Page 24 of Highlander’s Unspoken Attraction

The sound of the wooden swords clashing echoed through the spacious courtyard, the rhythmic thud of impact filling the air as Liam circled, his eyes focused on his two opponents. His son, Ronan, was smaller—quick and nimble—his form still unpolished but full of fire. At just five years old, he lacked the strength and precision of an experienced fighter, but what he lacked in skill he made up for with enthusiasm and a determined spirit that made Liam's heart swell with pride.

Opposite Ronan, Kieran took his own stance. He looked so like his cousin though the occasional tantrum he threw always had Liam remembering Bain. He had taken Kieran in as his own after Emily gave birth and he treated the boys the same. In his eyes, Kieran was his and would be raised as such. Liam watched as the two boys worked together, circling him as they planned their next move. Even so, there was no question who was the ringleader. Ronan, with his wild energy and fierce determination, was always the first to charge forward, while Kieran stayed a few steps behind, his movements more measured but no less effective.

Liam smiled to himself as he deftly sidestepped a wild swing from Ronan, grabbing the boy by the wrist and gently twisting him into an awkward spin, sending him tumbling onto the grass. "Careful there, little warrior," Liam teased, crouching down to ruffle Ronan’s hair.

Ronan pouted, but didn’t stay down for long. He shot to his feet, gray eyes sparkling with the same defiant energy that Liam had seen in Bain countless times. It was always interesting to see how the cousins took on the opposite personalities of their fathers’.

"I’ll get you next time, pa!" Ronan declared, puffing out his chest in a way that made Liam’s heart ache with love.

"Next time, eh?" Liam raised an eyebrow before glancing at Kieran standing a few paces away. The boy watched it all with an amused expression on his face. "What do you think, Kieran? Should I give him another round?"

Kieran smirked, stepping forward and brandishing his own wooden sword. "I think you should let him win one of these days," he said, his voice full of quiet wisdom that belied his young years. Liam chuckled, raising his sword in a playful salute.

"We’ll see about that."

Before the sparring could continue, Alison’s voice broke through the playful tension.

"Alright, that’s enough of that!" Alison’s voice was firm, but with a hint of fondness, as she stepped into the courtyard, wiping her hands on her apron. “It’s time for supper.”

“But mom,” Ronan wheedled, shoulders drooping. “I was just about to beat pa.”

She crossed her arms; her expression was a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "You’ve been at it for an hour now, and dinner’s getting cold. Sae, it’s time to come inside."

Liam straightened up, lowering his sword with a reluctant sigh. He looked at the boys, both of whom were panting lightly, their faces flushed with exertion and excitement. "Looks like your ma’s got the final say," he said with a grin. If it were him telling the boys to come in, he knew there would be more of a battle on his hands. But they knew that defying Alison was the swiftest way to a night of horrors.

Ronan grinned up at Alison, wiping a few stray strands of auburn hair from his face. "Can we finish our battle after dinner? I’ll beat pa, I promise!"

Alison’s lips twitched, and she raised an eyebrow. "You’ve got a long way to go before you can beat your father," she teased, though the pride in her voice was unmistakable. "Come on, lad. ‘Tis time for all of you to wash up. You can continue your battle tomorrow."

Kieran, who had been unusually quiet, walked up to Alison with a small, polite smile. "Dinner smells good," he said, his voice soft but steady.

Liam’s heart gave a small, unexpected lurch at the sight of Kieran’s expression—so calm, so composed, and yet so entirely his own. He had raised this boy since the day Emily had placed him in Liam’s arms, and the bond between them was something that transcended anything written on paper.

Alison smiled warmly at Kieran, her eyes softening as she ruffled his dark brown hair. "I’m glad you think so. Let’s all get inside before your pa starts eating the stew with his hands again."

Liam chuckled as he followed them into the house. “I dinnae know what you're talking about.”

Kieran tilted his head. "I think I remember that," he said, before yelping when he was swept up into Liam’s arms. Liam grabbed Ronan as well, throwing both boys over his shoulders and marching them into the castle.

“That’s enough of that. Time to clean up,” Liam said with a wide smile. “We’ll meet you in the dining hall.” He pecked Alison on the cheek before walking with the squirming boys.

Alison was the first in the dining hall and she couldn’t stop her smiles as she and the maids fixed the food on the table. Time had been good to them, blessing the clan with a long peace and bountiful harvest. In the six years since Liam took his rightful place as head of the clan, alliances had been built and stability had reigned. Alison had often thought of her past self and the dreams for the future she’d once held. None of them had ever compared to the true peace and contentment she felt now. Laughter reached her, Liam’s loud bursts along with the two quieter chuckles of her boys. Kieran was the first to appear in the hall and his eyes widened when he took in the table.

“Wow, ma. Are we celebrating something?”

Alison smiled but shook her head. “Nay. I just thought it would be nice to have a big meal as a family.” Kieran didn’t know the circumstances of his birth, but one day he would be told. She wanted to make sure he felt secure in knowing they were his family and loved him beyond words, no matter his conception. He was her son, as sure as Ronan was. She hurried him to his seat as Liam and Ronan came through the doorway.

As they sat filling their plates with roasted potatoes and rabbit, the warmth of the room, the soft flicker of candlelight, and the smell of home-cooked food filled the space, wrapping them all in a sense of comfort and familiarity. Liam looked up at the three faces around him—Alison’s soft smile, Ronan’s bright eyes, and Kieran’s happy expression. It was moments like this, when the weight of the world seemed to lift and fade, that Liam felt truly at peace.

"Alright," Alison said, settling into her seat, "who’s going to tell me what the plan is for tomorrow? I know we’ve got another training session for Ronan, but I need to make sure everyone’s on the same page. Kieran, do you have your lessons set?"

The conversation flowed easily, as it always did. There were no formalities, no pretenses—just a family, sharing a meal and the comfort of their togetherness. Liam listened as they spoke, occasionally adding a remark, but mostly just taking in the quiet joy of the moment. His life—his family—was exactly what he had always wanted. This was what he had fought the demons of his grief for. A chance at the type of happiness he knew would be painted across the stars.

"Ronan’s getting faster," Kieran said, taking a bite of his stew. "He almost caught pa’s ankle with his sword.”

Ronan grinned at Kieran’s praise, his chest puffing out slightly with pride. "I’ll beat you tomorrow, pa!" he said, eyes shining with the same determination that Alison saw in Liam every day. The look of it made something warm in her chest and she had to look down with her eyes burned with happy tears.

"We’ll see about that, little warrior," Liam replied, affection clear in his tone.

Alison smiled softly. "Well, I’m glad someone’s excited about training. If only he was half as excited about his other studies."

Liam leaned back in his chair, content in the quiet rhythm of their family life. "I’m sure he will be. Won’t you lad?" Liam’s voice was steady and sure, a quiet promise to those who mattered most to him.

Despite all the council meetings, the strategies to consider and the decisions that would continue needing to be made weighing on his shoulders, Liam felt the pressure slip away. Here, in this room and at this table with the people he loved most, there was no battle he needed to fight. Not tonight. Tonight, it was enough to just be.