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Brynjolf was awoken by her scream. His body registered the shifting on her side of the bed and his eyes shot open. He watched with halted breath as Lirrah quickly sat up, clutching her chest. He copied her movement, eyeing her with concern as his hand gently rested on her shoulder.
She was panting and her skin was cold to the touch. It was another nightmare. Another memory. This did not surprise him. It's coming up on a year since Mercer's betrayal and he knew that that is what's been consuming her thoughts. These nightmares, thought to be gone months ago, have been their nightly routine for the last week, and Brynjolf almost wished he could rid her mind of the memory altogether. Her shoulders trembled under his resting hand and even though no words have been spoken yet, a sob escaped from her throat. Just as her hands went to cover her face, Brynjolf enveloped her small frame in his arms. He held Lirrah tightly as if she would break if he let go of her. So they sat, Lirrah pulled to his chest, and Brynjolf listened to her heartbreaking cries mixed with the sound of the midnight rainstorm against the window.
Eventually, her tears dried and the sobs turned to quiet sniffles, and Brynjolf loosened his embrace on her as she shifted away from him. “Lass…” He began as he felt her move from his arms.
“Please drop it, Bryn.” Lirrahs tone was harsh with her reply.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean-” Lirrah pauses, taking a deep breath and turning to face him. Even in the dim light, he could see her tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes. “I don't want to talk about it. I’m fine, really. I’m sorry I woke you up…again.” Lirrah softened her voice and her head dropped slightly.
Brynjolf’s chest burned with sorrow and anger at the same time. She was not fine . This past week has not been fine . What Mercer did to her, to the Guild was not fine. Brynjolf hated watching the woman he loved be torn apart by this, but he almost hated that she thought herself a burden on him even more.
His hand went to her chin and lifted her face, while he reached his fingers to her face and gently wiped the tears away. Her eyes met his and Brynjolf couldn’t seem to breathe for a moment. “Don’t lie to me.” He tells her. “You need to talk about it, Lirrah.” Her name trailed off his tongue as sweet as honey, but his message to her couldn’t be more serious.
“I know,” Lirrah says to his surprise. “I just thought you were sick of losing sleep over this. I know I am.” She sighs, taking his hand in hers.
Brynjolf guided them both back down into their bed. Lirrahs head settled onto his shoulder and her arm went over his chest. “Lass,” He said calmly, “you will never be a bother to me.” He smiled down at her while he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“I know that too, Bryn.” She said, and Brynjolfs face warmed. “But tonight-” She hitched a breath. “It wasn’t the same. This wasn’t the memory of what happened in Snowveil, or even when I killed him. Tonight, I dreamt that he was still alive. That you, me, Karliah, we didn’t get to him in time.”
Brynjolf felt her body tense as she began to discuss her nightmare. He held her tighter.
“I dreamt that he’d come back,” she continued, “that he tracked us down while we were on a job. Brynjolf… I watched him kill you and then he left. He left me with your wound and your blood and eventually your corpse.” Warm tears dropped from her eyes onto Brynjolfs shoulder. She spoke quickly, the words spilling from her mouth as the dream seemed to replay right before her eyes.
He could hear her breathing accelerate and her hands were shaking. “Hey, hey,” He tells her, trying to get her attention on him and out of her damaging thoughts. Panic filled her eyes as he sat them both up again and she began to hyperventilate.
“Lass, please.” Brynjolf pleaded as he tried to hold back tears of his own and he held her shaking form. He tried to steady her, as a wave of panic settled in. Brynjolf could only watch as she struggled to breathe through her sobs again.
“It was so r-real.” Lirrah cried. “I swore you w-were gone.” Brynjolf held her arms as she shuddered and cried. He lowered his head and blinked back tears before taking one of her shaking hands in his and moving it along the skin on his chest, pressing it down above his heart.
“Hey, lass look. Feel. You’re here, not in your dream.” He assured her staring into her teary eyes. “Feel-” He pressed her hand harder on his chest. “Feel that, lass. My heartbeat. You can feel it. I’m alive, Lirrah.” He noticed her breathing starting to calm. “I’m alive, and you are here with me. You’re here with me.”
Brynjolf watched the intensity on her face dissipate and his own worry dropped when she took a deep breath. She looked up at him, her mouth agape trying to find words, her eyes searching his, but all she did was reach up and wrap her arms around his neck, and pulled herself into his embrace. He held her, as he steadied his own breathing, and the pounding in his chest relaxed.
They had laid back down, Lirrah laying on top of him, ear pressed to his chest listening to his heartbeat. He ran his hand through her raven hair as she slowly drifted back to sleep.
“You won’t lose me, lass. Nothing, not even death, could keep me from you.”