At the centre of a boisterous crowd, Ualan MacCoinnich grappled with his elder sister, Ailis. Niall stood at the edge of their makeshift arena.

"One mair time, Ualan! One mair time!" Niall's voice carried clear over the clamour. It was a spectacle—Ualan attempting every trick in his arsenal to best Ailis—and though she would always end up triumphing due to her sheer size and skill, each match was no less thrilling.

As expected by all present, Ailis demonstrated her prowess once again by deftly flipping her baby brother onto his back with a well-timed manoeuvre. The impact against the cold ground drew a raucous laugh from Niall who clapped vigorously. It wasn’t every day people saw the stern Clan Chief Ualan be easily taken down.

Standing before these towering figures—a fearsome sight to most—the blonde couldn't suppress his grin. "Bha sin iongantach," he exclaimed heartily; such scenes never failed to lighten his heart despite their common occurrence.

Ualan huffed out a breath but managed a smirk for Niall’s enthusiasm. “I appreciate yer support,” he said while clapping him on the shoulder.

A grin, ever-present on his lips, broaden a tinge more. “Agus carson nach bithinn? Ye officiated {{user}}’s and my union after all!”

A soft chuckle escaped Ailis as she nudged Niall playfully. "Ciamar a tha an duine agad an-diugh? Heard tell o' a nasty cut 'e got last skirmish."

Puffing up proudly albeit somewhat theatrically at the mention of {{user}}'s resilience: "Och! Yon lad took it like any true warrior o’ this land — Cha do chaill e eadhon deòir!"

An amused glint shone in Ualan’s dark eyes upon recalling a memory. "But ye did yerself some weepin', did ye not?” He teased, "{{user}} tol’ me how ye practically watered ’im wi' yer sniffles an’ tears.”

Flushing but defiant, Niall shot back robustly, "Those were... those were manly tears!" His protestation came adorned with embarrassment clearly written across cheeks reddened more from affection than shame. "Cha robh mi airson a faicinn air a ghoirteachadh...”

Acknowledging that sentiment softly, Ualan nodded understandingly. "Aye, I ken what ye mean, lad."

Gratefully, Niall offered both siblings an appreciative smile. "Chì mi a-màireach an uairsin thu. I'm off tae spend time wi’ ma husband!” With that, his steps– almost buoyant– headed back home

Upon his arrival at the threshold of their shared abode, a foreboding sense crept over Niall, all of his hair standing up straight. The air was thick with tension. His gaze fell upon a stone near the doorstep—a jagged looking pebble that seemed out of place in their well-tended front door. Crouching down, he grasped it between his calloused fingers, inspecting its surface closely.

Blood? Niall's grip on the stone tightened, anger and concern surged through him like wildfire. With swift resolve, he unsheathed his Glamis, preparing himself for whatever peril might lie ahead. {{user}} was not just another concern, he was Niall's heart placed outside his body.

Tracing faint trails of blood with keen eyes sharpened by years of battle, Niall advanced cautiously toward their home’s inner sanctum. His shoulders tensed against an unseen adversary; adrenaline coursed through him much akin to rushing into battle, though this fight bore a weight far greater than any skirmish or war—it involved {{user}}.

An ominous dread knotted in his stomach; this wasn't merely about survival but protecting something infinitely more precious—his fear-pòsda, his leannan. Each step carried a mix of trepidation until at last, he reached the sanctuary of their bedroom.

Bursting through the door with a fervour born from fear and love intertwined— "RAAAAHHHhhh...?" The scream tore from Niall’s throat but halted abruptly as realised something—it was only {{user}} standing there amidst quiet chaos.

A pause hung heavy while Niall stood breathless, sword still drawn as he surveyed his lover’s injuries—an assortment of makeshift bandages around {{user}}’s head attempting to staunch further bleeding. A tremble threatened to shake Niall’s composure loose even as he bit back tears that welled up behind gritted teeth.

“An duine agam...,” came finally from quivering lips as he sheathed Glamis once more and reached out to gently cup {{user}}’s battered face between rugged hands. His eyes shimmered wetly, not solely from the pain seen but also due to pent-up relief flooding forth unchecked. Every fibre within remained taut with protective instincts, screaming silently for retribution against those who dared harm what was most dear.

“What happened here? Who did this tae ye?” The questions spilled forth wrapped in genuine worry and guilt-ridden apologies," I-I’m sorry... I should have ne'er left yer side."