himself and moving to plop down against a tree. His eyes continued to scan the forests as if expecting somebody before he eventually just gave up and pulled his book over into his lap.

Oddly enough, he didn't immediately start drawing like he had the day before. Instead, choosing to leaf through the earlier pages and pausing every so often to look at his work.

Rayla glided from tree to tree with practiced ease, circling the clearing and staying out of sight until she was hanging just above the boy.

"Whatcha doin'?"

He screamed.

She laughed.

He didn't calm down for a while and she could definitely see him as more on the 'love' side of 'make love, not war.' Eventually, he was able to speak and politely informed her that he was just looking at places he'd been in the past. Like any good assassin trained to stick to the shadows and not be seen, Rayla promptly dropped from her seat on the branch and fell into a crouch beside him. Silently, she made a grabbing motion with her fingers in a silent question before jumping back into the trees when the book was dropped into her hands.

Now, she had a very, very good reason for doing this and she would be happy to explain why.

Obviously, it would be good to gather as much information on the king and the castle as possible and if he has good drawings then it could help her traverse the halls. Which is precisely why–

"Ugh! I am noh' tha' fat!"

–she spent the entire time looking at the drawing of herself.

The boy beneath her at least had the right idea and acted apologetic, but honestly, how could he do that to her! So rude!

"I didn't mean to! I just drew what I saw and wait– !"

"Oh? Is tha' so? So yer sayin' I am fat?"

"No!"

"Then what are ya' sayin'?"

He sputtered, wringing his hands together as he fruitlessly tried to come up with a reasonable excuse. All the while, the assassin lounging above him was trying her hardest not to immediately break into hysterics as she watched.

It was so easy!

In truth, the drawing was amazing. The only problem she had with it was that he made her just a tad too beautiful. Even without her face shown she still looked radiant and as honored as she was to see if she couldn't help but be a little hurt by it. There was no reason to stretch the truth. She was happy with how she looked; she didn't need some nerdy guy embellishing.

She considered dropping the book on his hands to break him out of his worrying but decided against it. Whether he changed the drawing or not she wasn't going to be rude and risk damaging the book like that. It was obviously important to him. Why she cared she could never say, they were enemies but at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to do something like that.

The bag was dangled down by the strap connected to its spine and waved back and forth in front of the boy's face. "I was jus' messin' with ya, no need to get all worried. Though, ya' could do without alterin' the drawin', I don't look tha' bad, do I?"

He sputtered even as she laughed. "I didn't change anything! I just drew what I saw!"

Well that was.. flattering. She wasn't really sure how to respond to that. How many comments had this boy let slip now? She was pretty sure that was the third (not like she'd been keeping track, absolutely not). But, if she had been keeping track, she was pretty sure he'd commented on her accent, her clothes, and her appearance now. So, yeah, that's three.

Rayla rolled her eyes beneath her hood and reclined back against the tree. Her legs were extended upward along the trunk of the large tree, either one swinging idly with her heels occasionally thumping against the bark. The sound of scribbles on paper filled the air just as it had the day prior. She tilted her head to the side and peered down at the boy at the exact same time as he glanced up for reference on his newest drawing.

The two blinked owlishly at one another before deciding – in perfect synchronization – to turn back to where they were looking originally and pretend it never happened.

And that was how the time passed, neither of them speaking and merely content to sit in one another's company.

It wasn't until the sixth day that Rayla actually worked up enough courage to ask the one question that had been echoing through her mind with each streak of his pencil.

"Why do ya' keep comin' back?"

The scribbling stopped and for a moment it was like they were back in the first day, with nothing to separate the silence but the songs of the birds and the rustling of the leaves.

Then he spoke.

"I already told you, I was here to listen."

".. "

"Also, I like your accent."

Rayla snorted and actually allowed herself a full smile as she popped a berry into her mouth up on her branch. Callum (yes, she had asked for his name on the third day, he hadn't seemed to be bothered by her not giving one in return) had already gotten a drawing done of her holding said berries, so she was free to eat.

Now that she wouldn't have eaten before it, she didn't want to, she wasn't doing it because the human told her to. That would be ridiculous.

She didn't speak up right away and Callum didn't pressure her to. It was nice, this arrangement, she enjoyed it.

Still, she couldn't help but want his feedback on her problem, as weird as it sounds. He may not understand at all, but it couldn't hurt to ask.

"I.. "

She paused briefly as she collected her thoughts, immediately taking note of how his pencil stopped moving just like every other time she started to speak.

"What would you do if you were punished for something that had nothing to do with you?"

He hummed. "Well, that depends. What I would do depends entirely on what happened, doesn't it?"

"I.. suppose. My parents were given a job, one they were bound by honor to do even if it ended in their deaths. When the day finally came when they would have'ta face tha' challenge, they," she signed, "they ran." Callum didn't say anything, but she didn't really expect him to just yet. He was waiting for the rest of the story. "My village didn' take too kindly to tha' and rules are strict. I wa' banished despite my foster parent's protests and I don't know wha' to do now."

She waited silently for him to speak, having said her piece and letting him fill the role he said he would. "That's.. horrible." Rayla blinked. She couldn't say she expected that. Then again, he was a human and this was elven culture. She shouldn't expect him to understand or even accept their values. She told him as much, omitting the difference in races, but including the part where he didn't understand.

"It's not about understanding, to banish you from your home? The place where your family lives? To send you away and say to never come back because of something that wasn't even your fault? It's not right, no matter the culture. You deserve better than that."

Rayla didn't move from her seat on the tree branch, she didn't even fidget, but that didn't stop the silent tears from beading in the corner of her eyes and slipping down the sides of her face before dropping down into the back of her hood.

Wasn't it fair?

It was cutting the weed out at the roots, that's how it had always been described to her. It was normal for similar situations. If there was a bad crop, you don't let it fester, you don't waste resources on it, you cut it out and start again.

That's why she came here. It's why she was in Katolis.

She was going to prove she wasn't what they thought she was.

She knew they were planning revenge on the King who slew Avizandum. If she could get to him first, if she could take him down, she knew they would accept her with open arms.

And then, the first person she found, she couldn't even interrogate him right. Hell, he was sitting below her right now!

All she had done since she left the safety of Xadia's borders was prove her people right.

She was bad crop. She was no better than her parents who abandoned their duty to protect the prince of the dragons. She couldn't even follow through on her job as an assassin and slay King Harrow.

She left quietly that day, not bothering to say goodbye to her friend as she disappeared amongst the trees. Callum wouldn't notice until he looked up, but that would be okay. She trusted him to come back tomorrow, she could apologize then.

She needed to be alone.

…

He's late.

It was all she could think.

Maybe she had overestimated their friendship, maybe he decided that as soon as he did what he promised to do that there was no reason to stick around her.

Maybe.. maybe he thought she was bad crop too.

It wasn't like Rayla could blame him, she couldn't fault him for thinking like that. It didn't stop the people who knew her all her life from thinking the same. He's only known her for a few days, and 'know' was incredibly relative here. He knew her about as well as she knew her parents. And that was the worst part, wasn't it? She was punished for her parents' deeds when she had barely known the people. It was Runaan and Ethari who raised her. They were the only parents she truly knew.

In the end, knowing her hadn't mattered at all. Runaan and Ethari were the only two who cared, maybe Callum had just been the same the entire time.

Rayla glanced up into the sky and sighed. The moon was long gone, so she couldn't rely on it to tell the time accurately, but she could guess well enough based on the sun.

A half an hour had passed since their normal meeting time.

He hadn't shown up.

Still, she would wait.

What did she have to lose? Time? She had plenty of that, with nothing to do.

So, she would wait.

And hope.

…

Callum was late, he knew that, but it wasn't like he could help it! He didn't know how Ezran was so good at navigating the vents in the castle but he could say he was severely lacking in that regard.

The one downside to having a secret, mystery friend is that it is very (and he means very) difficult to keep said friend secret and mysterious. Doubly so when you are second in line to the throne of the kingdom. He spent most of his days trying to figure out the best way to sneak away from the guards posted outside his doors and make it out into the woods.

Now, he had to add on figuring out how to steal jelly tarts from the royal baker.

In the end, he was caught and tartless. Of course, he should have just done this to begin with, but that couldn't be fixed now.

He raised his hand up and knocked on the door.

Ezran opened it up and smiled widely at him while Bait croaked in his arms.

"Ezran, I need your help."

Despite his serious voice, the younger boy couldn't help but light up at the prospect. Stealing baked goods for one's own enjoyment? Good, but ultimately left one with an unpleasurable feeling. (The crown prince had heard adults refer to it as.. guilt?) Stealing baked goods for another's enjoyment? That was the best.

It's why the young prince always chose to bring Bait with him. Well, that and the glow toad would be particularly disgruntled if he didn't.

Thirty seconds after the offer was made, his younger brother reappeared with a tray chock full of baked goods of all kinds. He hadn't messed around when it came to Callum's friend, consequences be damned, he was going to make sure they got what they wanted.

Callum blinked down at the assortment as Ezran held it up in front of him and chuckled nervously.

"Uhh.. Ez? I don't think I need that many, how about you keep some for yourself?"

As soon as the words left his mouth have the tray disappeared and Ezran raised it a little higher now than it was lighter.

Callum could only laugh as he graciously accepted it and parted ways.

He was an hour late by the time he arrived in the clearing, already knowing it was very likely that she didn't stick around. With the added time from his own failed attempts of stealing the food to the changes in guard shifts with his later escape from his bedroom, he ended up fairly late.

Still, he could hope she was still here and he didn't upset her.

"Mystery girl?"

There was no answer.

"Are- are you here?"

Nothing.

Callum sighed.

"I'm really sorry about being late, I didn't mean to be. I was trying to do something and it took longer than I thought it would, but I'm here now so.. "

There was a sound in the woods to his right, one that he couldn't quite discern between the rustle of shifting leaves and a sniffle. Either way, it was a lead.

He shuffled over to where the noise came from slowly. Tentatively, he took a step under the cover of the trees and glanced around. If there was one thing he'd learned from his week with the hooded girl, it was that if she didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be. The only times he ever actually saw her was when she wanted to be found.

Which is why he was confused when he spotted her away in the trees.

Crying.

This was his fault.

But why did she let herself be found? Everything he'd seen from the girl had pointed to her being reserved about herself, the idea that she'd let him see her cry was.. it didn't seem right.

".. mystery girl?"

He really needed to learn her name.

She stilled before her hood shifted over to where he stood, her head lifting up from between her knees. It was like she didn't expect him to show at all. He hated that. That wasn't what he wanted her to think of him.

Still, it didn't seem like she planned on talking to him, so he'd just have to fill that gap.

"I– I thought you might be getting tired of finding food in the woods and– and with you being away from home you wouldn't have anything good to eat. I'm sorry I'm late but I just.. "

He trailed off and opted to just sling the backpack off of his shoulders and hold it up to her, hoping that she would simply accept it without complaint.

She glanced at the bag but didn't make any move to grab it. He sighed internally.

"I though' you were gonna leave me."

Why would–

She hiccupped, "though' you saw what my village saw in me n' left."

He shook his head fervently. "No! I'm not going to do that, we're friends, right? I'm not going to leave you for something like that. I like you."

She didn't believe him, but that didn't mean he failed in making her feel even the slightest bit better.

Slowly, she climbed down from the trees and sat down between the roots, patting the spot to her side in a silent invitation.

He was all too happy to plop down beside her and place the bag down between them.

It was ten minutes later, in between her monstrous inhalation of the sweets that only Ezran and Bait could match, that she spoke again.

"Rayla," she said simply.

Callum cocked his head to the side and furrowed his eyebrow, a silent question hidden in his eyes.

"My name."

He smiled and stuck his hand out.

"It's nice to meet you, Rayla. I hope we can be friends."