by Emma Hamm
“Would you fight for me?” She leaned back with a mischievous glint in her eye. “If Fionn stormed the castle and stole me away, my knight in shining armor?”
Eamonn did not want to tease. His brows furrowed, and he reached forward to stroke the high peak of her cheekbone. “If Fionn captures you, he will not keep you alive for long. You are one human, with a life that is unnecessary for his plans.”
“He will not kill me.”
“He will do much to get back at me.”
“Eamonn!” She sighed in exasperation. “When are you going to put an end to this foolish battle? You’re brothers, you should be able to work this out.”
“Faeries do not work the same way as humans.”
“No, but they should.”
He chuckled. “Ah, my fierce love. You see the world with such a light in your heart. I wish I could.”
“You can,” she vehemently declared. “You just have to try.”
“I am, mo chroí. I am.”
He drew her into his arms and tucked her head underneath her chin. Crickets chirped their midnight song, and the air was no longer cool with him touching her. Sorcha dipped her fingers into a crevice of stone, chewing her lip as thoughts danced through her mind.
“You’re thinking,” he grumbled in her ear.
“I don’t know how to help you.”
“This is not something you can heal. Worry and anxiety are not physical wounds.”
“I don’t like it that I can’t help you.”
His heart beat against her ear, steady and strong. Each thump reminded her that he was alive, but their time was limited. That of all the things they had survived together, all the things they had suffered, they might still be cut short.
His fingers stroked through her hair. Sorcha smiled at the slight tugging, for she knew he was coiling individual strands around his fingers and unraveling them again.
“Why do you do that?” she asked.
“What?”
“You wrap my hair around your fingers over and over again.”
“It helps me think.”
“Does it?” Sorcha tucked her face into the hollow of his collarbone, grinning from ear to ear.
“Why, does it make you uncomfortable?”
“Not at all.”
“Good,” he rumbled. “I don’t want to stop.”
Sorcha would never forget moments like this. She didn’t need wondrous declarations of love, romantic scenes in front of other faeries. She wanted a quiet evening hidden away from others where they could privately enjoy each other.
But there was much left unsaid.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked. “For the sword?”
“Mo chroí, there is too much going on in the world to say mad for long.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I will always be a little angry about that. But I will never let it stand between us.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “If you say so.”
“Sorcha,” he groaned while rubbing her back. “What must I do? I will not let this stand between us, not when I know what life is like without it.”
“Like a piece of you is missing?”
“I wasn’t myself without you at my side. I do not wish to ever repeat that again.”
“I wasn’t the same either,” she admitted. “I am far more giving when I know you will be there to stop me should I go too far. I didn’t know what I could or not do while I was home. Even my father commented on it. That part of me was something I left here.”
“I was cold,” he replied. “Losing pieces of myself over and over again as a kind of punishment. I forgot there were people out there who loved me, who cared whether I lived or died.”
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
“The Tuatha dé Danann believe in soulmates. Do humans?”
“My mother did,” Sorcha said with a soft smile. “She used to say I would meet someone who meant more to me than my own life.”
“A wise woman.”
“A good woman who died far too soon.”
She felt the hitch in his breath as she mentioned death. Perhaps it was too soon, he was still worried about her. She shouldn’t have said anything so dark.
His hands clenched on her shoulders. “The Tuatha dé Danann are not like humans. We do not have priests to marry us, nor chapels to ring bells.”
“You know of that?” She tilted her head on his shoulder so she could stare up at his severe profile, outlined by moonlight. “Why were you gathering information about human marriages?”
“I tried to find a priest who we could safely bring into the Otherworld, but there were none near faerie circles for the past week. They do not seem to support the old ways.”
“No, they avidly stay away from anything of the old religion. They don’t believe in it.” Sorcha wrinkled her nose. “Eamonn?”
“I want to keep you safe. If I die, you should have everything of mine without question.”
Everything clicked into place. She lunged back, slapping her hands on his shoulders. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
“In a rather awful way, I suppose I am.”
“You suppose?”
“Is this not the right way to do it?”
She groaned and tossed her head back to stare at the ceiling. “No, this is a horrible way to do it.”
“What should I do?”
“Men get on their knees! They plan accordingly to ask a woman in a romantic way! They don’t ask in the middle of the night because she happened to find him.”
“I would have asked tomorrow morning, but now seemed like an opportune time.”
“Did you even get me a ring?”
“A ring?” His brows furrowed. “Did I need one of those?”
“Generally.”
“Then I ask we postpone this until I may ask in a more appropriate way.”
Sorcha huffed out a breath, half laugh, half frustrated sigh. “Well, I already know what you’re going to do now.”
He reared back in shock. “Is this usually a surprise for women?”
“Sometimes we have an inclination that it may happen soon.”
“You do not talk about marriage beforehand?”
“Some do, but many women are surprised when the man proposes.”
“That sounds horrible,” he scoffed. “Such a decision should be a mutual agreement. If it’s a surprise, then how can the man ever be certain she didn’t make her choice under duress?”
“I don’t know.”
“I will not do that to you.” His lips set in a thin line of determination. “You know of my intentions now. I would like to marry you, and I apologize you were not aware of my thoughts. Please, take all the time you need to make your decision.”
This man would be the death of her. She shook her head. “I know how I want to answer.”
The alarm in his wide eyes nearly made her laugh in his face. “Well I’m uncertain I wish to know what such a quick response is.”
“Do you think I will say no?”
“I never have any idea what you might say.”
“Yes,” she said immediately. “A thousand times yes.”
“That I don’t know what you’ll say, or that you wish to marry me?”
“I will marry you in whatever way you wish. I do not need a priest, I am satisfied with the Fae tradition.”
“That’s much easier.”
He sank his hand in her hair and pulled her forward for a kiss that rocked her soul. She gasped as his lips smoothed over hers, teeth and crystals nipping.
“I pledge my soul to you,” he growled. “My heart, my mind, my life are now yours.”
Somehow, she knew she was supposed to say the words. “I pledge my soul to you, my heart, my mind, and my life are now yours.”
“Good,” Eamonn called out. “Again!”
The young dwarves all stood in formation, squaring their shoulders and attempting to stand like he did. It was the sincerest form of f
lattery and one that did not escape his notice. The boys were learning fast. He wouldn’t put them in a war soon, but they didn’t need to know that.
Dwarves were talented in many areas of war. Their arms were strong from manual labor and lifting stone. Their punches were enough to cause Eamonn’s teeth to crack. The right handed hook a few of them dealt made him see stars.
They were a better army than he remembered the Tuatha dé Danann being. Perhaps it was because they were so eager to learn.
Sorcha had forgiven him in the eyes of their people. She ate with him every night, scooped food from his bowl and stoked his arm when the others were looking. Although they were still learning their way around each other, the dwarves had relaxed.
When the king and queen were happy, so were their people.
“Raise arms!”
The dwarven boys and girls held their swords horizontal over their heads, freezing in place while waiting for his next order.
He held out just long enough for the weakest few to tremble. “Attack!”
He paired them off in twos and threes. Individual sparring for those who were not confident in their abilities, and larger groups for those who had fought with him longer. Their parents trained in the afternoon.
He was slowly turning this castle into an army full of legendary warriors. Untried, but capable in every way he could make them.
Ghosts of the past haunted his steps. Eamonn couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad would happen. He wanted to be present for as long as he could.
“Again!” he shouted.
They didn’t need to train even more than they already did. These men and women were no longer children. They could step onto the battlefield confidently and know they could protect themselves.
“You work them too hard,” Sorcha’s soft voice echoed through his being. A shiver trailed down his spine, and he reminded himself to pay attention to his pupils.
“They need it.”
“They need water and food.”
The amusement he heard made him glance over his shoulder.
She wore a plain linen dress that hugged her arms and waist while leaving her legs free to move. The style was far more dwarven than he liked. But on her? It was magical.
Sorcha had taken to wearing her long curls free. They waved in the breeze and stretched towards him as if begging for his touch.
He groaned. “You are distracting me.”
“That was precisely the point. Come, mo chroí. It’s far past time for us to take our lunch.”
“Our lunch?” He lifted a brow. “We do not have a lunch.”
“We do now.”
She lifted a small wicker basket. The lid was closed, revealing nothing but a small corner of red fabric.
“You brought me food?”
“I brought us a picnic. I thought we might disappear for the afternoon.”
“I need to train the adults.”
“They know how to fight, Eamonn.” She ducked underneath the training ground fence and waltzed towards him. Her hand brushed against his chest, sending shivers down his spine once more. “They can practice without you for one day. Let us go and enjoy ourselves.”
“Have we heard any response from Fionn?” The letter hung over him like a dark cloud.
“No, not yet.”
“How much longer are we waiting until you begin your training?”
“Enough talk of work! Let us go and enjoy ourselves for the afternoon. It is the last warm day of the summer before the rains catch us. And then it will be winter, and we’ll be stuck inside the castle all day!”
He felt time bearing down on his shoulders. He should be a king. His people needed him to drive them until they were better fighters than he.
But she wanted to play in the fields. The smile on her face was as tempting as a warm summer breeze.
Finally, he relented. “All right. Get out of the training yard while I finish up here.”
“Hurry, please. I have plans for us.”
“Plans?” He didn’t like the wicked glint in her eyes. “Sorcha, what plans?”
“They’re a surprise!”
“I don’t like surprises.”
He tried to catch the tail end of her dress as she whirled from him, but she was already gone. The woman was likely to be as much pixie as druid.
Eamonn growled in frustration, torn between duty and desire.
“Enough!” he shouted to his students. “We are done for the day!”
He expected complaints and worried noises. That was what he was used to from the soldiers in his previous company. The children did not make any sound he recognized.
Casting a calculating glance over them all, he saw how tired they were. Their shoulders slumped forward and they let their swords hang in the dirt if they hadn’t dropped them entirely. Their eyes were drooping, a few even listing to the side.
Not a single one had complained throughout the entire training.
His heart warmed. “You’ve all done well today! You’ve earned your supper. Enjoy your afternoon with your family and forget training for the time.”
“Are you going off with your lady friend?” One of the boys called out.
“I am.”
The boy was nearing his teenage years. He might even travel with Eamonn’s company if the war came to that. For a dwarf, he was tall and broad. His face was handsome, beard already thick and lush.
While the others left the training yard in a hurry, this handsome child stayed behind. Eamonn recognized a youngling who wished to speak. He lingered and waited for the dwarf to come to him.
Like a wild horse he wished to break, he remembered Sorcha proclaiming.
“My king?” the boy asked.
Eamonn glanced at him but did not speak.
“I have a question for you that I did not want to ask my Pa.”
This had already gotten off to a bad start. Eamonn propped himself up against the fence, crossed his arms firmly over his chest, and tried not to appear worried. “Go on with it.”
“It’s just…” The boy scuffed his feet in the dirt. “There’s a girl I like, you see. She’s one of the peat faeries that comes in here now and then. I thoughts, seeing as you and your lady aren’t the same species, that maybe you’d be able to help. I don’t even know how to talk to her.”
The tips of Eamonn’s ears heated. Was the boy asking him for relationship advice? Him?
Years ago he might have been capable of giving the dwarf good advice. Women had flocked to him just because he would be king and was as handsome as his twin. For some, the fact that they were twins had been most of the appeal.
Now? It had been centuries since he had even thought about a healthy relationship with a woman. Not until Sorcha came along.
Clearing his throat, he shifted his weight onto the opposite leg and gave the question good thought. “You like this girl already?”
“Yes?”
“Is that a question or do you know you’re interested in her?”
“I know, sir.”
“How do you know if you haven’t talked to her yet?”
“Well,” the dwarf scuffed a path of grass with his toe. “She’s awful pretty.”
Eamonn nodded wisely. “That is why most of us find ourselves enamored.”
“And she’s smart!” The boy appeared insulted to be categorized with all the other men who found themselves infatuated. “I’ve seen her figure out problems that none of the other dwarves could figure out.”
“She sounds like a good catch.”
“She is.”
“You must talk to her.”
That blew all the wind out of the dwarf’s sails. His shoulders sagged and his chin dipped towards his chest. “I don’t know how.”
“I didn’t know how with Sorcha either.”
“You didn’t?”
“Not at all. The first few times we spoke, I picked fights with her. Every time I opened my mouth, something rude would come out. I didn’t know if my tongue
was broken or if I would become a mute.”
The boy snickered. “So what did you do?”
“I forced myself to keep talking. I figured that eventually, something nice would come out.”
“Did it?”
“It did. And once that first sentence was said, I could talk to her without hesitating.”
The boy’s lips screwed to the side as he pondered the revelation. “So you’re saying I should just talk to her?”
“It’s a good place to start.”
“What if she doesn’t like me?”
“Then you keep talking. Be polite, listen to what she has to say, and she’ll come around. If she still doesn’t like you, then respect that. We can’t win them all, boy.”
Eamonn watched as the boy’s face turned bright red. He stammered something about needing to find his friends and bolted from the training yard. Small puffs of dust kicked up underneath his heels.
He felt her gaze on his back, the cause of his own trials and tribulations. Sighing, he turned. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough,” she said with a soft smile. “Just keep talking?”
“That’s how I won you over.”
“I don’t remember you talking much at all.”
She had a point. Eamonn pointed to his crystal eye with exaggerated care. “I talk with my eyes.”
“Sure you do.” Her laughter was music to his ears.
It was why he had to stay away from her so much. He would give anything to hear her laugh over and over again until the world ended.
Eamonn swung his leg over the fence and landed lightly on his feet. “So, where are we going for this surprise?”
“I can’t tell you, that would ruin it.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
Her eyes sparkled. “So you’ve said.”
She was a siren, calling him to crash upon her rocks. And he fully intended to.
Eamonn followed her as if in a dream. He was a lucky man, for all that she annoyed him or overstep her bounds. Few women would walk into the Otherworld and not grow to despise the strange creatures or their world.
Sorcha thrived here. She stood straighter than she had when she first arrived to the isle. Her eyes sparkled with life and a vivacity that he knew were from helping his people. She showed love to everyone she passed with bright smiles, blown kisses, and a gentle touch that shook the foundation of his being.