A House Filled With Night

Meriel agreed to hide Torin and Runa for the night. None of their protests were enough to stop her from preparing a massive dinner for them. She was happy to do it, and as Runa and Torin began to help, they found that they were happy to be distracted. They couldn’t help but marvel at these ease with which Meriel moved through her kitchen without her sense of sight. Runa had seen enough to decide the woman was more graceful in a kitchen blind then she was with two perfectly good eyes.

“This looks amazing,” Torin said in awe as they set the food on the table. “I’ve never seen food like this before.”

“Not with Sylvain doing all the cooking,” murmured Runa.

“Thank you so much, Miss Meriel.”

“Please, Auntie is nicer,” Meriel insisted. “I don’t like to be reminded that I’m still a lonely old maid.” She smiled and motioned for them to sit. “I love eating with friends, and it’s a rare treat for me. Thank you for visiting.”

“It would be nice to come again,” Runa said. “Next time under better circumstances. I hope we haven’t put you in too much danger by coming here.”

“Stop fretting and eat! Worry will give you indigestion.”

Torin grinned. “Okay, no more worrying. I want to enjoy this.”

At first it was quiet at the table, except for the hums of delight from Torin as he dug into the food. Occasionally he would say something awed and gleeful like, “I didn’t know food could taste like this,” but then he would get right back to eating.

“How could Fiske keep you all to himself?” Meriel tutted. “I didn’t know he had such a cute brother. He should have brought you along ages ago—I would be happy to feed you both! Are you older or younger?”

“Older.”

She smiled. “You must take good care of him.”

“I try.”

“Is Fiske hiding another brother hasn’t told me about?”

“Well, yes.”

“Really?”

“There are five of us, total.”

“Five! He kept four brothers secret from me! How selfish of him not to share. Well, I’d like to meet you all. Maybe you can help settle something I’ve been wondering about. Fiske claims your family is connected to mine, but I’m not quite sure whether he’s made it up or not. He can be so fanciful. Did he tell you anything of the sort?”

Torin put his spoon down. His expression became tense. “No…I don’t think he did. What did he say?”

“That your mother a close friend of my sister, and that he was quite fond of her as a child.”

Torin looked still more bewildered.

“Can you believe it?” Meriel mused. “It’s possible. She was so popular, and I confess there was a time when we travelled in very different circles. I’m not sure I remember all of the friends she had back in those days. Oh, let’s see. What was your mother’s maiden name?”

Torin hesitated. “Eklund.”

Runa wondered whether she was hearing something real and tangible about their mother for the first time, or whether he had just made this up entirely.

“Eklund…I can’t remember the name. Well, I wasn’t sure if I would.”

“So, he said your sister was friends with our mother,” Torin pressed, leaning forward a little.

She smiled wryly. “If that rascal can be believed.”

“What was she like?”

“My sister? Well, I was just telling them about her the other day. She disappeared about twenty years ago, while she was still a young woman. All we had was each other back then. After I lost her, everything fell apart…but life seems to go on anyway. That’s just how it is.”

“Oh…I’m sorry.”

“Losing something like that just does something awful to you,” she continued, shaking her head. “You can’t imagine how much I miss her. I thought I would never learn to live again. But I have.” She smiled slightly. “And that foolish girl, she just couldn’t leave me behind without giving me one last seed of hope. Even to the end, she was thinking of others.”

“Hope?” asked Runa.

But Torin had fixated on something else in Meriel’s story. “You said…your sister disappeared,” he began, slowly.

“So I did. But it’s nothing worth hearing, my dear—a horrible story.”

Torin leaned forward still more, peering closely at her face. His tone was oddly quiet, and even. But only by a thread. “Please. Tell us.”

Meriel seemed momentarily surprised by his eagerness. Still, she sighed, closed her eyes, and let the memories flood back. “If you really want to hear that story, I’ll tell it. But you must promise to cheer me with happier things afterward.”

Runa wanted to tell Meriel she didn’t have to recall anything painful, but Torin was already earnestly agreeing to her proposition.

“She was called Adelie. She was so beautiful and bright, I always knew she might come into trouble someday. So she did—trouble in the form of a handsome man. I admit I can understand how she became so enchanted with him. He was mysterious, charismatic…and I can still remember his face so well. He had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. But for some odd reason, they always made me horribly uneasy.”

Meriel frowned. Runa could almost see the memory of his eyes flashing across her mind.

She continued. “At first, my sister agreed with my opinion that he was not a good match for her. But I think she was a little flattered by his interest. And he was positively determined to have her. I begged her not to entertain his advances. There was something so dark hidden behind those terrible eyes. I just knew something awful would come of it. And then, one day, I woke up…and she was gone.”

While Meriel choked back tears, Runa felt an uncomfortable suspicion eating at her. She was afraid to be right. One look at Torin’s expression—sorrow mixed with absolute horror—told her she wasn’t. His grip on the armrests of his seat had gone so tight that his knuckles were white. She placed a hand on his, but it wasn’t enough to make him relax.

“I can’t imagine…” Torin began, but couldn’t finish. He raked a hand through his hair.

“I couldn’t forgive myself,” Meriel whispered. “To this day, I don’t know what happened to her, or worse, why it happened. But I know it was him. I’m sure of it.”

Runa left Torin’s side to comfort Meriel. She had no words, so she just wrapped her arms the aging woman. Meriel returned the embrace without hesitation.

“But I can’t end the story just yet,” Meriel went on, swallowing her sob and pulling out a small, brave smile, “Not here. Not without sharing the hope she shared with me.”

Torin looked up.

“There is a woodcutter who would bring wood to my door in the winter. When Adelie died, I refused to leave my home for weeks. I refused to eat, I could not sleep. I became sick from disuse, and finally, lost my sight to that illness. But that woodcutter continued to bring wood to my door all winter long, calling for me each time, even when I no longer had money to pay him. I didn’t know why at the time, but I refused to answer my door. One day, when I could stand it no longer, I finally opened my door to him. He had been trying, all that time, to relay a message to me from my sister.” She shook her head, smiling. “What kindness from a stranger. He told me that while he had been at his work one day, deep in the woods, he found her, dying—my sister. It must have been painful for her, but she was determined to relay one last message to me.”

Meriel’s blind eyes sparkled a little as she wiped away the water from her cheeks.

“She told me not to be sad, even if we never saw each other again. She had experienced pain, but she was joyful because she had given birth to a son, and he was the most beautiful thing she ever knew. He was the sunlight in her darkness, and she hoped that I, too, could find sunlight in my darkness. I wonder if she knew then…that she had been my sunlight. She always will be, even if she is no longer with me.” She breathed deeply, nodding resolutely. “I don’t know where that child is, but one day, I will find him. I know her sunlight is in him. And when I do, I am going to love him with all that I have.”

But Torin could say nothing, because covering his face, desperately trying to hide his tears.

—

In the darkness, Runa lied on Meriel’s old couch, a few feet away from Torin, who was resting on the ground. She had spent the last thirty minutes listening to him toss and turn, sighing, never settling, never quietening. He couldn’t sleep. Neither could she.

“Torin…” she began quietly.

There was a long hesitation before the reply: “What is it, Runa?”

“Meriel…was she…are—are you…are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“She’s…she’s not your real aunt…or is she?”

He hesitated even longer. “Not exactly.”

“But that man was your father?”

Torin sighed. “Yes, I think so.”

“And Meriel’s sister?”

Silence.

“I’m sorry.”

He turned over again, and said nothing else.

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~ A/N ~

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