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"With your knees, my dear! You must turn the beast with your knees!"

Iver stood upon the top of the hill watching his wife of just over ten years as she shouted her directives over the hillside.

There were two boys aged eight and seven years who rode upon their ponies in the bright sunshine trying desperately to follow her instruction.

It was obvious by the frustration upon their stubborn faces they would not master that skill on this day.

And by the reactions of their small beasts, it was unlikely they would do so anytime soon.

"Oh, mother! This is just not possible!

No one can learn this skill. I have watched how father trains his own soldiers in the fields and he never makes any of his clansmen either ride a dumb pony or attempt to control them with their knees!

I would rather ride like the wind and wield my sword than waste my time learning such ridiculous things! "

Iver could only shake his head as a warm smile came to his lips.

He could not help the memories of a time that sweetly rolled through his mind.

It was of a day more than a decade ago when he first fell in love with his Gwyn.

Or at least it was when he had his first real glimpse of the determined woman she would ultimately be.

So much had occurred since that day as he realized once again, how he had been blessed.

He silently thanked his uncle, the prior laird of the Chattan, for his years of strength and protection.

While he understood his final years were not necessarily stellar, he had given his heart and soul for her protection and Iver would never forget all he had sacrificed.

Next, he had to thank his father for allowing him to leave the McColl and embark upon this journey which he must have understood was his destiny.

Had he not allowed his third born son to go and make his way in this world nor provide support more than one time over these last turbulent years, he is uncertain of how he or the Chattan would have survived.

Then there was his loyal cousin, brother and friend, Donnan.

No one could have asked for anyone more true to his word than he.

The man had been his strength and had taken care of the love of his life when he could not.

And he would never forget this. As he smiled wryly, he knew that the God above had not done so either, for he and Enya had been sweetly blessed now with five children of their own.

He could hardly believe they had four very strong lads.

But it was his Gwyn who had brought such happiness and a sense of contentedness to his life.

While he always knew he was destined to become laird, never did he understand how a woman could compliment his life nor make him complete.

He had thought leading his men was all that was necessary.

However, when he looked upon the strong woman who he proudly called his wife, he understood the gift he had been given.

"You had better listen, my sons, because the words you are now so readily discounting could cost you dearly some day!"

Iver placed a hardened look upon his face as he strode across the lush green grassland to stand next to the Lady Gwyn.

"You do not see me work on this with my men because it is a skill they have long since mastered. Every trained warrior knows if you were engaged with another worthy opponent, it would not matter the skill you possessed with your blade if you could not control your beast."

The young lads could only stare at their father while still seated upon their ponies. They knew and trusted his words. This was their father and the one they revered and honored above all else. The powerful laird of their clan had just spoken and they would listen, as they knew they must.

Slowly, the boys watched as their father pulled the bits from their animal's mouths, understanding he had taken from them their line of security.

As the laird of the Chattan lightly slapped the rear flank of each of their animals, they were pushed into action as their beasts moved forward and rode off down the hillside.

"Now run to the bottom and turn them only with your knees and do not return until you have effectively done so."

Iver watched as his sons galloped away, their small retreating backs vanishing over the hillside.

"Father!"

Iver smiled widely as he heard the hoof beats of an animal quickly approaching from behind him.

It was the sweet giggling voice infused with the air that brought him most pleasure.

Slowly, he turned with a smile upon his face looking at the one who was nearly an exact replica of her mother.

Although he conceded she was sporting very long dark hair that was nearly the same color as his own, every other beautiful feature she had was extracted from her mother.

And she had the most peculiar shade of green eyes.

"My dearest, Wenna!"

Iver smiled as the steed drew near and the young lass upon the saddle suddenly launched herself into his waiting arms. The laughter of his ten-year-old daughter heavily filled the air around him as she came to rest securely against his chest.

As Iver turned with the young lass captured in his warm embrace, he grasped his wife's hand as it lay at her side. Slowly, he brought Gwyn's fingers to his lips as he said a prayer for the children he had been blessed with, a loyal clan he could call his own and a wife who made him complete.

And no more secrets. All that had occurred in the past and all the undisclosed truths that had laced their lives for many years were no longer necessary.

Iver acknowledged each and every one of them were paramount in their coming together.

He was just extremely thankful they were no longer necessary.