Colban says goodbye
Dunfermline, Scotland
The sun had risen on Colban’s last morning in Dunfermline. Colban had seen it come up. He had hardly slept in days.
He woke at the slightest sound: at the barest rustle of blankets over his father’s body in the bed beside him, at the merest creak that might have meant a sneaking foot on a floorboard. From the moment he had stepped into the old cottage he had known no peace; not from the moment the elderly housekeeper had tousled his hair and crooned her quavering endearments over the both of them.
Colban had never feared that his father would abandon him at any of the camps or inns they had slept at on the way, but this snug cottage and this old grandmother seemed almost an invitation to leave a lad behind.
“He’ll be safer here than with me,” his father would say to the woman, who would grin and nod as she did at anything, for the old hen was stone-deaf. Perhaps his father would leave a note praying King Malcolm to kindly look after his boy. Or perhaps he would simply sneak off and trust that Colban would be cared for, or that he was old enough to take care of himself.
But the sun was up on their last day in Dunfermline, and Colban had won.
Now, guarding the door to the end, he leaned his head against the plaster and kicked his foot in time to his father’s whistling in the house. The tune faltered and faded by moments as his father jerked on a boot or splashed water on his face, but Colban thought the whistling a good sign. His father was glad to be gone.
The sun had not yet crested the cottages across the road, but the mist was already burning off the fields behind them. The pristine, prismatic beauty of Colban’s dawn had given way to the gritty smoke of breakfast fires. His solitude was spoiled ever more often by the old woman stumping out to hang her laundry and the men of the neighboring houses leaving for the fields.
After a week of mornings, their distrustful stares had simmered into stiff nods, and already some scarcely seemed to notice him and his father at all.
But not so the girl.
Colban notched his heel against the rim of the barrel and slowly slid his shoulders up the wall, preparing to hop down and flee into the house if she came too close.
Every day, after the girl had taken her family’s stew pot to the baker’s to roast until noon, she would dawdle her way back up the road, apparently lost in contemplation of every stone, rut, and weed, but she flashed frequent glances at the cottage.
It was Colban’s father’s house, and had been for years, but not even his godfather knew it existed. His father had not mentioned it to Colban until they were walking up its very path – and then he had sworn Colban to secrecy.
At last Colban truly understood what before he had simply known: his father had two lives, and until this past week Colban had only belonged to one of them. He loathed the house, the yard, the old woman, and everything that belonged to the other. And he was beginning to feel a real hatred for that girl.
She was dark-haired, about his own age, and seemed tall. She walked with a familiar feline slink. And she had an absurd interest in his father’s cottage, and looked almost longingly at the door – as if she hoped someone would step outside and recognize her.
On this morning, she went so far as to stop and shout over the wall.
“Looks like it’s going to be a fair day! Good day for laundry!” She laughed.
Colban sat up. She was almost near enough for him to see the size and shape of her nose, but her face was disfigured by the dawn’s hard light.
“You sure do wake up early!” she called. “I see you out here every morning!”
Colban croaked out, “Aye.”
She stepped up onto the bank and laid a hand atop the wall. “My name’s Ablach!”
Ablach was not a common name in Colban’s family. Of course, men did not always have a say in the naming of their bastard children. But she did have a paler skin than most girls of his clan…
“What’s yours?” she asked.
“Uh… Colban.”
“What’s that?”
“Colban!”
“Oh!” She broke into a grin. “So, Colban, do you ever get down off that barrel, or do you just sit there all morning?”
“Uh…”
Struck by a strange idea, Colban looked over his shoulder at the door. He was sitting almost in front of it, at least from the angle of someone coming up the road.
Could it be? Was it him the girl was so absurdly interested in? Was he being flirted with?
And what was he supposed to do now?
The girl broke her blinky-eyed stare long enough to look worriedly back the way she had come. Colban too heard a rumbling of hoofbeats. His father’s house was on a quiet road at some hike from High Street, but the royal town of Dunfermline was busy enough that a distant sound of hurrying horses was common. Still, these seemed to be cantering closer.
The girl sidled towards the gate. “What barrel do you sit on in the evenings?” she called. “I never see you here!”
“Uh…” Then Colban had a brilliant thought. “I’m not going to be here tonight anyway!”
The girl trotted a few steps and passed the gate. The horses were definitely coming nearer, cantering down this very road.
“What about tomorrow morning?” she asked.
“Nor tomorrow either!”
She flapped her skirts and glanced up the road. “Oh, bother! Don’t tell me you’re leaving!”
Colban sat forward and tried to peer past the neighboring house, more interested in the horses than the girl.
“I better go!” the girl cried. “Bye, Colban! See you sometime!”
Colban glanced at her as she ran up the road, jerking her arms and legs like a girl. Out of politeness he called, “Goodbye!”
He hopped off the barrel just in time to see the lead horse round the corner of the neighbor’s wall. The animal’s body curved beautifully into the tight turn for the last few beats of his canter, and then he dropped into a bouncy trot as the other two jogged up behind him.
A chestnut, a bay, and a gray, all tall and sleek and confident – Colban knew them at sight.
“Hallo!” He waved with both arms and ran down the path. “Hallo!”
“Good morning, Colban!” Etgair said as he passed the gate. He slowed his horse to a walk, but he went on.
Etmond trotted past Ethelred’s horse with a gruff greeting for Colban and drew even with Etgair on his chestnut.
Colban realized then that the princes were only passing by. He felt stupid for running out to meet them. He felt stupid for being glad. Last night he had folded, tied, and packed away his little bundle of regret over leaving Dunfermline, and now it had all burst open and tumbled out in tangles around him – all for nothing.
He did not even want to look up into Ethelred’s face, if it was for no more than a glimpse as he trotted by. Last night Ethelred had looked at least somewhat regretful himself.
But Ethelred shouted such a jovial, “Hallo, Cub!” that he could not help but look. His friend’s warm smile looked more like a welcome than a goodbye.
Ethelred was even then settling his reins over the pommel and preparing to dismount. Colban opened the gate just wide enough to slip through and hurried out into the road.
“Morning, Red! You lads are out early today!”
Ethelred thumped onto the road beside him. “We went out straightaway after prayers. We didn’t want to miss you!”
Colban grinned. They had ridden this way to see him after all!
But Etmond pulled up his his horse and groaned, “Come on! We’re not stopping!”
Colban felt stupid again.
“Only a moment!” Ethelred shouted. “I shall catch up with you!”
“Come on! I don’t want to wait!” Etmond’s gray lashed his tail in displeasure at his rider’s impatient jerking on the reins.
Ethelred said, “I shall be right there!”
Etgair finally decided the matter by trotting off without a word or a backwards glance. Etmond groaned and followed him.
Ethelred shrugged and peeked at Colban through his ruffled hair. “Sorry about them.”
“It’s all right. You’re the only one I like to see, anyway.”
Ethelred’s sheepish smile spread into one of his face-splitting grins, though it did not lose quite all of its sheepishness.
Colban felt the need to temper his remark with a touch of formality, and he folded his hands into a polite ball.
“It was kind of you to come and say goodbye again.”
Ethelred lifted his head and laughed. “I’m not come to say goodbye – I’m come to call you back!”
Colban smiled in confusion. Last night he had already had some difficulty in gently refusing Ethelred’s invitation to stay behind in Dunfermline. He had reasons to want to stay and reasons to want to go, but he could not bring himself to admit any of them. He had settled on an unconvincing declaration of his longing to see France. He did not want to go over that awkward ground again.
Ethelred’s horse saved him by stretching out his neck and whinnying after his companions.
“Ach!” Colban lamented. “Why is everyone in such a devil of a hurry to be clear of me this morning!”
“I beg your pardon?” Ethelred said.
Cricket seemed to remember his manners and stepped up to Colban to bump him with his nose and whiffle into his pockets for signs of treats. Colban laughed and threw an arm over the horse’s neck while he dug into his purse for the apple or bits of carrot he always kept stashed away.
Once the horse was munching, Colban hugged his big head and launched into a murmuring monologue of fond insults and endearments. He scratched behind Cricket’s ears and stroked his whiskery muzzle, and the enamored gelding thanked him by whuffling over his face with his sweet, hay-scented breath.
For a moment Colban was at peace. Cricket was a beautiful, big bay: tall enough for the man Ethelred would grow into, tall enough that he and his master need never part. He and Caspar would have made such a handsome pair.
Ethelred stepped nearer to stroke his horse’s neck. “Lumpy old traitor!” he scolded. “You already love Colban more than you ever loved me!”
Cricket snorted in apparent agreement.
Ethelred laughed. “No, sir, you cannot keep him! Not even if he follows us home! Which, I believe, he is about to do.”
Ach, aye! Colban had almost forgotten that.
“I cannot go home with you, Red. We’re about to go. My father was just shaving.”
“You must come back to the castle for at least an hour!” Ethelred said triumphantly. “There’s a letter for your father there, from his brother. It arrived late last night. I don’t know what it says, but I’m supposed to tell him, ‘She’s alive!’”
Lasrua was alive. It had to be she – Maire was stone-cold dead. Sigefrith must have written all the way to Scotland, and Lord Colban had sent to Dunfermline. Perhaps Lord Colban knew more about his father’s second life than his father had realized. But why write?
Ethelred laughed after Colban failed to react. “Who is ‘she?’ May I ask? It must be dreadfully important – his brother has only written him here twice before, and both times because he feared he was dead.”
Colban absently patted Cricket’s neck, but the silky black mane beneath his palm gave him an idea.
“Uh… it’s only a mare he was worried about.” Colban’s cheeks throbbed with warmth. He was lying to his friend. He did not even know why.
“Must be quite a valuable mare!”
“She is… to the man she belongs to, that is.”
Who would that be? Osh? It was not quite a lie, so long as one substituted “Lasrua” for “mare.”
“She’s not my father’s,” Colban added. “It wasn’t even his fault she was injured – it was an accident.”
His father had explained it all to him the night they had spent in Leol. He had only wanted to ask her how her necklace had followed him to Brittany – he had even showed it to Colban, for proof – and Paul had misunderstood his intentions and tried to kill him. Lasrua had stepped between them. It had been a horrible accident. That was all.
For her family’s sake Colban was glad Lasrua had survived. But to his own family her fate could be of little importance. His godfather must simply have meant to ease his father’s guilt over the affair. Colban did not believe his father ought to have felt any in the first place.
Ethelred asked hopefully, “I don’t suppose he only wanted to go to France because he was so grieved over that mare?”
Colban forced out a laugh. “Even my father doesn’t love horses that much.”
He certainly did not love Lasrua that much. He had not mentioned her again. If his father had seemed distracted at times on their journey, it was surely due to his shock over Maire’s death. He had already seemed greatly upset when he had come out of the chapel, and at that moment he had not even seen Lasrua yet, much less feared for her life.
Cricket jerked his head out from under Colban’s hand and whinnied up the road. From a few houses down came an answering whicker.
Ethelred sighed. “Ach! My brothers!”
Colban risked a glance up at the cottage while Ethelred stared. His father had kept his face clean-shaven these last days, and he was not likely to be long shaving it now. Colban could not risk him hearing the message from Ethelred – even if it could not possibly matter.
“I suppose you should go,” Colban said.
He could smile, but a brigand ache tightened around his throat, and he knew it would hold him hostage until it had been paid off with a few tears. Keeping up a lie was like keeping a pact with the Devil, and there was no sacrifice the Devil would not demand. Even an unhoped-for visit with a friend. Even a man’s promises to his son. Colban was beginning to understand some things about his father that before he had only known.
“I suppose so,” Ethelred said. “But I shall see you one more time at the castle! We’re only riding out to Eastgate and back up High Street to home. You’ll never beat us on foot.”
“Ach, you might be surprised,” Colban said. “I shall take my leave of you just in case.”
Ethelred paused with his boot in the stirrup.
“It was very kind of you to come give us the message,” Colban said. “I hope to see you again soon. I imagine we shall come back to Dunfermline on our way home from France in a few months.”
Surely by that time the lie would have expired.
Ethelred pulled himself up into the saddle, and after he had settled himself and brushed his hair out of his eyes, he smiled down on Colban. “I shall see you at the castle in just a little while, in any event.”
“But we should still say goodbye. One never knows.”
Ethelred laughed. “I’m not saying goodbye now! I shall see you again in an hour, perhaps less!”
One of his brothers shouted, “Come on!” His distant voice was scarcely louder than its own echoes, but Cricket took a mincing step towards it. Ethelred was on his way.
“Please,” Colban said. “It doesn’t hurt to say it more often than necessary – ”
“Certainly it hurts!”
Colban stopped, startled and confused. Ethelred’s voice was sharp, but his smile was as broad as ever. One of the two was not right.
Cricket pranced sideways with his back feet and swung his hindquarters around until Colban had to step out of the way. Ethelred clucked and dug in his heel, and Cricket slashed at him with his tail. The horse knew what was not right. Colban stroked his neck to calm him.
“Easy, old goat!” he scolded. He kept his eyes on the horse, but went on talking to Ethelred. “You know what I mean. One should always say goodbye. One should always say goodbye as if it were the last time, for one day it will be.”
When Colban looked up again he saw that he had at last broken through the broad smile. He had erased his friend’s expression entirely.
The wind lifted Ethelred’s collar and ruffled his hair, but his face was stone-still. The dawn’s hard shadows revealed angles that in gentler light were still cloaked in softness. For a moment the veil of childhood was lifted, and Colban was permitted to see his friend as a man. Ethelred of Scotland was destined to be tall, and the Lord in His wisdom had fashioned him a face best seen from below. He would have to grow into his beauty, as he would his feet and hands.
“Sometimes,” he said, “you do say the most sorrowful things.”
Colban gasped in outrage. “I do not! What did I ever say?”
Panicked, he tried to recall all their conversations of the last four days. He, sorrowful? He had certainly never indulged in Gwynn-like fits of pathos. He did not think he had even once laid his chin upon his hand and sighed. In fact, the two of them had spent most of their time together in stitches.
Ethelred grinned as if he had made up his mind to grin. Cricket danced beneath him. “What about ‘Goodbye’ all the time?”
“Well, and?” Colban demanded, still cross. “I’m leaving, you know!”
“Not before I’ve seen you at the castle.”
Colban flapped his arms against his sides. “The Devil take you! I’m saying goodbye to you now, and you cannot stop me!”
“And I am not saying goodbye, and you cannot make me!”
“Red! Say it!”
Cricket pranced so far ahead that Ethelred had to swing him around to keep grinning at Colban. “See you in an hour!”
“Say it!”
Ethelred turned Cricket’s head back up the road, and he clucked and leaned over the horse’s neck. Cricket stomped and reared slightly, and then he bolted.
Colban did not like to see good horses urged into such bad habits. He was angry enough to kick a clod of dirt. He was angry enough to yank the gate open and slam it shut with a steely clang.
He had not even made it back to his barrel when the door swung open and let a shaft of the dawn’s hard light into the cottage to illuminate the half-dressed body of his father. His father was whistling as if nothing were the matter. His father was glad to be gone.
He gave his cheek a last swipe and tossed his towel back into the house as he stepped outside. “Did I hear horses?”
Colban thought that even the deaf old housekeeper could have heard horses at that moment. All three of them were just then galloping around the far bend.
His father stepped into the yard and looked up the road after them. His face and shoulders were still wet, and the hot water steamed in the cold air like the drying fields. A fat droplet rolled down his cheek, glowing with refracted light. Colban watched it until it fell and shattered against his father’s collarbone.
“It was only the princes,” he said. “Etmond and Etgair and Red. They only wanted to say goodbye.”
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Okay, Cubby and Ethelred are adorable together, just like before, but unfortunately, I'm now mad at Cubby. Why the hell didn't he give his dad the message? I mean, I can understand how he might think he didn't really love her, but if he thinks his surrogate father wrote the message, and if he knows that the message was intended for his father, then what reason does he have to not tell Magog? It seems to me that he just wants his father to himself and he sees Lasrua as a threat to that--understandable, but definitely selfish.
Besides, passing the message would have given him an excuse to see Red again in an hour
In other news... Leof!
And who is that with him? Brinstan's brother?
They are too sweet together!
But goddammit Cubby, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL MALCOLM. RAGE. RAGE.
(Actually, more frustration than rage, but so it goes...)
ETA: OK, so can I just say how awesome and exciting this relatively quick speed with which we're moving through January is?
Very well written as usual. I love how Cubby seems to relate everything with horses. (even when he's lying)
I realize why Cubby didn't want to give Magog the message, in his selfish adolescent boy way, but I still am a little upset with him. BAD MOVE, CUBBY!
It's hard not to foresee tragedy in the Magog/Rua love story now. Even if Magog does eventually find out she lives and goes back to her, he's starting to look a little old.
On another note, TEAM CUBBY/ETHELRED!!
NO! Cubby, why? I never thought he would do something like this! Why didn't he tell Malcolm that Rua was alive?? I would think he would want to go back to Lothere...
So it appears that he has been unaware that his father's grief was over Rua. Now, not delivering the message that could allow his father to settle into the "normal" life (.... if you can say that being married to an elf ....) of a loving husband/father in a household in the valley, I can foresee a furious father and a good whuppin'. This does have the potential to destroy the father/son relationship he desperately craves!
? If he did return to Lothere, would Sigefrith give him lands and a title/commission within the kingdom? After everything with Maud, Cubby etc?
Oh Cubby
I guess poor Rua's going to have to wait a bit longer for Malcolm to come back to Lothere. He IS going to be able to go back. Right? Right? I sure hope so.
Cubby's surprise that a girl might actually like him was ADORABLE. Even if I am a little mad @ him right now.
Chapter was nice(glances of Magog without shirt etc), but the banner really disturbed my reading.
...You aren't really going to kill Theobald, are you? .____.
Oh Malcolm! This is so wrong. Why didn't you ever TALK about this to your son?? This could have been avoided.
And oh Cubby! That was such a bad move. To think he could have been on his way home to Ceddy within the day...
Also, it would be so creepy if that girl really was related to Cubby...
Love Red! Please don't let him vanish again.
Hehe. Malcolm is hot.
That is all.
Except, WHAT THE DUCK CUBBY.
Grr.
So, Cubby is lying to his dad - but his dad has lied to him. Cubby doesn't know he married Rua. In a way, it's Malcolm's own fault. At least someone knows, now. The truth has to come out eventually!
Hunh. What is Cubby afraid of? If he truly believed that the news of Lasrua's survival wasn't THAT important to his father, wouldn't he have said something? Colban went through the trouble of writing. Shouldn't that have merited a mention? Is the fear that Malcolm would abandon Cubby and go back to Lothere for Lasrua? Does the idea of Malcolm caring about someone outside of their family bother Cubby on some level? Would Malcolm's thing with Lasrua constitute yet another, third life that Cubby is not apart of and so he rejected the possibility?
I really like Red. He's an awkward mess but clearly good at heart. I haven't been following the comments (*hides face in shame*) but what is Red's position within the family structure? Did his father pick him to be company for Cubby because he favors him? But with a man like King Malcolm who is so terrifying and larger-than-life, is Red seen as being kind of the weak one in the bunch? Does that sentence make any sense? King Malcolm is a fearsome guy. Ethelred is soft. Is Ethelred appreciated in his family for being sort of honest and non-threatening or is he seen as not being manly enough?
The images in this chapter were breath-taking by the way. *oggles*
Thanks, Lydia, that's pretty much what I was about to say! And I shall now repeat it in so many more words!
From an authorial perspective, I felt like I had to do this, or something like this. If Malcolm is to be "redeemed" in the course of this storyline, he can't just stop roving one day and settle down with Rua and live happily ever after. How magical IS their love, seriously? What kind of lesson will Malcolm have learned? How satisfying would that be for us OR them, after the glow of the promised CLIFF SECKS has worn off?
No, we need us some closure -- we need some karmic comeback for all the dick things Malcolm has done to so many people. We need his own selfishness and narcissism and his tendency to flee rather than fix his mistakes to rear up and bite him in the face. AND we also his intensely guarded, tightly-closed-up heart to be something that causes him pain rather than protects him from pain, for a change. He needs to start putting other people first, and he needs to start opening himself up a bit, even if -- yes, Malcolm, I know you have tried this before and it didn't work out so well -- you can get hurt that way.
So here it is. Cubby is almost literally the embodiment of all that. He was conceived in the course of one of Malcolm's fits of selfishness and narcissism. He was raised in such a way that (like Malcolm) he is afraid to trust and love -- both because the people he trusts and loves sometimes betray him, and because he is often ripped away from the people who do love him just when he is getting comfortable. And in the years he has spent with his father, he has learned important lessons in deceit and treachery and taking care of number one.
So Malcolm's past and present behavior has come back to bite him in the face, and it comes back in the form of his 12-year-old son: a young Malcolm-in-training.
Lydia is right: the truth WILL come out eventually, and knowing Cubby and his sweet little heart as we do, the truth may very well come out of Cubby... once they're safely on their way to France with no return ticket in sight. So Malcolm will at least realize he should have at least MENTIONED to Cubby that he was married to Rua and that he is grieved over her death. Or at least SOMETHING. Oh, Malcolm, nobody is going to take away your Bad-Ass Club card because you cried a few tears in front of witnesses.
More importantly, though, I hope that rather than giving the boy a whipping, Malcolm will step back and ask himself WHY Cubby acted this way. (Or at least ask Cubby, though I doubt dear 12-year-old Cubby will be able to provide any answer better than "I dunno, Dad...")
Thus, in the way of novels, Malcolm has to grow and change before he gets his girl. Malcolm's principal antagonist is himself.
As for Cubby... those of you who wonder WHY, I think you do have some idea. Cubby himself doesn't know why, and he startles himself by what he is doing, and tries to convince himself it doesn't matter, and so forth... but since he does it, he obviously thinks that the letter and the news represent some threat to him.
If you read the first part of this chapter (which I admit is a bit of a slog... I don't like writing long internal monologues) or if you go back to "Malcolm wears the ghost of a band" or even "Colban makes a harmless-crazy friend, it's clear that ever since Malcolm "dragged his worthless ass into this valley," Colban's thoughts have been focused on a single task that takes priority over all others: hang on to his father with both hands, and never let go.
He sends Edris away with a trick and a treacle smile and plants himself in front of the chapel door, willingly shivering rather than going to get coat and gloves and risking his father slipping out just at that moment.
He keeps his bag packed at all times, even at Lothere -- even at home in Scotland -- just in case Malcolm ever shows up and wants to take him away but refuses to wait for even a minute.
He sells his beloved horse -- son of "Cy-roos" and Christmas gift from Sigefrith -- rather than risking perturbing his father in his planned flight. Likewise for letting go of the dog. Likewise for leaving behind his new friend in spite of a tempting invitation to stay.
He scarcely even sleeps, and he gets up before dawn and "guards the door," so afraid is he that his father is going to sneak out during the night and leave without him.
Cubby has been making painful sacrifices all along the way. He'll do anything, just so long as his father takes him wherever he's going -- he doesn't even care where.
I am sure Cubby would not like to share his father with anyone at this point, but aside from a slight, nagging worry perhaps, he doesn't seem to believe that his father has any desire to be with Rua. I don't think that's truly what this is about.
The simple truth is: he doesn't want anything to change his father's plans. He doesn't want to go back to Lothere, and he doesn't want to go home. After twelve years he has finally been accepted into his father's second life, and he doesn't want to return to the first right now. He wants to stay there until he is convinced that he belongs to both lives, and his father is 100% his father, and there won't be any more midnight abandonments because wherever Malcolm goes, Cubby is welcome to go. And then perhaps he can choose to stay behind on occasion, because he wants to. Then perhaps he can let his father out of his sight a little, knowing that he will not be totally out of reach.
Like I said, there is probably a wee bit more going on in his fuzzy little 12-year-old heart than that -- he is still wary of Rua and her influence, and maybe even confused regarding Red vs. Cedric, and so on. But the main thing is: he will not let anything stand in the way of this trip with his father. And I hope now you understand a little better why.
Oh, and the tactics he's using... pure Malcolm. He learned from the master.
Pen, to answer your question about Ethelred... as we have discussed elsewhere (either in comments or chat, I don't remember), the real-life Red was mysteriously passed over for kingship in later years, in favor of his younger brother. Red was an abbot. So the modern theory is that he was sickly or something. But perhaps instead -- in the words of Leof -- "there's something wrong with the boy." Maybe Ethelred is a little different from his brothers, a little less interested in whacking off people's heads and conquering countries, and more interested in... I don't know... poetry or something? Probably not fashion, since he doesn't seem interested in combing his hair.
However, given King Malcolm's behavior to him in "Harmless-crazy friend," I think he may be something of a favorite with his father. At the very least, Malcolm is fond enough of him to be a bit worried about the boy, and to be frankly pleased that he's found a friend in Cubby. Though I do think that if Malcolm expected Cubby to be a mini-Magog in terms of red-blooded, all-American, beer-swilling, skirt-chasing manhood, he may have erred to some extent.
An extent that remains to be explored in future Cubred chapters.
Wow.
I thought the little maybe-sister was interesting and unexpected, yet still expected.
And I completely understand why Cubby did what he did. Do I agree with it? Not necessarily. But this is the only way Cubby can handle this situation, in his opinion. He wants his dad. And nobody will get in his way. Not even his dad.
Heheh! Well said, Tiffany!
*bows* Thank you!
Does I gets karmas??
Dear God, Cubby, you're giving Vash a run for his money in the emo department! D:
Anyway, I think he actually realizes that his father is grieving Rua, but I'd have to go back and read a few chapters again just to be certain. In any case, it's like Pen said -- if he doesn't think knowing she's alive will make a difference, then why keep it to himself? Unless he also wants to "punish" Malcolm for being absent all these years? Argh. Those poor, sexy Scottsmen.
And Rua's caught in the middle of it all, suffering for her husband's bad karma. That CLIFF SECKS has better be worth it.
I do think Cubby is overstating the evidence that his father isn't grieving Rua. Deliberately, although unintentionally, if you see what I mean. He just finds it much more comfortable to believe that his father doesn't care about Rua, and it was all just a tragic accident, and it's great that she survived but it's time to move on.
Cubby witnessed that first kiss, and he was there when his dad invited Rua back home with him, which is not the sort of thing Malcolm has ever done before. And then his dad mysteriously vanished during their trip back to Lothere right after that kiss, so he might have feared it had something to do with not wanting to face Rua.
After that, he had to put up with Rua's poorly-hidden longing, and Cat's loudmouthed and Brit's subtle encouragement of the affair.
However, from the moment his dad disappeared (October) until he came back on the 1st of January, he has had no evidence that his dad has any feelings for Rua. And the explanation about "I just wanted to ask about the necklace" was EXACTLY the sort of thing Cubby wanted to hear, so he's certainly not going to second-guess it.
I see what you mean... if he was TOTALLY sure his dad didn't care either way what happened to Rua, why not give him the message? But then again, why risk it? He doesn't know what the letter says -- maybe it contains other news that would incite Malcolm to go home (or back to Lothere).
In fact, if he were TOTALLY sure that his dad didn't care about Rua, then his dad wouldn't care about getting the message either. So it was perfectly OK not to tell him. And indeed, I imagine that is exactly what Cubby is telling himself right now.
However in truth I believe he is not TOTALLY sure. We're getting Cubby's thoughts here, and he is somewhat confused about his own motives, and you can see him rationalizing his behavior during the course of this chapter. I think he does have a deeply buried suspicion. He just doesn't want to think about that. All that matters is that the trip to France goes off as planned.
Edit: I don't think Cubby is "punishing" Malcolm in any way by doing this. That's not in Cubby's nature. Cubby just wants him all to himself so he can love him with all his heart.
No. No. No, this did not just happen. It just did not happen.
No, of course, I don't think he's punishing Malcolm deliberately. He's like a child who's been denied something and, to handle the frustration, doesn't speak to the parent as a "punishment", you know? That sort of unintentionally childish, deeply-rooted psychological coping behaviour is what I see in Cubby right now.
Sofie, you come along and make all my essay-length comments look very superfluous!
I see what you mean, maruutsu... but I still don't think it's that. Not even subconsciously. Cubby does have a whole "second life" as regards his father... I mean, he doesn't believe his father is perfect. On the contrary, he seems very aware of his father's faults, and a couple times we have even seen him ruminating on them in his internal monologues. It's like "Go ahead, Dad, be a dick. I know you're going to."
HOWEVER Cubby's heart is fundamentally good and sweet, much to his dad's surprise. (The quote at the bottom of my screen right now is actually the "It was not how Malcolm loved, and it was not how Maud had loved" quote... talk about topical.)
Cubby is not the punishing type, not even in a sulky, childish way. He made a sort of attempt at that when he was waiting for his father outside the chapel -- he pretended not to see him, to determine whether his father would even notice he was there. (Sort of a trap or a test, more than a punishment.) But as soon as his dad said "Colban?" sounding all scared, Cubby launched himself at him and pretended he hadn't seen him, because he couldn't bear to hurt his father.
If Malcolm had admitted he was grieving Rua -- even if he didn't say they were married -- Cubby would have told his father the truth. I'm almost certain of it. But it's so easy to explain his father's every silence and every sigh as being due to Maire's death. And really, we're all MALRUA MALRUA MALRUA over here, but Maire has always been a MUCH bigger figure in Cubby's life, and he blames her for a lot of what is wrong with his dad, so it's normal that Maire is his first thought.
I guess the test will come on the day that Malcolm DOES admit to Cubby that he had feelings for Rua. Will Cubby say, "Well, Dad, in that case I have some good news for you"? Or will he sink that much deeper in his lie, sacrificing even his father's happiness to protect their relationship?
Or will Cubby be the first to broach the subject, out of guilt?
Or will Cubby be too afraid to tell Malcolm the truth at that point? Afraid that in anger, his father will leave him behind in order to rush home to HER all the faster? Or, even worse, that his father will be so angry that he'll shut him out of his life forever?
Sad thing is, I think Malcolm might do it, too. Just leave his son behind in order to pursue his own happiness all the faster. Oh, Malcolm. And with a new wife you'll have new children to whom you can be one step shy of a dead beat dad for too. Nice.
I don't think Malcolm would leave Cubby behind in the middle of nowhere or totally shut him out of his life, but that does seem like the kind of fear a 12-year-old kid would have. Especially one whose dad has come fairly close to doing those things in the past. The best we can say of Malcolm is that he always abandoned Cubby with other family members who would take care of him.
Your comment raises an interesting question though. Why DID Malcolm take Cubby with him this time? It would have been the easiest thing in the world to leave him behind. It was exactly what Cubby expected him to do. I imagine when he woke Cubby up, Cubby was all "OMG you actually came!"
And it appears he did not even attempt to sneak out on Cubby while they were in Dunfermline, even though Cubby was invited to stay at the castle, and boy wouldn't that have been convenient?
I must assume Malcolm wants Cubby with him right now. I just have to figure out why. Malcolm never takes anyone with him when he runs off like this. When they were at the docks at Tynemouth he did have that 30-second thought that it would be swell to have a house and a kid and a dog, but this is more like... I don't know what it's like. Is this supposed to be some kind of father-son, finally-getting-to-know-you road trip? Or is Malcolm just so self-absorbed that he is carrying Cubby along like a burr in his coat, since Cubby is clinging so hard?
I must say, it's tough figuring out what it would take for a guy like Magog to turn into the sort of decent husband that Malrua fans are rooting for, without making it look like the magical personality-transforming powers of elf cooties.
I assumed he was taking Cubby because he does want his son in his life, or at least accessible... but he's not planning on ever coming back. What for? To face the king and friend he cuckolded? To face Angus? To be attacked, again, by Paul? No. There's nothing for him there but heartache, hatred, and pain.
And home? To run slinking to his brother? He's too proud. And I think he's too self absorbed to get caught up in any of the political turmoil going on between Scotland, Ireland, and Man. He just wants out. So, he takes Cubby.
But what if he found out Lasrua was alive? Cubby could be well cared for in Dunfermline while Malcolm rushes headlong back to kissy face all over his looove.
Ooh. I hadn't considered the possibility that Malcolm seriously doesn't intend to ever return home. That would be a good reason to take Cubby.
I guess... the only reason I hadn't thought of it is because it's not like Malcolm to run away forever. Maybe he thinks he's never coming back. But he's 40 years old, he knows himself at least well enough to know that he always goes back.
Going away with the intent to stay gone would require him to admit that THIS thing was more devastating than anything that has gone before, that THIS girl was more important to him than any girl who has gone before. It seems more Malcolm-like for him to try to convince himself that "Nyah, it wasn't a big deal. I'll get over her. Just give me a few months." I figure that's why he's going now. It always worked before, right? (Well, not really, but he keeps trying. We'll see what he breaks this time.)
However, I do think he is quite infatuated with her, and truly distressed. He may believe right now that he had found THE ONE and immediately lost her. And that has to be truly traumatic, watching a girl bleed to death in your arms, due to an accident precipitated by you, even if she's a perfect stranger. So maybe Malcolm really is at a point where he could do something as drastic as leave Britain forever.
It definitely gives me something else to think about. I know where he's going in the next week or two, but as usual I have no idea what I'm doing with this storyline beyond that.
It'll be interesting to see how things play out. Reading back over my comments it probably sounds like I despise Malcolm, but I don't really. I just have this image of him as a whiny little kid that never really grew up. He does mean well. He loves Cubby, though I don't think he generally thinks very much about what's best for his son. Its not that he doesn't care.... just that its not something that comes to him naturally. When it does, as it did when he was thinking of letting Cubby keep that dog, he squashed it. Is it because he thinks its too late to treat Cubby like a little boy? That he's too old to be coddled like that? Or is it that by finally doing right by him, Malcolm would have to admit to his son, the world, and himself that up until now he has not?
Have we ever seen Malcolm really even thinking about Cubby unless he's underfoot?
I did get the impression that you were not on the Malrua bandwagon. Or at least, there was a certain amount of eye-rolling involved.
We really haven't seen a whole lot of Malcolm's POV over the years, until this recent spate of Malrua chapters. When Cubby was a baby Malcolm found himself more attracted to his son than he expected, and more than he was comfortable with it seemed. After that we didn't see much of him at all.
There are three moments that stand out for me, in terms of Malcolm thinking about Colban. There is that quoteworthy moment in "Malcolm is outnumbered":
He is aware of Cubby's worth and generosity of spirit, which means he's not utterly self-absorbed. I'm sure there's a certain amount of self-indulgent self-loathing in there, in comparing himself to Cubby, but still.
The second is this thought from "Malcolm goes out into the rain":
He was thinking about Egelric and Finn there, but he's making reference to some sort of journey he must have taken with Cubby in the past, when they were still strangers to each other. It's something that meant a lot to Malcolm, apparently.
Of course, in both of those chapters, Cubby was underfoot.
In the third one, Cubby wasn't there, though. It was in "Drileu plays her little part":
Yes, it's more of Malcolm feeling sorry for himself. But I do think the tenor of his self-pity has changed in the last few months. It's less "Why doesn't the world arrange itself precisely to please me?" and more "Why am I such a miserable excuse for a man?" It's a start!
Anyway, he does love Cubby, I'm sure of that. But as you said, he's not used to taking care of anyone else or putting anyone else's needs or feelings above his own. He has broken Gog's heart on a regular basis for the last forty years, and Cubby's for the last several, and somehow that has never seemed to bother him much until now.
I think he's in a state of mind that could allow change and self-improvement, but he still has a bit of soul-searching to do, and I think he will still need to be shaken up by outside forces a bit more. If he just runs away to France and goes back to his usual activities in his "second life" he may just harden himself up again and we'll be no better off than before. Hopefully the presence of Cubby will prevent that.
What stopped him from going back home with Cubby and the dog? I think the answer is in the chapter itself, and the title too. From "Malcolm keeps to himself", here:
and here:
It doesn't really have anything to do with Cubby or Cubby's age. Malcolm is afraid. He can love his son on the sly, but establishing himself as an ordinary dad (or husband) in the eyes of the world seems beyond him. Partly because he's afraid to love and trust, just as Colban is. (I am not sure why! I will have to think about his own childhood a bit more.) And partly because he's afraid to settle down and grow up -- afraid he won't like it, and afraid he will suck at it. He never knew his father and seems to have idealized him quite a lot, so it's too much to live up to.
But he does seem to be longing for a home more and more though. The death of Maire has broken the spell that kept him out of his father's house. Maybe it's just a matter of time now.
I'm really enjoying these little expositions and commentaries. Keep em coming!
They are going to FRANCE !!! Yeah ! And Cubred is my favourite couple so far ! It's the most romantic one since it's the most impossible one !
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