Outlander Lover

Lord John smiles. "I have attended a great many weddings over the years." He says. "Some seemed founded upon duty, others upon convenience. It is always a pleasure to witness one founded upon genuine affection."

Brian glances towards Inga. "I count myself fortunate."

"As do I." Inga replies quietly.

Lord John smiles. "Then I shall not keep you from your guests." He offers another courteous inclination of his head. "I wish you both long years together and every blessing."

"Thank you," Brian says sincerely.

As Lord John disappears back into the gathering, Roger and Ellen approach, Jem perched happily upon Roger's shoulders.

"There ye are," Roger calls.

Jem spots Brian immediately. "Unca Brian!"

"Well," Brian laughs, "someone seems pleased to see me."

Roger lifts the little boy down, and Jem immediately launches himself at Brian, who catches him easily despite still wearing his wedding coat.

"There he is." Brian says, kissing the top of his nephew's head. "Were you good?"

"No."

Roger snorts. "At least he's honest."

Ellen reaches Inga first, embracing her tightly. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you."

"And congratulations."

Inga hugs her back. "Thank you."

Roger clasps Brian's shoulder. "Congratulations, brother."

"Thank you." Brian replies. "We thank you for allowing us to stay at the cabin tonight."

Roger grins mischievously. "Of course, every newlywed couple needs some privacy."

Ellen elbows him on the side with a grin on her face. Inga blushes and Brian huffs a quiet laugh.

"If you're sure." Inga quickly says. "I hate to think we're pushing you out of you're home."

Ellen waves a hand. "'Course. Anyway, we'll be in the big house so it's definitely no hardship."

Roger shifts Jem onto his hip after taking him back from Brian after the young boy put up a fuss. "So," he says, "have ye nearly finished then, with yer own cabin?"

Brian laughs. "Nearly, just need the final touches."

The two men drift into conversation about the cabin while Ellen and Inga begin to talk amongst themselves.

Inga lets her gaze wander across the gathering and beyond the dancers; she notices Eudora and Penuel MacEalair standing beneath a maple tree. Both girls are sharply muttering to each other; both are looking directly towards Inga with expressions that are distinctly less cheerful than everyone else's.

Inga blinks. She turns back to Ellen. "Are they well?"

Ellen follows her gaze and promptly laughs. "Oh, they're fine."

"Really?"

"They're just jealous."

Inga blinks incredulously. "Jealous?"

Ellen laughs again. "You've no idea, have you?"

"I don't think so."

"Those two have been trying to catch his attention for a couple of years now." Her sister-in-law explains.

"Should I be worried?" Inga asks worriedly.

"Only if they decide to challenge you to a duel with knitting needles." Ellen quips.

Inga laughs. "They look rather determined."

"They'll recover." Ellen smiles mischievously. "Eventually."

Inga watches the sisters for another moment before shaking her head. Brian glances over, notices her moment of uncertainty, and gives her a small reassuring smile. Inga relaxes slightly before turning back to Ellen.

——

The ceilidh is well underway. Brian leans by Ellen at one of the tables after finally escaping the latest set of dances. His hair is askew and there's a thin layer of sweat on his forehead as he gulps down his drink. He still finds himself a little breathless when Ellen speaks.

"Do you think..." Ellen begins, then hesitates. "Do you think Ian's happy?"

Brian follows her gaze into the fire for a moment before answering. "I hope so."

"Me too."

The last word they had received had come the previous autumn. Ian had married, and there had been a baby expected in the spring. Spring had long since passed now.

"I'd like to think he's holding his baby by now." Brian says quietly. The thought sits heavy in his chest, missing Ian, yet hoping he's celebrating somewhere too.

Ellen smiles too, though there is sadness behind it. "I'd like that."

For a moment they simply listen to the music. The fiddle and pipes fill the warm evening air while couples spin across the clearing, skirts and kilts sweeping through the firelight.

"I miss him."

"Yeah. Me too."

For a quiet moment, neither says anything more, content to hope that somewhere far away, their cousin is happy, healthy, and celebrating with his own growing family.

——