The cave lay in darkness, save for the pale thread of moonlight that slipped through the jagged mouth. Outside, the wind prowled over the moors, dragging with it the cries of night-birds and the distant groan of ice. Within, all was still save for the faint sound of breathing—the beloved's steady, protective, and the girl's quicker, shivering breaths pressed against his chest.
Neither had spoken since the footsteps faded. Fear hung about them like frost, settling in silence too heavy to break.
At last, the beloved stirred, his hand brushing against her cheek. "You tremble still," he murmured, his voice a low comfort in the dark.
"How can I not?" she whispered. "Each sound carries the weight of discovery. Each gust of wind could be the herald of our ruin."
He pressed a kiss to her brow. "Then let me bear your fear. Rest, and I shall keep watch."
She shook her head fiercely, her hand clutching his. "No. If we are hunted, then we endure it together. Do not send me into sleep while you face shadows alone. I will not be left, not even by silence."
---
The beloved smiled faintly, though she could not see it in the gloom. "You are braver than I ever was," he said, and there was wonder in his tone.
"I am only brave," she answered softly, "because you are beside me. Without you, I should falter. With you, even the grave feels less fearsome."
Her words struck deep into him. He held her closer, marvelling at the strength born of her frailty, the fire that hardship had kindled within her. For a moment, he allowed himself to forget the peril beyond the stone walls, to breathe only the warmth of her presence, her hair brushing against his cheek, her heartbeat quick beneath his hand.
---
Hours passed, slow and restless. From time to time, the beloved rose to the cave's mouth, listening intently to the moors. Once, he thought he glimpsed a lantern's glow wavering far in the distance, but it vanished swiftly, swallowed by snow and dark.
When he returned to her side, he found her gazing upward, her eyes following the faint shaft of moonlight that touched the cave's ceiling. Her expression was distant, as though she looked beyond stone and storm into something greater.
"What see you?" he asked gently.
"Not the stone, nor the night," she murmured. "I see a future I cannot yet touch. I imagine us free—walking in daylight without fear, building a home where love is not hidden but honoured."
He seated himself beside her, his heart aching with both hope and despair. "It feels a dream too bright for us, who are hunted and despised."
"Yet dreams," she whispered, turning to him, "are the seeds of truth. Had you not dreamed of me that first day, would you have dared to look into my eyes? Had I not dreamed of freedom, would I have found courage to flee? Dreams have led us here. And I believe they shall lead us further still."
---
Moved beyond words, he kissed her, gently at first, then with all the pent fire of his heart. In that dark cave, surrounded by storm and threat, their love burned brighter than any flame.
When they parted, breathless, he whispered, "If Heaven grant us no future, then let it grant us this—that no man nor storm shall sever us. If I perish, it shall be with your hand in mine. If I live, it shall be only to guard you."
"And I," she replied, tears shining in her eyes, "would rather share exile with you than thrones with another. Whatever comes, let it find us as one."
---
The hours crept on, and exhaustion pressed heavily upon them. They lay side by side upon the cold stone, cloaks wrapped close. Her head rested upon his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck. The beloved, though weary, forced his eyes to remain open, every nerve alert. Yet as the storm's howl softened to a mournful sigh, his vigilance eased, and for the first time in days, he allowed himself a sliver of rest.
But even in slumber, he dreamt not of safety but of pursuit—dark figures with lanterns and dogs, voices crying his name with cruel intent. He awoke with a start, his heart hammering, to find her still sleeping peacefully against him, unaware of the dread that haunted his dreams.
He pressed a kiss to her hair, whispering, "Sleep, my love. I shall carry the fear for us both."
---
Morning came pale and grey. A thin veil of frost edged the rocks, and the cave's mouth opened upon a world hushed and merciless. The beloved rose quietly, careful not to wake her. He stepped outside, the cold biting sharp into his skin, and scanned the moors.
There—half-buried by new snow—he saw them again. Footprints. Fresh, and nearer than before.
His blood ran cold. The hunters had returned.