All Adair McCallan had ever known was an easy life. Back in the castle, he was waited on hand and foot. He never had to lift a finger. Sure, he barely saw his father once a month, and he occasionally wondered what would it be like if he had his mother around, but why would he want to be a sniveling little boy who needed his parents? With his army of servants, he can survive on his own. Adair had always thought he needed no one, and his ego and pride had been cultivated by his father since a young age. In a way, it benefitted him now, for as much as he struggled to keep up with the tasks the older pageboys had to do, Adair refused to show he was winded by it, especially not to that guard which the demon MacKenzie had posted on him. He was not weak, nae he wasn't! He'll show them.
The determined look was all Tristan had seen for the whole morning and half of the afternoon, much to his amusement. It was what he reported to Hammond too, when the redheaded laird came over to check on them. Hammond had raised a brow at Tristan's report, glancing over at where Adair was mutinously staring at the gruel and kippers provided for their lunch by Mrs. O'Leary.
"He is nae eating?" Hammond asked.
Tristan shook his head. "He dinna touch breakfast, and now he isna touching the midday meal."
"Does he wish to faint?" the laird asked incredulously, about to go over when a boy of six, who Hammond faintly recognized as young Darach Chisolm, the son of one of the farmhand's in the main farmlands on the MacKenzie lands.
"Och, that Darach has always been a friendly one." a passing farmer commented with a genial smile. Hammond turned to acknowledge the speaker, but was surprised when he looked back and found the previously dark-faced Adair actually side-eyeing Darach. The dark haired farmer's son only chattered on one-sidedly, as he picked at his gruel, much to the raised browed looks from both Hammond and Tristan, as they exchanged perplexed looks.
Adair on the other hand, was beginning to find it increasingly hard to keep his aloof manner, as the ten or so page boys around him laughed, joked, played and had fun during their midday break. Was it even possible to feel alone with so many people around them? When Darach had came to sit next to him, the young boy had made it a point to turn away, giving his back to Darach even as the farmer's boy chattered on. Having spent his life growing up alone with naught but servants who were too scared to even look in his eye however, this sensation of having someone actually talk to him was new, if not a little unnerving. Was it normal to want to turn and look at them?
But being as stubborn as a mule, so long as Adair felt the eyes of Hammond and Tristan upon him, he refused to turn to Darach. That is, until two other boys walked up to them, one looking curious, and the other just plain fed up.
"Are ye gonna have that? If not, the rest of us are plain starving." the latter asked in a irritated tone.
"Cal, give the lad a break would ye. He just got here today. And he's tiny." Darach warned.
"Who ye calling tiny!" Adair responded, finally riled up enough to jump up and glare at all of them, almost toppling his bowl in the process had the more curious one not dived to save the bowl.
"Nae waste yer food lad! Food is scarce in winter. Show some respect would ye." the one Darach had called Cal hissed at him.
"Cal, tisnae help-"
"I dinna need yer help." Adair scowled as he cut in Darach's soothing words again, glaring at them all.
"Ye obviously do, if ye canna even finish yer food." the curious one peered at his full bowl, and then gave Adair a wry look. "And trust us, ye will want to finish yer food if yer to keep up with us. Evening work is gruelling. Mrs. O'Leary isna a nice task master."
"I dinna need ye ter tell me that. Leave off." the blond huffed, yanking his bowl away from the rusty headed boy and quickly shoveled the food down his throat. He heard a scoff, and looked up to find Cal nudging the curious one and muttering.
"That was easy Ewan, ye need ter teach me how ter do that."
Ewan laughed, exchanging a grin with Darach. "Patience ye dinna have, Cal."
"Malcolm Grant! Tis yer turn to wash the dishes, get yer tush here and quick!"the loud voice of Mrs. O'Leary drifted across the courtyard. "Ewan MacKenzie, ye as well! Quick!"
The two boys groaned, scowling. "Darach, put him in his place would ye, this young upstart." Malcolm said to Darach, who grinned and tossed Malcolm his bowl before the two ran off, leaving Adair quite aghast.
"We each pull oor weight here. All of us have oor own duties so oor clan can thrive."
"Thrive?" Adair echoed, forgetting his promise to himself to not speak unless necessary. He had been curious since the day began, how everything in the clan ran like clockwork, yet the people here had seemed so happy, as compared to the stark and cautious way people moved around his father back at Kincaid Castle. What was the difference?
Darach raised a brow, and nodded. For all of the two years he was older then Adair, it suddenly seemed as if Darach was a lot more wise. Adair forgot for a moment that he was supposed to hate them, and watched as Darach grabbed his now empty bowl from him. "We help each other. We make sure everyone is taken care of. With us, no one gets left behind. Apparently, not e'en ye."
The dark haired boy ran off to pass the bowl to Malcolm and the rest of the boys who were tasked with dish-washing. As Adair watched the remaining boys began to clean up the area where they ate, before they all filed in to help Mrs. O'Leary prepare the evening meal, curious questions popped in his mind. Simultaneously, he secretly wondered how would life had been like if he had been here instead over the past four years. Perhaps he wouldn't have had to deal with waking up from night terrors alone, or only watching from his window as the village kids laughed and played together.
---
Despite the sun being high in the sky, the room which Tamhas lay in was still dark, a stark contrast to the corridor Connor stepped out of as he entered the room holding a tray. His wife had wanted to care for the invalid they currently housed, but Evie's temper was unpredictable as the Highland weather these days. With Tamhas's crotchety mood from pain, Connor had no wish for Evie to get riled up before their trip to Cavalon Castle, and had took over the task of delivering food to Tamhas himself. He had full confidence in the abilities of his second-in-command after all.
The door creaked as he closed it slowly behind him. From the bed, he heard the sheets rustle, before a bleary voice, wary despite it being weak, called out "Who goes there?"
"Ye have been sleeping since morn. I've come with yer midday meal." Connor responded. He placed the tray on a chest surface, strode across the room to pull open a curtain. As the light streamed in, he heard the male sibling of Amhuinn groan.
"Ammi fed me her vile sleeping concoction again." Tamhas muttered. Connor watched with a raise brow as the sandy blond pushed himself to an upright position, blinked the sleep out of his eyes, and blearily glanced at Connor. "Who are ye?"
"Connor Gilroy, first in command to oor laird." he raised a brow, noting how haggard Tamhas looked. "What did Mistress Amhuinn feed ye? Must be strong, to knock ye oot fer so long."
"She came up with it herself. Lavender and magnolia bark, steeped in tea with some honey. Says its ter help stubborn people who dinna want ter sit and recuperate." Tamhas replied, his eyes wandering to the tray.
Connor heard his stomach grumble, and barked his laughter out as he walked across to pick up the bowl of gruel, kippers and preserved vegetables. "Tis a smart concoction. Many would need it here." he commented as he passed the bowl to Tamhas, who eagerly started on it. "I must say, I commend yer loyalty ter ye sister."
"She is all I have remaining. Who else am I supposed ter be loyal to?" Tamhas replied incredulously, looking at Connor who no leaned against the opened window with his arms crossed.
He shrugged. "But you are nae happy being alone with her in the woods all the time, are ye?"
Tamhas hesitated, averting his eyes. "Nae. I'm fine."
"Yer not." Connor called his bluff. He had not been first-in-command for the past 4 years for no reason. "Ye itch to be in the heat of things, ter be defending yer home. Tis why ye keep returning to Kincaid Castle to retrieve young Adair."
"I wanted ter get him cause Ammi missed her son." Tamhas argued, still not meeting Connor's eyes.
"Mistress Amhuinn would have been happier had ye not get yerself in trouble, me thinks." the other replied with a grin, especially when Tamhas did not reply. "I suggest ye stay here till ye heal, Tamhas. Ye dinna want yer sister ter do greater harm ter ye. It would be counterproductive."
"Just sitting here will drive me mad." Tamhas muttered. Connor chuckled, finally pushing off the wall to stride over to the bed. There, he patted Tamhas's back. Despite being younger then Tamhas, Connor's own past strife with issues and problems, had made him grow up faster, gaining wisdom far beyond what Tamhas had for now.
"Ye will sit here till ye heal. And when ye do, I'll bring ye ter the lists, and we can see what yer made of. How's that sound?" he offered with a smile.
For a moment, Tamhas almost looked boyish when he raised his brow, as if assessing the truth in Connor's words, before a smile finally broke on his face, nodding. "Deal."
---
"Gilly, what have ye been up ter? We've barely seen ye o'er the past few days."
Peeking into a barn further away from the Keep, Amhuinn found the redhead young MacKenzie lass bent over a workbench, moulding a thick piece of metal over a strong fire. Amhuinn could barely approach Gillian due to the waves of heat coming off the stove she worked over. Gillian herself was cladded in what appeared to be leather overalls over a dirt-smeared dress, her eyes squinting at a pair of leather bound glasses. "Gilly?" Amhuinn asked again.
While her first words had not pierced through the redhead's concentration, the second apparently did for Gillian quickly turned off her stove to turn around, grinning when she saw Amhuinn standing there with her basket of semi-dried herbs. With winter quickly approaching, Amhuinn had been collecting as much as she could before they all were stolen away by winter's frosty fingers. Her green kirtle rustled as she approached, curious blue gaze upon the various materials and tools she had scattered. "This is me workshop, Ammi. All of these are the stuff I use when I make stuff." Gillian explained.
Using her gloved hands, she picked up the round steel plate she had been moulding, showing it to the blonde. "This is what I've been making."
"What is it for?" Amhuinn asked in curiosity.
"Tis a baking pot." Gillian explained, heaving it on to her workbench. "I figure since Mrs. O'Leary can roast meats in her woodoven, I could dry yer herbs using fire. But it canna be too hot for they will burn, so I was looking at the Dutch oven's our ancestors used. I think ye can use a smaller version ter dry yer herbs."
"Och, that's a marvelous idea, Gilly!"Amhuinn exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face as she studied the thick plate. "Thank ye! Yer mind is amazing."
Gillian blushed, turning to nervously arrange her tools. "Tis nothing, Ammi. I..."
"Ye like ter solve people's problems, Gilly. We know." Amhuinn teased, laughing and going over to give the MacKenzie lass a brief hug. "Is this why ye asked me ter bring my herbs?"
Gillian nodded. "Aye. I needed to test the thickness of the base out ter make sure nothing burns." The redhead walked over to finger the herbs and roots Amhuinn had brought over, looking them over as she asked. "How's Finlay doing?"
"Much better." Amhuinn responded, walking over to peer curiously at other tools scattered on Gillian's wide workbench. "I gave Hilda the steeped tea for Finlay to sip on when'er he fusses. Hilda looks much better rested as well, so I think he's at least sleeping some. Is this whole place yers?"
"Aye, it is." Gillian explained, holding up some herbs against the plate size. "I initially started out tinkering in my room. But when I had too many things and almost set fire on the Keep one summer day, Hammond ordered this barn cleaned and aired fer me. His only condition is tha' I always inform someone afore I come here, so they know where I am."
"That's nice of him." Amhuinn murmured, again taken aback by how much kindness a laird can show, a stark difference from the Dougal MacCallan she knew.
"Hammond's always thinking fer others. I think he practically lives fer the clan." Gillian laughed.
"Does he nae have anything he wants?" Amhuinn asked, surprised.
"Not much, I think." his sister replied. "In fact, I think my brother has even went to the extent of not wanting ter marry."
"Why would he? What does that have to do with the clan?" the blonde asked in surprise.
Gillian shrugged. "Our mither's death caused our fither ter pass from heartbreak. I think it's taken it's toll on Hammond. He seems to think love and marriage would make him weak, so he's resolved to not walk down that path." The girl carefully arranged the herbs back in the basket, picked up another slab of metal and began moulding it loudly."He did meet a lass when he and Connor went to London and met Evie, but I dinna think anything much came oot of it."
A sharp streak went through Amhuinn's chest when Gillian mentioned a girl. Was he still infatuated with the girl? Was that why he does not wish to marry at all? That has nothing to do with ye, Amhuinn. Her inner conscience scolded her, forcing her to push that thought out of her mind as she spoke. "And the heir ter yer clan?"
Gillian paused, considering Amhuinn's words. "I think he's said he'll settled fer an arranged marriage. So long as tis nothing that will make him feel too much. I think it's rubbish."
"Why do ye?" Amhuinn couldn't resist asking.
"Hammond is a passionate man.I know my big brother." By then, Gillian spoke almost absent-mindedly as her hands worked. Amhuinn was entranced by all the information on Hammond she was getting, curious to know about him and unwilling to admit the reason behind the curiosity. "He never does anything in half-measures, so when he finds love, I dinna think he'll just settle either."
"But dinna that mean he's similar ter how yer fither would be if he lost his love?" Amhuinn asked.
The other shrugged again. "I canna be sure, but I dinna think so. Hammond is passionate but responsible. I've seen love though. Â I dinna wish fer my brother ter have a loveless marriage, but he hasna listened to what I told him so far anyway."
Amhuinn fell silent at Gillian's explanation, now both curious and disheartened by Gillian's words. He was gentle and passionate, from as far as Amhuinn could see how he treated his clan members both big and small. She was already eternally grateful to him for willing to help her,a  complete stranger in regaining both her brother and son back. Technically, she shouldn't ask for more, right?
"I think he will listen ter ye though, Ammi." Gillian's words caught her off guard.
Amhuinn blinked in surprise. "What makes ye think so?"
"He looks at ye different." Gillian explained, placing her hammer down to give a little sly grin. "My brother is putty in yer hands. I'm ashamed ter say it was probably because of how beautiful ye are at first, but now it's so much more."
Amhuinn blushed at the compliment, but before she could ask further on what Gillian meant, the door burst opened with a crash, and Tristan came running in. Amhuinn's blood rushed to her head again, afraid that something would have happened to her son. She tried to remind herself that the last time this happened, it was simply Finlay with teething issues, but she found it hard to calm her racing heart as the young warrior ran up.
"Mistress. Yer... Yer son. Adair. He fainted."