Malcolm is not only dreaming

May 25, 1081

'Baby!'

“Baby!” Malcolm gasped as he awoke. He had not been dreaming of her after all. Not only.

“Oh! Malcolm!” she whispered.

“What do you want?”

“It’s her father she’s wanting,” Murchad muttered in Gaelic and rolled over onto his back.

“Your father’s over there,” Malcolm grumbled and waved his hand vaguely. “Somewhere.”

She said nothing, but only leaned over him expectantly. Her hair hung down over her face and his like a tent.

He was yet half-​​asleep, but at the sight of her he began to wake fully. Though it was dark outside and dark beneath her hair, and though he was disoriented by seeing her face upside-​​down, he thought she did not seem well.

He was disoriented by seeing her face upside-down, but he thought she did not seem well.

“What is it, Babe?” he asked more gently. The first time he had been startled awake and could not help himself, but the second time he used his old name for her, it was deliberate. Still she did not protest. Perhaps there was something about the night, and being half-​​asleep…

After a brief hesitation she whispered, “Malcolm, I want you to take me down to the sea.”

“What?” he gasped. “It’s the middle of the night!”

“It’s almost dawn!”

“Why didn’t you come with us boys when we went down last night?”

“Because I didn’t want to then. But now I want to go. With you.”

“Oh, Baby!” he sighed. Murchad laughed softly to himself.

“Please, Malcolm? I’m so hot.”

'Please, Malcolm?  I'm so hot.'

“You’re hot?” he asked. “But the night is so cool!”

He reached up into the dark beneath her hair. His fingers found her chin, and he slid them up onto her cheek. She was not hot. But she was very soft. She sat still and allowed him to touch her face.

“You’re not sick, are you, Babe?” he whispered.

“I’m only hot, and I want you to take me down.”

“It’s thrice forever you’ll regret it if you don’t go with her,” Murchad murmured in Gaelic.

'It's thrice forever you'll regret it if you don't go with her.'

“What did you say?” she asked him.

“He said he wants us to shut up and let him sleep,” Malcolm whispered, and he sat up. “Let me get dressed.”

'Let me get dressed.'