Author's Note: This is another story set in the universe but not actually including any of the copyrighted characters. This is set in the 1700s, around my character's past and his family; his parents are both dead in the game's timeline, however, and this is just a bit of nostalgia.

LIKE FATHER

With a chuckle, he ducked under the somewhat sloppy kick aimed for his head, snapping upright in good time to grab the foot and twist sharply, along with the rest of the leg. His opponent had enough sense and instinct to launch upward with their other boot, completely lifting off the floor, spinning sideways through the air from the applied force. Of course, Liam Starks wasn't expecting one of the spun feet to slam the side of his shoulder on the way past, and with a grunt, he was forced to the left and down. Rolling as he landed, he laughed, and looked to his sparring partner, seeing the cheeky grin; was that subtle triumph?

"Not bad," he commented, humour and slight pride lacing his tone. "Not bad at all." Standing from his crouch, he rubbed his shoulder, saying casually, "That was new."

"You deserved that," replied his opponent, rising with a slight bounce in his feet; he was practically bursting with energy… as always. Liam knew he would make a good fighter… he never seemed to tire or wear out.

Though his son was incredibly young, being only twenty-one, that was perhaps what was so promising. Most lycans of his age were still trying to puzzle out the dark secrets of the animal within. Liam had watched his son on full moon nights; he would slowly change back and forth, almost as if in study. It was as though the young lycan were memorising what changed, how and in what order. It was surprising. Of course, the first few changes – as with any lycan – had pained him terribly; given that he was a pureblood, it had been a somewhat lessened sensation… but at least once, Liam had watched his mate, Abigail, comfort their son when he was suffering. Only once had Liam ever seen tears, and that had been the very first change. It was to be expected, even with a pureblood.

Jason Starks was maturing well; better and faster than most others in the pack his age… at least in Liam's opinion. But then, his opinion was somewhat biased, he supposed. The young man had taken physical aspects from both his mother, Abigail, and his father alike. His hair and eyes, like both for starters; almost black locks, which were, like Liam's, somewhat feral at times; cunning green eyes came from mother and father, though there were flecks of hazel… and his mother's kindness. His build was mostly from his father, but there was no denying he'd taken some of his mother's almost feline grace and agility. More than once as a small boy, Jason had fallen – or jumped, perhaps – from a height, only to land on his feet. The first time, while nerve-wracking, had been surprising to say the least.

Of course, after then, Liam and Abigail had come to expect the unexpected. It came with parenthood, he supposed. Nothing was the same after they'd had Jason… not that he wanted to go back now. Having a child, in these times, was something to be thankful for, and cherished. One never knew if they would see tomorrow, and Jason – along with the other youngsters – would ensure the continuation of their hunted race. The vampires sometimes – viciously – seemed almost to target the females alone, thus removing the potential to breed. They had even lost one or two pregnant females that way; overly brave lycan women who had insisted they would be fine… ones who never came back home. Naturally, when Abigail had told Liam about her pregnancy, he had – after recovering from the initial shock, of course – been vehement she never set foot outside the lair. She had consented to that, thankfully, though, like her lover – and her son also now – she had boundless energy and drive; it was hard for any of them to keep still for long.

Hence the sparring.

"Are we going to fight, or…?" Jason cocked his head impatiently, flashing Liam a grin when their eyes met.

"If you insist," Liam teased, nodding for his son to be on the defensive. "Feet further apart," he advised. "Good; much better."

Since Jason had been old and strong enough, Liam had been training him. It was only right that the son adopt his father's style. Sometimes the other males stepped in to help, but Liam was naturally over-protective. It was usually just the two of them, with the odd visitor.

Without verbal warning, Liam lunged forward, using his weight to try and drive Jason into the ground and onto his back. The younger lycan apparently had other plans, gripping his father's shirt in such a manner that he could lift him clean off his feet, and through the air. Experience had taught Liam how to compensate quickly though, and he twisted his body right around, landing at an angle, before repeating his son's trick on him. Jason let out a startled yelp when he was flipped, landing flat on the ground. Looking up at Liam, he scowled lightly and winced subtly.

"Should have known you'd do that," Jason sighed.

Offering a hand downward, Liam nodded. "Yes, you should have."

Accepting the hand, Jason made to pull himself upward… and then suddenly jerked down on the arm. Liam yelled out briefly in surprise, especially when he felt firm boots come up to push into his stomach, effectively throwing him up and over his fallen opponent. Landing with a thud, Liam blinked. "Well… that should teach me…"

There was a mischievous laugh, and Jason's head and shoulders came into view, leaning over his father with a smirk. "Yes, it should."

"Never trust your own child."

Two sets of green eyes quickly turned to the doorway, and the younger smiled, hopping to his feet to greet his mother as she strode into the room. Abigail smiled at her son affectionately, stroking a hand through his hair and subsequently down his face, even as he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Don't be so rough on your father," she said softly.

"I was about to say the same thing," Liam commented, rising from the ground to kiss his lover in greeting.

"And don't be so rough on your son," she teased, mischief lighting up her bright eyes.

Chuckling softly, Liam smiled. She did enjoy playing one off the other, but only ever lightly.

Jason stood nearby, arms crossed loosely over his chest, as if restless. But now that his mother was here, he knew the sparring was done for the day. He wouldn't complain though; it wasn't his way. He got that from his mother too… but that wasn't to say he didn't have his father's stubborn streak.

"Jason," Abigail began, making eye contact with her son, "William is in the tunnels; he was asking after you."

"Okay." With an eager nod, he made to leave, even as Liam called to him.

"We'll continue this later."

Nodding and laughing, Jason turned out of the door and vanished from sight. His footsteps got fainter as he got further away, and Liam looked to his mate.

"And just what have you been doing with yourself, hmm?"

Abigail lifted a brow. "I've been biding my time… I knew the two of you would be sparring, so I thought I'd leave you to it." Her eyes flashed yellow for just a heartbeat. "Young William gave me the perfect excuse to interrupt."

Liam laughed softly, stroking her dark hair from her face. "Well… in that case…" Leaning forward, he caught her lips in his own, hearing her slight moaning purr of anticipation and desire.

"… I should thank young William…"

With that, and just a flash of gold in his eyes, he led his lover from the room.