Ashan 57 7
First light and the crow of a distant cockerel saw Malcolm stir, and half asleep, reach for his lover beneath the wolfskin blankets. His hand found her side, and he traced the shape of her belly to its peak before moving closer to the woman.
“Good morning,” he mumbled, his voice gruff.
A kiss to wake her up, a kiss to greet her.
Below the streets were quiet, so quiet in fact, that Malcolm could hear a set of unexpected footfalls beyond the bedroom door. He sat up on the bed and looked at the door, heat escaping from beneath the blankets as they fell about his waist. The intruder made her presence known, peeking at him through the crack in the door, wearing a cheeky little smile.
“How did you climb out of bed you little terror?”
Elsie giggle and wandered into the room to stand at the edge of the bed, holding a book by its cover in one of her hands. Malcolm leaned down and picked her up, putting her down between the pair of them. The child made herself known, placing her cold fingers to Elyna’s neck, and pressed her feet hard against Malcolm’s belly. The Mortalborn sucked in and pulled the blankets up so that Elsie was tucked in, snug as a bug.
“Shhh.” Malcolm smiled. “Let mummy sleep.”
“Dada,” Elsie replied.
“Mama,” he encouraged, but it was no use, Elsie was determined not to use the word because she knew now that avoiding it won her a lot of attention.
Elsie presented the book to Malcolm and turned under the covers to face him, it was something he had been working on in his free time, and hadn't quite finished sketching the pictures into. “Book,” Elsie demanded. She had been using the word look for some time now, so book had come naturally.
“Book,” Malcolm repeated, “Elsie’s book.” He tickled her side and she struggled, trying to push his hand away. Her giggle was infectious and made the man smile.
“Once upon a time,” he began, “there was a little prince who lived in a golden palace in the desert kingdom of Nejem.”
Elsie relaxed, put her thumb in her mouth and turned her dark hair about her finger as she looked up at the pictures in the book.
“It was lonely in the palace, so once day the prince decided to visit marketplace in the village where he had seen lots of children playing. But when he got to the marketplace, none of the children would play with him because he was different. He wore a little silk tunic, and slippers stitched with golden thread.”
“The prince saw some boys playing with a small, red ball. He wandered over them them and asked, 'can I play with you?'"
“'No,' said the children, 'we don't play with princes.'”
“The prince was sad, so he left the boys alone and sat down on a crate in the middle of the marketplace.”
“'I'll play with you,' a little girl said."
"'No,' said the prince, 'you are a girl, girls can't play ball.'"
“Look,” Elsie said, she already knew this part.
Malcolm smiled. “Who’s that?”
“Elle,” Elsie pointed, “look.”
“That's right,” Malcolm told her, “The little girl’s name was Elle, and she was very good at playing ball, in fact, she was good at a lot of things. Elle could run faster than all of the boys in her class, and she was the best at jumprope.”
“Look!” Elsie smiled. “Rara!”
“Elle had a dog called Rara,” Malcolm agreed.
“Look, look!” Elsie beamed.
“Rara.” Malcolm smiled again, it was impossible to read to Elsie.
First light and the crow of a distant cockerel saw Malcolm stir, and half asleep, reach for his lover beneath the wolfskin blankets. His hand found her side, and he traced the shape of her belly to its peak before moving closer to the woman.
“Good morning,” he mumbled, his voice gruff.
A kiss to wake her up, a kiss to greet her.
Below the streets were quiet, so quiet in fact, that Malcolm could hear a set of unexpected footfalls beyond the bedroom door. He sat up on the bed and looked at the door, heat escaping from beneath the blankets as they fell about his waist. The intruder made her presence known, peeking at him through the crack in the door, wearing a cheeky little smile.
“How did you climb out of bed you little terror?”
Elsie giggle and wandered into the room to stand at the edge of the bed, holding a book by its cover in one of her hands. Malcolm leaned down and picked her up, putting her down between the pair of them. The child made herself known, placing her cold fingers to Elyna’s neck, and pressed her feet hard against Malcolm’s belly. The Mortalborn sucked in and pulled the blankets up so that Elsie was tucked in, snug as a bug.
“Shhh.” Malcolm smiled. “Let mummy sleep.”
“Dada,” Elsie replied.
“Mama,” he encouraged, but it was no use, Elsie was determined not to use the word because she knew now that avoiding it won her a lot of attention.
Elsie presented the book to Malcolm and turned under the covers to face him, it was something he had been working on in his free time, and hadn't quite finished sketching the pictures into. “Book,” Elsie demanded. She had been using the word look for some time now, so book had come naturally.
“Book,” Malcolm repeated, “Elsie’s book.” He tickled her side and she struggled, trying to push his hand away. Her giggle was infectious and made the man smile.
“Once upon a time,” he began, “there was a little prince who lived in a golden palace in the desert kingdom of Nejem.”
Elsie relaxed, put her thumb in her mouth and turned her dark hair about her finger as she looked up at the pictures in the book.
“It was lonely in the palace, so once day the prince decided to visit marketplace in the village where he had seen lots of children playing. But when he got to the marketplace, none of the children would play with him because he was different. He wore a little silk tunic, and slippers stitched with golden thread.”
“The prince saw some boys playing with a small, red ball. He wandered over them them and asked, 'can I play with you?'"
“'No,' said the children, 'we don't play with princes.'”
“The prince was sad, so he left the boys alone and sat down on a crate in the middle of the marketplace.”
“'I'll play with you,' a little girl said."
"'No,' said the prince, 'you are a girl, girls can't play ball.'"
“Look,” Elsie said, she already knew this part.
Malcolm smiled. “Who’s that?”
“Elle,” Elsie pointed, “look.”
“That's right,” Malcolm told her, “The little girl’s name was Elle, and she was very good at playing ball, in fact, she was good at a lot of things. Elle could run faster than all of the boys in her class, and she was the best at jumprope.”
“Look!” Elsie smiled. “Rara!”
“Elle had a dog called Rara,” Malcolm agreed.
“Look, look!” Elsie beamed.
“Rara.” Malcolm smiled again, it was impossible to read to Elsie.
