The restraints pulled hard against him, and suddenly, he couldn't move at all. He couldn't reach her. He couldn't reach any of them. It was over.
And when the looming shadow of the False King appeared over him, sword in hard, it was all Cailean could do to close his eyes and wait for it to be over.
"Easy. Easy."
Cailean woke with a gasp, sweat soaking his nightclothes, but a gentle hand on his face kept him from completely giving into the panic. Maeve's soothing voice and comforting touch slowly brought him back to reality. She was an anchor in the storm, reminding him of where he was and where he should be.
"Just breathe, me love," Maeve murmured in his ear as she brushed his fair hair off his face.
"I… I'm all right," he assured her after a few moments had passed. "I'm all right. It was just a bad dream. Nae more than that."
His grey eyes had adjusted to the morning darkness now, and he saw that beautiful face watching over him. His Maeve. His warrior. His heart and soul. Knowing that she was here with him was usually enough to wipe away the horror of his regular nightmares, but today, unease still flickered inside him.
"The usual dream?" Maeve asked him. Cailean sat up, and Maeve shifted slightly on the bed to give him room. He put his arm around her, and she leaned against his chest. "About what happened in yer childhood?"
"It started that way," he told her. "But then…"
He trailed off. Through the window of their room in the still-standing Bruce Castle, he could see the first rays of the sunrise beginning to create the pink of dawn in the sky. No matter what happened, the cycle continued—light into darkness into light,day to night and day again. It should have made him feel more relaxed, the same way these thoughts usually did, but…
He'd spent a long time having given up on hope until Maeve had come back into his life and brought the light back to him again. The shining sun had arrived and brought dawn over the darkness at last. But…just because the sun had risen, didn't it follow that it would set again? And when it did, would they be ready?
The dream battered away at Cailean's subconscious, refusing to disappear. The False King had been nothing but a shadow in the nightmare, but shadows were all around him now, even as the dawn grew brighter. And though they had won the victory over Darach, he was only one of the False King's agents in the country, just a small example of a much larger threat that still loomed over them all. It had only been a dream, but Cailean knew he had a long, long fight ahead of him if he were to truly retake his family's throne and return Scotland to her full strength. At the end of that road, the False King was waiting, ready and willing, and able to slaughter everyone whom Cailean had ever loved.
"Cailean?" Maeve asked again. She lifted her head from his chest to look at him properly. "It started that way, but then what?"
He meant to tell her the details; he really did. But…it had just been a dream. There was no point in scaring her, not now. They'd spent the weeks since their victory over the Darachs sending out letters, trying desperately to gather the help they needed from clans all over Scotland, but they'd barely gotten any responses and those who had responded had not been kind. They were all living in stress and fear already, and Cailean would not put more on her over just a dream.
"Then ye woke me," he told her. "Nothin' more." He kissed her gently on the top of her head. "And I was lucky enough that yer gorgeous green eyes were the first thing I saw."
Maeve laughed a little. "Dinnae be so daft," she told him. "Ye couldnae even see when ye woke—the sun's only just risin' now."
He moved around and pressed his lips to hers in a deep, lingering kiss that bid her good morning in the best way he knew how. When they broke apart, he murmured, "Ye're wrong.It doesnae matter how dark it is or where we are. I can always, always see ye."
"Ye big soft man," she told him in a fond voice. "Imagine what Darren would say if he heard ye spoutin' such romance"
"Darren will find his sunlight eventually," Cailean promised her. "One that'll drive his shadows away too, just like ye've done with mine."
"Ye think even our flirty, carefree Darren has shadows?" Maeve asked teasingly.
"We all do, me love," Cailean replied. In his mind's eye, the image from the end of his dream still lingered, the False King standing above him with a sword while his friends and family lay dead around them. "Ye ken that better than anyone. We just need tae help each other through it."
Maeve kissed him lightly again. "I think it's time we broke our fast. Shall we make our way down tae the kitchens and see if we can steal somethin' from the cooks?"
Cailean smiled, but his stomach was still roiling. The images from the dream were not fading away, and he wanted to take some time to think about why it was affecting him so badly—and maybe even what it could mean. Was he the type of person who believed that dreams could mean something? A while ago, he would have said no, but today…after everything he'd been through, after everything they'd all been through…he would befoolish to not at least acknowledge every potential warning that the world threw at him.
"I'm nae hungry yet, love," he told her. "Why dinnae ye go down and get somethin'? I'll wait here."
Maeve frowned. "And what will ye do in the meantime?" she asked. "While I'm down rustlin' breakfast? Will ye sit here and brood?"
"I was thinkin' I'd sit here and…"
"So,aye," Maeve told him. "Well, I happen tae think that's nae a good use of the king's time."
He still wasn't used to the sound of that—of people calling him king—but it didn't make him flinch like it used to, especially not coming from her.
Maeve draped her arms around his neck and moved herself up, positioning herself over his legs so that their faces were close. The weight of her on his lap was comforting, and he wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her close.
"So," he asked when their noses touched, "Whatisa good use of the king's time?"
