Work Text:
Ewen saw it all in a flash as of lightning: five meetings, the last by water, and ‘grief on the white sand’... the white, moonlit sand, which was growing every moment more darkly red.
But Keith was yet alive, warm and heavy in his arms and breathing in ragged but determined gasps; and the carefree, laughing disbelief with which Ewen had greeted Lachlan’s first news of that terrible prophecy a year ago was turned now to a desperate defiance.
‘Keith, my friend... stay with me,’ he whispered, and then, turning, ‘Angus, Duncan, come here—no, leave the boat—we shall hide ourselves, and I’m going to bring him with us.’