Chapter 22
Morning Light
The night was quiet, unnaturally still, a silence that should have brought peace, but only amplified Eirin’s unease. He’d hoped a walk in the cool air might calm the turmoil in his chest, a lingering effect of recent events.
Passing Sorcha’s house, however, he froze.
Screams carried by the wind pierced the night.
His heart hammered, a wave of heat washing over him as he sprinted to her door, pounding on it with desperate force.
“Sorcha!” he yelled, but there was no answer.
He tried the windows, searching for an opening.
The screams continued, frantic and terrifying, sending panic through Eirin.
His lungs tightened, fists clenched; he was ready to lash out at anything.
Racing around the other side of the house, the screams grew louder.
An open window offered an entry point. Without a second thought, he climbed through, landing silently inside.
The room was dim, moonlight barely illuminating Sorcha, tangled in her sheets, thrashing wildly.
Terror fueled her screams as she punched and kicked at the twisted bedding, her movements wild and uncoordinated.
“Sorcha,” Eirin called softly, approaching her carefully. “Sorcha, it’s okay. It’s Eirin.”
She didn’t hear him at first. Her fists were still swinging as she screamed. Eirin knelt beside her, gently gripping her shoulders.
“Sorcha, it’s me. It’s Eirin,” he said again. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”
Her movements slowed as her wide eyes she finally saw him. For a moment, she stared at him as if he were a stranger, her chest heaving, her breaths coming in quick gasps.
“Eirin?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Confusion and terror rippled across her face. She pressed a shaking hand to her temple. “How?” She rubbed her eyes and then her head. “How did you get in here?”
Eirin’s gaze flicked to her hand as she pulled it away. There in the moonlight, red gleaming droplets spilled over the floor, running down her fingertips as they made contact with the floor.
“You’re hurt,” he whispered, helping her sit up. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Eirin reached for her, helping her to her feet, keeping a steadying hand on her arm as they made their way to the kitchen. Sorcha swayed slightly, still dazed, her fingers brushing her temple as though trying to piece together what had happened.
He guided her to her chair in front of the fire, grabbing a clean cloth, and a bowl of water.
Eirin spoke over the bowl, the color pulsing a faint blue as it pulsed for a moment before fading.
He dabbed the cloth in water and gently placed it on Sorcha’s forehead, wiping away the sweat.
He worked his way down her arm and cleaned her hand before carefully washing the blood from her hair.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he explained quietly as he worked. “I went for a walk and heard you screaming. When you didn’t answer the door, I found the open window and came in.”
Sorcha winced as the cloth touched her head, but she didn’t pull away. “I don’t remember,” she muttered, her voice distant. “It felt so real, Eirin. Like I was really there.”
Eirin finished cleaning the cut and grabbed a small bag of ice, wrapping it in a towel before handing it to her. “Hold this against your head,” he instructed.
As she did, Eirin turned on the kettle. He leaned against the counter, watching her carefully, his concern etched onto his face.
“You were sleeping when I found you. It must have been a dream,” he said softly, “but whatever it was, it must have been horrible.”
Sorcha looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and lingering fear. “It was more than that,” she whispered, clutching the ice pack against her head. “It didn’t feel like just a dream.”
Eirin looked at Sorcha. “I’m haunted by my dreams too.”
His gaze now on the teakettle, he poured them each a cup, the gentle clinking of porcelain breaking the silence. Sitting down beside her, he placed a comforting hand on her back.
Sorcha met his gaze, her voice trembling as she spoke. “I’m grateful you arrived when you did…” Her eyes glistened, holding back tears that threatened to spill.
Eirin offered to stay the night, settling into the chair in the living room in front of the hearth, just outside her bedroom.
Sorcha kept her door open that night. She felt like a scared child again, afraid of the dark, needing the light and the comforting presence of another person.
It brought her a sense of calm knowing he was there, and as she watched him from her bed, sleep eventually claimed her.
Eirin leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. Sorcha’s breathing was slow, deep but even in sleep, she tossed and turned. She didn’t let herself settle, even now.
He wanted to say something, but would she really listen? Eirin already knew the answer. He shook his head softly and slowly slumped onto the floor, his head resting on the door frame as he sat and watched over her.
When morning broke, the aroma of breakfast filled the air, eggs, toast, jam, and meats. The tantalizing smells beckoned her awake. Sorcha sat up slowly, her head spinning slightly as she rubbed the back of it, feeling the large lump that had formed where she had hit it.
She couldn’t distinguish whether the injury came from her fall or the nightmare. Her mind began to race with questions and fragmented memories, but the clinking of dishes and cups pulled her back to the present.
The smell of roasted coffee and crisp bacon hit Sorcha the moment she stepped into the kitchen. Eirin stood at the stove, sleeves rolled up, looking fantastic, even in an apron. He didn’t glance up “You drooling, or just impressed?”
She scoffed. “Depends. Did you actually cook all this, or do I need to check for a bribed tavern maid?”
The table was laden with tea, coffee, fresh juice, toast with jam, venison sausages, bacon, and the most perfectly cooked runny eggs she had ever seen sitting alongside some freshly picked flowers.
Sorcha paused in amazement, her eyes on Eirin and she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.
Eirin, setting down the utensils in his hands, returned the hug without hesitation.
His hands caressed her back as he pulled her closer.
The hug lingered longer than she had intended, but she didn’t pull away.
She hadn’t realized how much she needed it until then.
When she finally stepped back, “Well, come on, Chef. We can’t let this get cold. If I’m being honest, I haven’t made anything for breakfast besides toast in so long… I’m way too excited about this.”
Eirin chuckled. “I’ve been told I’m pretty decent in the kitchen,” he teased, “And after the nights we’ve both had, we need something to eat if we’re going to survive today. “
“Well, Eirin Oak, I feel pretty privileged to see this side of you,” Sorcha said with a smirk.
Eirin was still laughing and shaking his head as he flipped her off playfully before bringing their cups to the table. They sat and had the delicious breakfast he had prepared, laughing and enjoying each other’s company, the tension of the previous night melting away.
As they finished eating and tidying up, Eirin stood in the doorway, turning back to face her. “If you need anything, let me know,” he said, his tone firm but kind. “I’ll let the Commander know you won’t be on patrols today. You need some time to yourself. I’ll hand in the report.”