A/N: OWWWWWWW. okay, so turns out the process of removing wisdom teeth wasn't so bad, it's the recovery. So... I'm sorry for being behind but expect this for at least the upcoming week as I am incredibly uncomfortable. Seriously, I had issues just trying to proof read this and it was not fun. Having no beta tends to do that to ya.

So yeah, I'll be a bit delayed in updates so apologies in advance and thank you for your patience. Anyways, day 2, Mistakes/Amends.

Chapter Summary: Rayla had her own demons to settle before she could settle in the place Callum called his home. What's forgotten isn't forgiven, and she has her own declarations to make...

Word Count: 1,818

Atonement

Rayla kept her hood up high as she walked down the stone path. The scarce droplets of rain weren't exactly the motivators for why she kept her face covered, as she felt that respectfully, it was more appropriate. Her descending steps splashed with each puddle, filling the null sounds of pattering rain with her heavy footsteps. A part of her wished it was deafening silence, just so she could suffer in some sort of agony but she's outright grateful that there's any noise to begin with. It was easier for her to collect her thoughts with something to ground her.

Usually, it'd be Callum doing that for her, but she needed to do this alone. She owed it to him to do this alone.

She finally reached the bottom of the stair path, and followed the stone path down and into the depths of the canyon. The small illuminated torches, revealing the way forward. Hesitance held her back as she marched on, eyes darted low, with her head hanging. She felt… like a trespasser. She had already debated with herself long beforehand, wondering if she had any right to do this. If she earned this at all. Just because she—they, saved the world a month ago, didn't mean she had been forgiven. She wasn't some hero. She didn't deserve to be here.

Familiar thoughts of guilt crept up in her mind once again, and her pace slowed immensely. Maybe this was a bad idea. As her boots stomped she felt like the path behind was lighter, and that perhaps turning back would be easier than trudging forward. She couldn't wait for Callum to get to bed. She couldn't socialize during dinner with everyone else. She couldn't do anything. It was bothering her all day. But with each second she neared, she felt more conflicted. So what if it was bothering her? That didn't justify this invasiveness.

Suddenly she found the stone path before her lit up. She raised her head and swallowed her nerves at the sight of her goal in front of her. A large, stone pedestal stood right before her. A large stone statue of a man stood tall and firm, with a broadsword placed in front of him, embedded into the pedestal with his hands folded atop its pommel. His head hung low, as if meant to stare down those before him, with his crown perfectly sculpted on his head. The inscription on the pedestal read, For Our King Who Stood Until the End.

Rayla gulped. It was as all the paintings and sketches Callum had shown her. It was King Harrow. The man she was sent to kill, the man Runaan, her mentor, murdered. The man whose death changed so much. Her target. Their King.

Her boyfriend's father.

Callum had told her before of his complicated history with his father, step-father. He had been far too young to even remember his blood father, but he had told her he came to terms with that early on, as he had passed not long after. Harrow was a special case, as he was the king. Callum always perceived himself as someone distant from him. He wasn't ever his father, or step-father, he was King. He placed him on a pedestal no different from the one before her right now, and imagined he wasn't worthy of being his son; Callum thought himself to be someone outside of the family.

"He never even heard me call him, Dad," he told her. Tears had fallen so much that night she held him as he spoke. "I was… I was right outside that door."

Her heart ached. Outside, right in the middle of all the fighting caused by her people—by her comrades. She would've been one of them too. Slashing through guards and breaking down that door. She probably would've been there to see it happen. To see Runaan—

She instinctively lowered her head, guilt rising up within her as her knees gave out. She dropped to the ground, kneeling before the statue with a stiffness in her back she wished would break. She knew who did it. Runaan had the arrow, he wouldn't have shot it unless he knew the job was done. He wasn't one to shy away from his duties. He would be the one leading the charge, no doubt sacrificing everything he could to accomplish the mission. Her mentor… killed Callum's father.

Tears began swelling up in her eyes as she recalled her and Callum's moment together, during that one rainy day, discussing their deaths. Callum wasn't stupid, he knew Runaan might've been the one to do it. She had apologized, and Callum had done so too, for everything his father had done to Xadia before. Both sides wronged, but this was different. Rayla's mouth felt so dry, yet, she managed to gaze up at Harrow. Staring into his soulless eyes as she sighed.

"I'm sorry that I never got to meet ya. And that even if I did, it still wouldn't have been under the best circumstances." Her voice was hoarse and quiet. She didn't earn this right… but Callum, Ezran… Harrow, deserved it. "I-I know that that day changed a lot for ya. And… I-I wish I wasn't apart of that." She took a deep breath as she shook her head. "I… I'm sorry I carried a-a sense of anger, of vengeance when I entered your home. I…"

She had no idea what would have happened if Ezran didn't find Zym. Or if the egg was never real in the first place. She…

"I-I think I would've done it. K… Killed him…" she whispered. "Or-Or maybe not… I'm not sure… part of me wants to believe I'd never do that to him, that I could never but—" she glanced up once more, feeling the droplets of rain bounce off her tear streamed face.

He was a good man. Flawed, no doubt. But he was a good man. And a great father. She almost took that from him. And… she made Callum lose that. The what if's were a conversation she had plagued over time and time again. It didn't happen. It didn't. But if it did. And for the short time she had been fighting against them, she did it earnestly. That was what scared her.

A second sooner, and things would've been different.

"I'm sorry… your Highness…" she pleaded, lowering her head once more with her eyes shut tight. "I'm… I'm sorry that I played a hand in your death. And that I'm now here, with your son… actin' like any of this is okay… Because I know it's not. Ya.. Ya deserved to see him as he is now. Ya deserved to see him become the person he is today… to-to, be proud, in person. Not as a memory…" she sniffed, as she shook her head, "But as a father. An actual, living, breathin', happy dad."

She brought her hands up to her chest, clenching them fiercely over her heart as she sobbed. "I… I swore, 'My heart for Xadia,' but I just—I can't help but think about how misplaced it was. How… what I would've done would've just, continue the cycle. That, nothing would've changed… except more violence and conflict. And-And that was what happened. What had driven your kingdom well past the brink of war.

"Right now, all I can think about is how my heart is in between. I'd gladly fight for Xadia, and for Katolis… because that was what our stand was about. Unity. But…" she could do this. She had to. She found her footing and stood up from her spot, staring up at Harrow once more. She clenched her fists as she let her arms drop to her sides. She felt like shaking, like turning away and shutting her mouth, but she wanted to go on, even if it was a ramble. "I don't know where I belong. I… I don't know what it is I'm supposed to be. I just, I'm sorry this revelation wasn't one that came before I came here to—y'know. But... I want ya to know…"

She took one more deep breath, and smiled a proud smile up at him. "My heart? It will always lie with him. I know it. Be it for his kingdom, or my people, I know I will stand with him no matter what. I-I know I can be conflicted… and confused… and… misguided. I know I have a lot of what if's that… that could've made me a worse Elf. But he helped me. He guided me. And I-I want ya to know… I promise… this isn't a mistake."

She brought her right hand up to her chest, "My heart for him… because I know he's worth it. Just like… just like ya knew too."

It felt like a weight was lifted, just ever so slightly. As she turned around and walked, she carried herself with more confidence this time. Maybe because it was easier to walk away. Or, perhaps it was because it was the right thing to do.

She wasn't sure exactly.

Rayla made her way back into the castle, strolling through the corridors with a sense of clearness she had not had the last time she wandered through. Her footsteps weren't as heavy or dreadful. She felt… comfortable. To be able to walk through the halls of the same place she had once set out to infiltrate. She found her way back to her room—their room. She opened their door and stepped inside, not at all surprised to find Callum in bed, sketching.

He glanced up and smiled. "What happened to you? After dinner you said you'd wait here while I finished up with everyone else but…" She wordlessly walked over to the bed, watching as he worriedly put aside his book and pencil on the nightstand. "You okay, Ray?"

She slid herself in right beside him, and hugged Callum. Nothing too firm, too meaningful, just enough. "Yeah… I am. I was just… sortin' some stuff out is all."

She felt him nod against her shoulder as he slowly rubbed her back. "And?"

She pulled away, smiling into his grassy green eyes as she brought her hands up to his cheeks. "I love ya. And I'm glad we met. That's all."

He smiled immediately, obviously a part of him had questions, but her declaration seemed to satisfy him for now because he brought his hands up to hers and pulled them down. He intertwined their fingers together, like she always liked: his five for her four. He held her firmly as he pecked each hand with a soft touch. "I know."

With that, the two slowly tucked themselves in, holding onto each other as they stared into each other's eyes, waiting for sleep to overtake them.

She was sure about this. She knew that for certain.

A/N: I know it was short, but the story I wanted to tell focused on Rayla exclusively and I felt like it made more sense to pile on that idea. Sorry if it wasn't enough. I really don't have much to say other than the repeated: "expect delays, sorry I'm sorry, thanks for your patience" whole deal.

Kinda just in a hurry, so sorry!

Review Responses:

mdauben: Glad you liked it! I had fun writing Tiadrin and Harrow, as I think they'd get along great much like their spouses do with each other. I just picture a whole wholesome six parental family looking after two kids they ship dearly. Hope you liked this prompt too!

Thanks for reading, please leave a review/comment. And next one is Travel, which y'all already know since I'm a day behind... :(

Until next time,

- Bleh