He let her settle. He let the quiet return, but he did not mistake the silence for peace.
“What did ye dream?” he asked at last, careful not to disturb what little calm she had regained.
Elaina stilled slightly against him. He felt the hesitation. Her fingers curled faintly into his chest, as though holding herself in place, as though the answer was something she did not easily give.
“It was nothing,” she said, but she didn’t convince him. He could see that she wasn’t even trying to.
Duncan’s hand paused briefly against her back before resuming its slow, steady motion.
“Aye,” he murmured, not challenging her outright. “It never is.”
The quiet stretched again. He did not press. He did not demand. He simply waited. And after a moment, he heard her inhale.
“I’ve had them before,” she said quietly.
Duncan’s gaze lowered slightly, his attention sharpening though his hold remained gentle.
“For how long?” he asked.
A small pause. “Since me mother died.”
The words came softer than anything she had said before. He did not speak immediately. Neither did he offer empty comfort. He only drew her a fraction closer, his hand moving up to rest more securely against her shoulder, anchoring her there.
“What kind of dreams?” he asked after a moment.
Elaina didn’t answer right away. She gazed into the distance, past him, looking at something only she could see.
“Always the same,” she said finally.
Duncan did not interrupt.
“I’m in her chamber, and the air smells spoiled and sharp, naething like herbs, naething like her at all, and I ken what it means before I even look at her, but I dae anyway. I keep telling meself I can fix it, because she taught me how and because Ishouldbe able tae save her.”
Her fingers twisted tighter in the blanket as she spoke.
“But me hands just willnae dae what I tell them tae. Ingredients keep spilling, disappearing or they’re just plain old wrong, and she just looks at me like that, gently, with those forgiving eyes of hers, telling me how proud she is of me, and I hate that part the most, because she says it like she is saying goodbye. I ken what comes next, and I still cannae stop it. I hold her hand, I try tae keep her with me, but her hand goes cold in mine and she slips away, every time…”
She inhaled deeply, and that sigh was interrupted by several sobs.
“That is when the voice appears.”
“The voice?” he echoed.
She nodded. “This monstrous voice, telling me it is all me fault, that I didn’t help the one person who would have done anything tae save me if the situation had been the other way around, and I realize that the voice is me faither’s, which transforms intae hands that pull me intae the darkness, screaming me name, that I have naewhere left tae run and hide, and this is where I always wake up.”
Duncan knew that feeling well.
Loss. Terror.
“She’s gone,” Elaina said defeatedly. “And I cannae change that.”
The finality in her voice struck deep.
“Nay,” he agreed with her. “Ye cannae.” He paused for a moment, then he continued. “But ye’re nae alone any longer either.”
Elaina stilled. He felt it.
“Ye’re here,” he promised her. “With me, in this room. Ye are safe.”
