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claritalunaluna76 · 4 years ago

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The UK parliament’s Digital, Culture, Media and Sport Committee is working on its report (and recommendations) from its inquiry into the economics of music streaming. One of the big talking points during the inquiry’s evidence sessions was equitable remuneration (ER): specifically extending it from radio and TV to some streams.

The Broken Record campaign has made ER one of its key requests of the committee; labels have argued firmly against it; and (in our view, at least) the committee seems to be leaning more towards the former camp. But the committee isn’t the British government, so if ER is to be extended, ministers will need to be convinced too.

That campaign is already starting. A letter sent to Prime Minister Boris Johnson – and shown to Music Ally this morning – sees a who’s who of British musicians backing such an extension. Sir Paul McCartney, Annie Lennox, Chris Martin, Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, Kate Bush, Roger Daltrey, Damon Albarn, Noel Gallagher, Laura Marling, Sir Tim Rice… and many more.

“Only two words need to change in the 1988 Copyright, Designs and Patents Act. This will modernise the law so that today’s performers receive a share of revenues, just like they enjoy in radio,” argues the letter. But it also calls for a competition inquiry (or at least a government referral to watchdog the Competition and Markets Authority); for songwriters to get a bigger share of streaming royalties; and the establishment of a dedicated regulator “to ensure the lawful and fair treatment of music makers”.

Later today, we’ll publish our quarterly Music Ally report, including our analysis of the key talking points of the inquiry, and what might happen next. One of our suggestions was that while the DCMS committee seemed sympathetic to the Broken Record campaign’s arguments, the government ministers seemed to be leaning more towards labels’ view of the world.

The letter shows that the former group are going to work hard to change that, and in wheeling out the musical big guns, the intensity of the lobbying has stepped up several notches – even before the DCMS committee’s report has come out. Labels and their representative body the BPI must now decide how best to respond.

Here is the full text of the letter, and its signatories:

———-

Dear Prime Minister,

We write to you on behalf of today’s generation of artists, musicians and songwriters here in the UK.

For too long, streaming platforms, record labels and other internet giants have exploited performers and creators without rewarding them fairly. We must put the value of music back where it belongs – in the hands of music makers.

Streaming is quickly replacing radio as our main means of music communication. However, the law has not kept up with the pace of technological change and, as a result, performers and songwriters do not enjoy the same protections as they do in radio.

Today’s musicians receive very little income from their performances – most featured artists receive tiny fractions of a US cent per stream and session musicians receive nothing at all.

To remedy this, only two words need to change in the 1988 Copyright, Designs and Patents Act. This will modernise the law so that today’s performers receive a share of revenues, just like they enjoy in radio. It won’t cost the taxpayer a penny but will put more money in the pockets of UK taxpayers and raise revenues for public services like the NHS.

There is evidence of multinational corporations wielding extraordinary power and songwriters struggling as a result. An immediate government referral to the Competition and Markets Authority is the first step to address this. Songwriters earn 50% of radio revenues, but only 15% in streaming. We believe that in a truly free market the song will achieve greater value.

Ultimately though, we need a regulator to ensure the lawful and fair treatment of music makers. The UK has a proud history of protecting its producers, entrepreneurs and inventors. We believe British creators deserve the same protections as other industries whose work is devalued when exploited as a loss-leader.

By addressing these problems, we will make the UK the best place in the world to be a musician or a songwriter, allow recording studios and the UK session scene to thrive once again, strengthen our world leading cultural sector, allow the market for recorded music to flourish for listeners and creators, and unearth a new generation of talent.

We urge you to take these forward and ensure the music industry is part of your levelling-up agenda as we kickstart the post-Covid economic recovery.

Yours sincerely,

Full list of signatories:

Damon Albarn OBE

Lily Allen

Wolf Alice

Marc Almond OBE

Joan Armatrading CBE

David Arnold

Massive Attack

Jazzie B OBE

Adam Bainbridge (Kindness)

Emily Barker

Gary Barlow OBE

Geoff Barrow

Django Bates

Brian Bennett OBE

Fiona Bevan

Alfie Boe OBE

Billy Bragg

The Chemical Brothers

Kate Bush CBE

Melanie C

Eliza Carthy MBE

Martin Carthy MBE

Celeste

Guy Chambers

Mike Batt LVO

Don Black OBE

Badly Drawn Boy

Chrissy Boy

Tim Burgess

Mairéad Carlin

Laura-Mary Carter

Nicky Chinn

Dame Sarah Connolly DBE

Phil Coulter

Roger Daltrey CBE

Catherine Anne Davies (The Anchoress)

Ian Devaney

Chris Difford

Al Doyle

Anne Dudley

Brian Eno

Self Esteem

James Fagan

Paloma Faith

Marianne Faithfull

George Fenton

Rebecca Ferguson

Robert Fripp

Shy FX

Gabrielle

Peter Gabriel

Noel Gallagher

Guy Garvey

Bob Geldof KBE

Boy George

David Gilmour CBE

Nigel Godrich

Howard Goodall CBE

Jimi Goodwin

Graham Gouldman

Tom Gray

Roger Greenaway OBE

Will Gregory

Ed Harcourt

Tony Hatch OBE

Richard Hawley

Justin Hayward

Fran Healy

Orlando Higginbottom

Jools Holland OBE, DL

Mick Hucknall

Crispin Hunt

Shabaka Hutchings

Eric Idle

John Paul Jones

Julian Joseph OBE

Kano

Linton Kwesi Johnson

Gary Kemp

Nancy Kerr

Richard Kerr

Soweto Kinch

Beverley Knight MBE

Mark Knopfler OBE

Annie Lennox OBE

Shaznay Lewis

Gary Lightbody OBE

Tasmin Little OBE

Calum MacColl

Roots Manuva

Laura Marling

Johnny Marr

Chris Martin

Claire Martin OBE

Cerys Matthews MBE

Sir Paul McCartney CH MBE

Horse McDonald

Thurston Moore

Gary “Mani” Mounfield

Mitch Murray CBE

Field Music

Frank Musker

Laura Mvula

Kate Nash

Stevie Nicks

Orbital

Roland Orzabal

Gary Osborne

Jimmy Page OBE

Hannah Peel

Daniel Pemberton

Yannis Philippakis

Anna Phoebe

Phil Pickett

Robert Plant CBE

Karine Polwart

Emily Portman

Chris Rea

Eddi Reader MBE

Sir Tim Rice

Orphy Robinson MBE

Matthew Rose

Nitin Sawhney CBE

Anil Sebastian

Peggy Seeger

Nadine Shah

Feargal Sharkey OBE

Shura

Labi Siffre

Martin Simpson

Skin

Mike Skinner

Curt Smith

Fraser T Smith

Robert Smith

Sharleen Spiteri

Lisa Stansfield

Sting CBE

Suggs

Tony Swain

Heidi Talbot

John Taylor

Phil Thornalley

KT Tunstall

Ruby Turner MBE

Becky Unthank

Norma Waterson MBE

Cleveland Watkiss MBE

Jessie Ware

Bruce Welch OBE

Kitty Whately

Ricky Wilde

Olivia Williams

Daniel “Woody” Woodgate

Midge Ure OBE

Nikki Yeoh

#musicians union #tom gray #broken record #musically #music industry: streaming

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thebrochtuarachs · 5 years ago

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Arranged: Chapter 5

Modern AU. Set in 2018. Where Claire and Jamie are arranged to be married.

CH: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

AO3

A/N: In celebration of my 25th birthday, I am finally updating this fic! Hope you like it and so excited to share the coming chapters ahead! _____________________________

Monday rolled out and she hadn’t heard from either Jamie and Frank over the weekend.

Frank did warn her that communications will be hard as being in remote areas during his excavation project in Egypt and she really didn’t expect much from Jamie since they agreed to keep discussions off about their arrangement during weekends. It should’ve soothed her mind but she jumped between feeling calm and restless as the weekend passed by.

As a woman of science, Claire relied on logic in dealing with issues in her life and more than not, logic helps her arrive in a viable and proper decision. However, being in a relationship is more than quantifiable facts and figures. It involves – should involve – a matter of heart and emotion that she will have to take into consideration.

On one end, the choice should was clear – Frank. Although they have only been going out barely a month, at least, to her - them, they were official. He was older with a stable career, more mature – sometimes too much – but she can get on with it. But more importantly, he likes her enough to actually pursue her even at the risk of his job.

But then last week, she went home for dinner only for her family to announce that they were arranging a marriage for her to her childhood friend who she hasn’t seen in the past half year. She was definitely angry and confused at the beginning, however, she couldn’t deny that continuously spending time with Jamie the past three days have been entirely pleasant, even if it was in the most common and domestic situations. It surprised her to feel that what she looked forward to the most was the time of day they’ve scheduled just for themselves at the cafe. She couldn’t lie to herself and not say that Jamie was somehow in her emotional mix now regardless of how that came to be.

It was unchartered territory to her and she was definitely unsure what the outcome will be and that heightened her anxiety a different level.

Claire shook her head and refocused her mind on her classes instead as she drove on her way to school. The day went by fairly normal. Not hearing from either men didn’t trigger anything and she was thankful for that, saving her energy now that she was on the way to the café to meet up with Jamie.

As she walked to the parking lot, she heard voices from behind one of the larger vehicles that kept the group of men hidden from plain view. Despite that, she heard one voice that was entirely too familiar. One would think that living in Scotland for most her life that everyone’s accent would be the same but Jamie’s voice registers uniquely to her.

She paused, waiting to hear what was going on. She peeked at the situation but didn’t intervene.

“Let him go, Grant.” Jamie said warningly.

“What will ye do then, Fraser?”

“Ye coward, picking up on someone ye know canna fight ye fairly.” Jamie dwelled for a moment before declaring. “I’ll fight ye.”

“Jamie, no!” a person unfamiliar to Claire pleaded back. “Let them do as they wish to me.”

“No, no, no.” Malcolm Grant said. “Tis’ an offer I canna pass. Finally having a chance to give the famous Jamie Fraser a piece of this.” Malcolm held up his fist but Claire saw Jamie unbothered.

Malcolm shoved Jamie’s friend to the side and when Claire saw his difficulty getting up, it became clear to her what Jamie meant by fighting fairly. Ian wore a prosthetic on his right leg.

Her thoughts abruptly stopped once she heard the sound of a punch landing on the face. Malcolm and Jamie didn’t waste time getting at it with Jamie getting the upper hand because of his size and strength. He landed two punches that sent Malcolm at a distance but then two of his groupies suddenly appeared from nowhere and it was now a 3-on-1 battle.

“This is our fight, Grant. Ask yer men to leave”

Malcolm ticked his tongue. “Awww, since when was I fair on anything, Fraser?” he remarked, smirking at the upper hand he now has. “Get him” he ordered and his guys held Jamie by the arms, rendering him at a great disadvantage. Jamie’s friend tried to join the fight but his prosthetic was easily deformed by Malcolm that left him to watch Jamie deal with it all by himself.

Jamie tried to fight off the two men but it was to no avail. Malcolm came close to him, patting his cheek. “Such shame to destroy this pretty face”

Then everything happened quickly thereafter. With Jamie helpless, Grant threw one punch to his face, then to his stomach, and the last straight to his nose that caused him to bleed profusely.

Everything happened so fast that it took Claire a second to react and interrupted them.

“What the hell is this?! You better leave or I am calling the police?” she made herself known with the threat.

“And who might you be, pretty lass?” Malcolm asked, definitely interested in the lady that has arrived.

“Claire – leave…“ was all Jamie managed to say as he heaved, recovering from the punch.

“So the pretty lass has a name. Claire…beautiful” he started walking towards her and Jamie tried to get away again but Malcolm’s guys were fast and held him off.

“Stop right there.” Claire commanded as she pulled at her phone and started dialing.

“Okay, okay.” Malcolm raised his hand and backed off. “Come on ye two.”

“Really boss?!” One of them inquired.

“Ye, ye.”

The two men shoved Jamie towards where his friend was and the three started walking away. Malcolm turned around, looking at Claire with a smug face. “This isna the last ye’ll see of me…Claire”

Claire all but ran to Jamie’s side, checking up on his condition. “You’ve broken your nose”, she assessed while trying to see any other injuries.

“I’m fine.” Jamie said, standing up and then turning to his friend to help him up too.

“No, you’re not. You’re bleeding, you bloody Scot! Come on, we need to get you to the clinic to fix that nose…”

“Claire Beauchamp, this is Ian Murray. Ian Murray, Claire Beauchamp.” Jamie interrupted her with his introductions.

“Hello, Ian.” She turned to him, checking him up to. “How’s the leg?”

Ian’s brows rose in surprise then his eyes drooped in embarrassment. “I am sorry.”

“Whatever are you sorry for?” Claire said, hoping that her message came to Ian in kind and not in spite.

“How did ye know?” Ian asked.

“Just by observation, nothing to worry about.”

“I think Grant hit the mechanism when he shoved me. We really need to go to the clinic.” Ian explained and Jamie groaned at the inevitable.

The three of them walked awkwardly towards the clinic while Claire repeatedly reprimanded Jamie under her breath. “Being punched three times, broke a nose and says he’s bloody fine...”

Jamie laughed that sent more blood to ooze from his not but he didn’t care.

“Don’t laugh! Who were those guys anyway?” she asked.

“Ach, no one, Sassenach.”

“They’re the Grants.” Ian answered instead. “They love to bully me around uni but Jamie wouldn’t allow them to no matter how many times I asked him to stay away from it.”

“Why to they pick on you?”

“Er, the obvious I guess.” Ian explained.

“Just for that?”

“Eh,” Ian just shrugged as they finally arrive at the clinic.

The nurses didn’t waste time fixing Jamie up as soon as they saw the bloody mess on his face. When asked how he broke his nose, Jamie explained that he fell off the stairs. The nurses raised an eyebrow in skepticism then looked at Ian and Claire for confirmation. They just nodded because if they knew the real reason, it might cause something else they don’t want to deal with.

It took less than half an hour for the nurses to fix Jamie’s nose and cuts and for Ian’s leg to be working again and they were out with strict orders of rest and fluids.

“I’ll see you home, Jamie.” Ian offered but Jamie refused.

“No, tis’ alright, Ian. Ye ken we live on opposite sides of the city plus I’m fine, really and home is just a bus ride away”

“I wouldn’t mind”

“No, and tis that. Go home, Ian. I’ll see ye tomorrow.” Jamie patted Ian in the shoulder in assurance.

“If ye say so. Head home, too, and rest. You’re more banged up than I am.” Ian returned the gesture and turned to Claire. “Tis nice to meet ye, Claire. I just hoped it was in better circumstances.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’ll see you around.”

Ian left the opposite direction leaving Claire and Jamie to deal with themselves.

“I dinna think I can go to our wee meeting today, Sassenach. My head’s a bit woozy right now” Jamie turned to Claire sheepishly, trying to scratch a small itch on his nose but hissed when he touched a sensitive area.

“I’ll take you home, Jamie” she offered.

“No, ye dinna have to do that, Claire.”

“Please. I brought my car today so it’s no bother really.” she countered, not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

“Alright, I dinna want to argue wi’ anyone anymore today.”

The drive to Jamie’s was silent, mostly because Jamie dozed off during the ride. When they arrive at the Frasers, Ellen asked the same questions as the nurse at school and also turned to Claire for confirmation to story they all know not to be true.

“Claire, if you could settle my son at the living room, I’ll get some ice from the kitchen.”

“Mam, ye dinna have to bother…”

Ellen Fraser only have to give Jamie a look for him to follow her orders and Claire giggled.

“Don’t laugh, my mam is going to have my hide no matter how grown up I am” Jamie chastised humorly.

“How are you going to explain this one away?”

“I dinna ken, maybe stay silent until she just gives up?”

“Like that’s going to work on Aunt Ellen”

Jamie gave a scottish grunt just as his mother entered the room, handing Jamie a pack of frozen peas.

“Must be some slippery stairs for you to fall face first and break your nose, my son.”

“Aye, tis”

“Your father and I will love for you to regale that tale over dinner. Claire, my dear, will you be joining us for dinner as well?”

“Oh? I - uhm..”

Jamie looked at her with pleading eyes to stay and help him get through his family’s questioning.

“Let me just call my mom” Claire took out her phone, dialed home and after a few minutes. “I’m free for dinner”

“Fantastic! Now, I’ll leave you two kids to fend for yourselves. Dinner will be ready in a few hours”

Ellen Fraser left for the kitchen and Jamie stretched on the sofa, tending to his swollen face. The silence stretched and Claire wasn’t really sure how to go about it. She never really had a reason to stay long at the Fraser’s house unless it was one of their family dinners and it was definitely a long time since she stayed over their house for no reason at all. It wasn’t uncomfortable, she just didn’t know what else to do.

“Claire” Jamie turned to her, breaking her thoughts and sensing her slight uneasiness. “Do ye still know how to ride?”

“Of course, I do”

“Would ye like to look around the estate?”

“Sure”

It was a lovely afternoon for a ride and Jamie was pleased that the horse he’s chosen was immediately taken to Claire. She’s a natural rider, he observed and he was glad that she looked to be enjoying herself.

They reached the farther ends of the property, going to areas they’d frequent before as kids - the river they’d sneak off to in the summer, the treehouse fort they’d only let their parents enter with a password, the pond they’d skate around during the winter. They talked about memories of their childhood until they found themselves at the top of a hill, watching the sun fall from the horizon.

Claire dismounted first and walked towards the huge oak tree near the edge. Jamie dismounted after her but only took the reigns of her horse and let her wander towards the edge.

“It’s beautiful. Why don’t I remember this place? Haven’t I been here before?” Claire asked in succession and Jamie just stayed silent. He had planned on taking here there a long time ago to tell her of his intentions to court her but timing always never felt right until it was too late and he found out about Frank Randall.

“We hadn’t rode this far before.” he excused.

“Well, I’ll definitely come back and visit this place. Just look at this view! The endless rolling hills!” Claire excitedly proclaimed as she took out her phone and took a photo. Once the task was done, she turned around to head back to Jamie and her horse. And in that moment as she walked, the sun perfectly aligned behind her, creating a silhouette that took Jamie’s breath away.

Ah, dhia. She is beautiful.

Surprising even himself, he had enough awareness to hand her back her horse and ride away without getting too caught up in the situation.

A few minutes later the house was in view and they were depositing the horses back in the stables.

“Thank you for the ride. I haven’t had the chance in a long while, I almost forgot how much I loved it. I know I should be studying or doing our research but this is way more fun and relaxing. A nice break, is it not?”

“Glad you enjoyed it, Sassenach. Tis’ my pleasure.”

From the back door of the kitchen, Ellen called out that dinner was ready.

Jamie and Claire settled their horses and before Jamie could muster what was happening, Claire shoved passed him and started running like a child towards the house.

“Tag! Last one to the house is the loser, Fraser!” Claire called out and they were off to the races, she with the headstart but Jamie not far behind her. Their laughs echoed throughout the deserted field and it was just like they were 7 and 9 again. Jamie fought the urge not to tackle or hug her from behind resulting in his loss.

“Wash yer hands before ye proceed to the table” Ellen ordered upon the duo’s entry. Claire continued her victory cheer as she headed for the sink to clean up. Ellen Fraser greeted her son by the door, gave him a smirk and then tousled his hair to disarray to which Jamie only happily rolled his eyes.

Thankfully, Jamie’s parents didn’t push him enough to explain the bruises he has but let it slide for the time being, happy that he’s home and safe.

Dinner had been a lovely affair for the foursome. Ellen and Brian regaled childhood memories of Jamie and Claire’s, laughing and embarrassing them both to no end.

“Let me just get us another bottle” Ellen stood and Jamie followed his mam to help her.

In the recess of the kitchen, Ellen turned to her son who was reaching for another bottle of wine.

“Tis’ nice having dinner with Claire.” Ellen remarked, leaning on the counter.

“Ye have dinner with her once a month, mam, for the past 20 years. Ye’ve known her all yer life.” he retorted.

“True, but tonight, seeing ye and her, getting to know the woman she is and becoming” Ellen sighed. “I love that girl like she was my own daughter, ye ken. But now, I really wish she was my daughter, if ye get my meaning”

Jamie turned around to give his mother an exasperated look but was stopped in his tracks when his mother produced a small, black velvet box from her pocket.

“Mam..”

“It would give me great pleasure if ye gave this to her.” holding up Jamie’s hand and pressing the box to his keeping.

“Our situations complicated enough..” Jamie said as he tried to hand it back to his mother.

“I’m no asking ye to give it to her tonight. Just...” she paused, raised one hand to his cheek to get his attention. ”hold on to it, aye?”

Unbeknown to the two, Claire had been watching the entire scene unfold through a small opening in the kitchen door. Brian had asked her to follow them to request for the cake as well when she heard their conversation.

She meant to show herself sooner but when Ellen produced the ring box, she was frozen on the spot. She watched Jamie try to refuse it but to no avail. Aunt Ellen didn’t mean to pressure Jamie either, it seems, much to her relief. However, she couldn’t deny the small curiosity in what is beneath it.

Claire shook her head and pushed the thoughts away. As she saw Jamie place the box in his pocket, Claire entered the kitchen asking for dessert.

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bee-kathony · 5 years ago

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The Oath | Ch. 24 “All I Want For Christmas”

a/n: I hope you don’t mind a Christmas chapter in July! This chapter is a wee break from all that legal business so I hope you enjoy! As always thank you to @lcbeauchampoftarth for being a wonderful beta <3 nsfw near the end

Arc I | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 18 | Ch. 19 | Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23

December 25th, 2019

Lallybroch was lit up beautifully, just as Jamie said it would be. Christmas lights hung on every window, on the tree, and along the roof, making the house shine. Claire always thought it looked like a house from a fairytale, and now it really was.

They arrived yesterday afternoon, just in time to settle inside before a fresh snow started to fall. This would be their first Christmas together as a family, and although Madeline was still too small to remember it in the future, Claire wanted it to be perfect.

It was a tradition in the Fraser household, as it was likely in most homes, to read ’Twas The Night Before Christmas before everyone went to bed on Christmas Eve. They all sat in the living room: Jenny, Ian, and their three children; and Jamie near the fire, with Madeline cradled on his lap.

“’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring,” Jamie said in his thick Scottish accent. “Not even a mouse; the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas would soon be there…”

His voice was almost hypnotic. The soothing hum of his deep voice and the warm fire were a balm to Claire’s heart. It had fractured a bit, with everything going on in the past month. All she wanted was for her life to settle down so she could enjoy it. Time was already moving faster than she would like, and there simply wasn’t enough of it.

Surprisingly, all the Murray children sat quietly, with only a few wiggles from the littlest one as Jamie read. They loved their uncle, and seeing the way Jamie captured their attention almost made Claire want those eleven other children he was talking about — almost.

A plate of decorated sugar cookies and a tall glass of milk were both set out on the table and the kids eyed it suspiciously as they walked upstairs to bed. Growing up, Claire had never believed in Santa Claus. Her parents had told her the story of him when she was young, but for some reason the idea of a big, jolly, fat man climbing down the chimney never made any sense to her. So it was rather sweet for Claire to see the excitement radiating off the children as they said good night on that Christmas Eve.

It wasn’t much longer before the rest of the adults fell into their own beds, exhausted from hours of keeping the children entertained. Madeline was sleeping in one of the Murray children’s old cribs in Claire and Jamie’s room. Taking one last look at her, Claire smiled before climbing into bed next to Jamie.

He slid his arm around her, and pulled her close. Claire laid her head against his chest, taking in the warm, musky smell of him.

“I’m very excited for tomorrow,” she said.

“Aye, so am I, mo ghraidh. I can’t wait to give ye yer present.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Well, tis Madeline’s present, but also yers, seein’ how she canna exactly appreciate it just now.”

“Oh really?” Claire looked up at him. “What sort of present?”

“Och, yer really tryin’ to get me to spill a secret I’ve kept for months only hours before Christmas Day?” he laughed and pressed his thumb against her chin.

“Worth a shot,” Claire pinched his stomach lightly with her fingers. “I know Madeline won’t really have memories from her first Christmas, but we will, and I want it to be perfect.”

“It will be, Sassenach.” Jamie kissed the top of her head. “Tis wild to think about how I felt this time last year compared to now.”

“Hmm,” Claire hummed, feeling sleep weigh on her eyelids. “And how did you feel last year?”

He hadn’t really thought about it until just now, but last year Jamie had been anxious about the opening of the business, considering it was something he never thought he would own one day.

“Ye ken my father passed last year, in February.”

“Yes, I remember you told me a bit on the first night we met,” Claire said.

“It’s crazy to even think it’s been almost two years since that happened,” Jamie sighed. “I struggled a lot with his death, and it only got harder when the launch of the company was approaching.”

“Let’s just say that this time last year, my Christmas was spent nursing a bottle of our finest whisky,” Jamie laughed softly. “I hadn’t written a word since before he died, and the thought of opening the distillery without him,” his throat tightened. “I didn’t want to do it, still can’t believe I’ve done it sometimes.”

“But just think.” Claire ran her fingers lightly through the wiry copper hairs on his chest. “If you hadn’t launched the company, we might never have met.”

“Och, nah, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned and tilted Claire’s chin up to look at him. “Meetin’ ye was always goin’ to happen. I dinna ken if ye believe in fate, but I do. I was always meant to meet ye, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. To love you.”

Claire’s hand cupped his cheek and she pressed her lips lightly against his. “If you believe in fate, then I do too, James Fraser.”

Jamie kissed her again, this time sliding under the covers and laying on his side to face her. His hand found its way into her curls and he held her close against his body. “All that to say, Sassenach, this Christmas is a happier one for me.”

“I’m glad I could play a small part in that,” Claire said softly.

“Ye played all the parts,” Jamie smiled. “The lead part, the background characters — hell, even the wee tree, Claire. Ye’ve made all the difference in my life. Ye’ve made me confident and brave to do the things I never wanted. And because of ye, ye’ve made me a Da and soon a husband. I can’t thank ye enough for it.”

“Oh, Jamie,” Claire’s voice hitched in her throat as she felt tears in her eyes. “This time last year, I was stuck in a loveless relationship with a man that was cheating on me. If there’s anyone that needs thanking, it’s you.”

“This is the first of many Christmases, mo nighean donn, and I plan on spendin’ every one of them wi’ ye.” Jamie kissed her. “That is, if ye’ll have me.”

“I’ll have you for every holiday from here on out,” Claire smiled against his lips.

“Ye ken that I want ye,” Jamie slid his hand down to her waist. “But, wi’ Mads sleepin’ soundly two feet away, I wouldna feel right.”

Claire pressed her hips against him, feeling the evidence of how badly he wanted her, but he was right. Any sounds they made could wake her, and it also felt wrong to have sex next to an innocent baby, even if she would never remember it later on in life.

“You’re probably right,” Claire sighed, her thumb pressing against Jamie’s bottom lip. “We’ll just have to find a moment tomorrow.”

“Ye can count on me findin’ many moments to get ye alone tomorrow,” Jamie nearly growled and kissed her, turning Claire in his arms until her back was against his chest. She fit perfectly against him, and he could feel her heartbeat hammering away. Sometimes, he thought he might break her wi’ how tightly he held her; afraid that if he didn’t hang on to her, she would disappear.

Placing a kiss to the back of her neck, Jamie said goodnight; and when the only response he received was a light snore from Claire, he laughed and shut his eyes on that snowy Christmas Eve.

++++++

Claire woke to the sound of children’s feet running down the hall. It was Christmas morning. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness before rolling over to face the clock: 7 a.m. Not as early as she had predicted the night before.

Surprisingly, Jamie was still in bed — and asleep. Usually, he woke before her, either to go to the gym or go into the office early. Claire rolled onto her stomach and watched him. He had one arm above his head, and the other laying flat on his stomach. Reaching over, Claire plugged his nose with two fingers and he woke with a start.

“Mhac na galla!” he yelped as he sat up in bed, and Claire’s hand flew back. Searching for the culprit of his rude awakening, Jamie’s eyes landed on Claire, who had buried her head into the pillow, pretending to be asleep.

“Sassenach,” he rubbed her back. “Did ye try and kill me in my sleep?”

Claire shook her head, then rolled onto her side laughing. “I was just trying to wake you up, not restart your heart.”

“Next time,” he leaned over her, “ye can wake me wi’ a kiss, although that still takes my breath away.” Jamie pressed his lips against hers, not caring about morning breath, and slid his hand along her hip.

“That is the cheesiest thing I have ever heard, James Fraser,” she snorted. “The kids are already up, their excited shouts of glee woke me up, so we’d better join them.”

“Aye, suppose we should,” Jamie sighed and flopped onto his back. “I have to get my kilt on… tis Christmas.”

Perking up at the word “kilt”, Claire nearly suffocated Jamie as she climbed on top of him, her hands resting on his chest. “Your… kilt?”

“Aye, I told ye that I would wear it today, so if ye’d please get off my chest, I’ll put it on for ye.” Jamie put his hands on her hips and helped to lift her off.

“Can I watch you?” Claire moved to sit on her legs, observingJamie as he pulled out his bright red Fraser tartan kilt from the chest of drawers.

“Nah, maybe another time, because I want to see your reaction for the big reveal,” he smirked. “Go join the others downstairs, it won’t take long.”

Claire pouted her bottom lip, which prompted Jamie to come over and kiss her. “You can help me take it off later, does that sound like a good compromise?”

“Oh yes,” she nearly purred and then snatched up her favorite sweater in the armchair and slid it on. Claire gathered Madeline into her arms before descending the stairs to join the rest of the Murray clan.

The children were all sitting around the tree, sorting the presents into neat little piles. Jenny and Ian both stumbled in from the kitchen, carrying a tray of coffee and cinnamon rolls.

“Merry Christmas,” Claire smiled and sniffed at the air, the delicious smells making her stomach rumble.

“Merry Christmas, Claire.” Jenny kissed her on the cheek before sitting down next to Ian. “Help yerself to the rolls and coffee. Tis a tradition to bake them every Christmas morning.”

“Your own recipe?”

“My Da’s, actually,” Jenny pulled her legs up under her. “Mam was usually the cook, but Da always made these.”

“I can’t wait to try one,” Claire grinned and reached for one, just at the same time she heard footsteps on the stairs. Looking up, she saw him — her Highlander. A string of obscenities ran through her head, but thankfully the only thing that came out of her mouth was, “Oh my God.”

“Have ye never seen him in a kilt?” Ian asked her, trying to hold back a laugh.

“No,” Claire shook her head, her eyes locked onto her tall red-haired Scot. He looked so dashing in his kilt and cream-colored sweater. He wasn’t wearing shoes, just tall black socks. His gaze lingered on Claire, and after the final step, he did a small spin for her, holding his arms out to the side.

“So?”

“Please wear that every single day.” Claire reached out her hand to him. As he sat down next to them, Madeline attempted to crawl into his lap. “It seems I’m not the only girl who approves of the new look.”

“Does Mads think Daddy is handsome?” Jamie said to her, picking her up and kissing her cheek. “And what about Mummy?”

Claire leaned over and kissed his cheek, then whispered into his ear so that only he heard, “That kilt is making me very… wet.”

His cheeks instantly turned pink, and he started coughing as Claire placed her hand on his knee. “Good to hear,” he smirked.

“Enough wi’ the compliments,” Jenny said. “I’m sure the bairns willna wait another minute to open presents.”

They let the children go first, one by one, opening their presents to see what Santa had sent them. Claire never had a big family — no siblings or cousins to spend holidays with. It was heartwarming to be in the room with a cozy fire, a big tree, and joyful children.

Jenny and Ian exchanged their presents next. Claire leaned against Jamie, tucked underneath his arm, and let Madeline play with her hand, sucking lightly on one finger.

“Okay, Sassenach, yer turn,” Jamie looked over at her. She had three presents next to her, two from Jamie and one from Ian and Jenny.

“Which one should I open first?” She ran her eyes over the presents.

“The green one!” Maggie shouted. “That’s from Mam and Da! We helped too!”

“The green one it is then,” Claire smiled and reached for it beside her. She unwrapped to find a beautiful dark green knit scarf with a matching hat and gloves. “Oh, these are so beautiful.”

“I knitted them all,” Jenny said proudly, cradling Kitty in her arms. “The kids helped by staying out of my way long enough so I could.”

“Thank you, Jenny. It’s all perfect! I didn’t even bring a scarf and hat up here!” She folded the scarf on her lap.

The next gift she opened was from Jamie, and she grinned up at him as she ran her hand over the wrapping. Jamie sat beside Claire, nervously watching her unwrap the present. He’d worked so hard on it the past few months, and hoped that she would like it. Finally the last piece of tape was torn off and the book was revealed.

“I Promise To…” by Jamie Fraser.

“Tis not exactly finished, but this is a rough look at what the final product will be,” Jamie said as Claire ran her fingers over the cover. She opened it up and on the first page there was a dedication.

“To my girls, the loves of my life. My Sassenach and my wee lass, I promise to always love you,” Claire read aloud, and looked up at Jamie with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Jamie, you wrote this for us?”

“Aye, I started writing it shortly after we bumped into each other again.” Jamie shifted Madeline on his lap. “Take a look,” he smiled.

Claire flipped past the first page and her face lit up. It was surreal for Jamie to finally see a physical copy of the book, even if it wasn’t quite finished. It was simple, something for parents to read to their children, but it expressed what he felt for his family better than his own words could.

“Who drew these pictures?” Claire asked as she looked through the pages.

His cheeks reddened as Jamie admitted that he had done them himself. “The words were the easy part, the wee drawings… no’ so much.”

“Well, let me see!” Jenny rose from the couch and came to peer over Claire’s shoulder. “It’s not too bad, brother. Yer certainly no Van Gogh, but it has a certain — rugged quality.”

“Rugged?” Jamie asked. “I dinna think that was exactly what I was going for, but thank ye, Janet.”

“It’s wonderful, Jamie.” Claire couldn’t take her eyes away from the book. It meant so much to her that Jamie had taken up writing again and had put all this work into something for her and their daughter. “Is this why you wouldn’t show me what you were writing?”

“Aye,” Jamie bounced a gurgling Madeline on his knee. “I would jot down wee sayings every now and then, but I wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“Well, you surprised me alright,” Claire sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “It’s the best present that I’ve ever received, thank you so much.”

Jamie leaned in and kissed her to the loud “ew’s” and “yucks” of the young children in the room, which motivated him to kiss her even harder. Claire laughed against his mouth and when she pulled back, she pressed her thumb against his mouth.

“Well, my gift is book-related too,” Claire grinned. “Jenny, could you pass me that blue wrapped one just there?” she pointed under the tree.

“Here ya go,” Jenny handed the rectangle-sized wrapped gift to Claire, who handed it to Jamie.

“I’ll take the little miss.” Claire picked up Madeline and rocked her slowly in her arms.

“Hmmm, book-related, ye say?” Jamie raised a brow at her and shook the present gently against his ear. He peeled off the wrapping paper and gasped when he saw what was inside.

“Sassenach, ye didn’t….”

“Yes,” Claire beamed. “I did!”

“Well, tell us what it is, mate,” Ian craned his neck to try and see what it was.

“Ah Dhia, Claire,” Jamie looked from the gift up to Claire, his heart overflowing with such love. “She got me a first edition of The Lord of the Rings trilogy.”

“It took me so long to find the right one,” Claire said. “After you leant me the second book, I looked up to see how much a signed copy would cost and, well...” her eyes widened.

“This must have been expensive, Sassenach. Christ, it’s too much,” Jamie ran his hand over the white cover, with one of the first illustrations ever drawn for the book.

“Jamie read those books more times than I can count,” Jenny said. “I feel like every time I saw him, he had one of those books in his hands. Couldn’t get his attention, even if yer hair was on fire!”

“I love it, a nighean,” Jamie leaned in and kissed her cheek. “This is the most thoughtful gift, too much.” He squinted his eyes at her. “But it’s incredible, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my love,” Claire grinned, pleased that he loved the gift. She had contemplated for weeks on what to get him, still not entirely sure because there was so much she didn’t know about him yet. They learned new things about each other every day.

“Well, those are all the presents. It’ll be a few hours before lunch is sorted,” Jenny said. “Kids, go and play wi’ yer new toys, but stay inside, ye hear?”

“Do you need any help with lunch, Jenny?” Claire asked, taking back Madeline from Jamie.

“Perhaps in an hour or so? It’s still way too early to start doing much of anything,” she sighed.

“I’ll come and find ye when I need ye.”

Jamie stood up and helped to clean up the wrapping paper left behind from the kids. He gathered up his and Claire’s presents and started walking upstairs, with Claire and Madeline behind him.

“Do you think we should have gotten Madeline something more for Christmas?” Claire asked him.

“Och, she’s only three months old, Sassenach. We got her things she willna remember but we'll have use for them,” he chuckled. “Next year, she’ll be a bit more aware of what’s going on.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Claire said as she took a seat in the rocking chair in the corner of their room.

“Are ye goin’ to feed her now?”

“Yes,” she replied, already adjusting her top and cradling Madeline close to her body. “Then I’ll put her down for a nap.”

“When ye’ve done that,” Jamie laid the books down on the bed, “come and find me in the library.”

“I think I can do that,” Claire smiled softly and then bowed her head and began nursing her daughter.

She knew that this Christmas was mostly for them to remember with Madeline, seeing as how she didn’t have the faintest idea of what was going on. Her own earliest memories started sometime when she was around three years old. She was in the car with her parents, and they had the windows down. If she thought hard enough, she could feel the breeze on her skin and the sound of the birds as they drove through town. It was a vague first memory, but it was still her first.

“What will your first memory be, little miss?” Claire cupped her head.

It wasn’t much longer before Madeline was well fed and falling fast asleep as Claire laid her down in the crib. Jamie said to meet him in the library, so that’s exactly what she planned on doing.

He had lit the fire, making the room cozy and inviting. He also brought up two cups of coffee and more cinnamon rolls.

“It smells like absolute heaven in here,” Claire smiled as she came to sit beside Jamie.

“These cinnamon rolls are one of my favorite parts about Christmas,” Jamie said, chewing on a bite of his. “My Da taught me how to make them one year. I suppose I could make them anytime I wanted.”

“But they’re special because they’re only for once a year,” Claire said. “And you can remember your father when you eat them.”

“Aye, that’s true.”

They relaxed back into the sofa, warming up with their coffee. Claire could have fallen right back asleep as she laid her head against Jamie’s shoulder, but he abruptly stood up and crossed the room.

“Alright, Sassenach,” he cleared his throat. “Ye said ye’d help me take this off.” He pointed down at his kilt, and Claire’s belly immediately tightened. In fact, she had nearly forgotten all about that promise.

“But won’t you have to put it back on for lunch?” She bit her lip as she rose from the sofa.

“It’s so hot in here, a nighean,” his hands were on the waistband of the kilt. “I’ll die if ye dinna take it off.”

“Begging now?” She couldn’t help but laugh. They were right back where it all started, the library where their daughter was conceived. Flashes of that evening flitted across her mind — her body pressed against the shelves, Jamie’s hands holding her up.

She stalked forward, her eyes never leaving his, and she finally placed both hands on his belt. Working her right hand on the belt, she slid her left hand to cup his bulge underneath the thick fabric. “Oooo, a true Scotsman?”

“Aye, what did ye expect?” he smirked, and she wanted to push him down to the floor right then and there. Instead, she bent her head and continued to unlatch the belt, finally letting it drop.

“Do you remember what we did in here? Nearly a year ago?” She kept her left hand on his cock, palming it. Jamie groaned, his eyes fluttering as he tried to keep focused.

“How could I forget, Sassenach?” Jamie slid his hands down to her hips then back up, this time inside her sweater and helped to lift it off her. “I thought about that night almost every day for months.”

“You did?” she asked huskily and lifted up his sweater as well, tossing it aside.

“I dreamed of ye,” he whispered. “Of your body against the books, ye crying out my name. I ached wi’ wantin’ to touch ye, Claire.”

About to combust on the spot, Claire wanted to savor this moment. She pressed her bare chest against his and tilted her head up to look at him. “Did you ever touch yourself and think of me?”

“Christ,” he muttered, and his hands moved on their own volition down to cup her arse, kneading the firm flesh. “A few times,” he admitted sheepishly.

“I did too.” She pressed a kiss to his chest, just where the auburn wiry hairs were. “I dreamed of you, of your hands touching me. I wanted you, Jamie…”

“Do ye want me now?” His eyes were searching her face, wanting to memorize the way she was looking at him.

“God yes,” she moaned and then closed the distance between them, crashing her mouth to his. Their hands worked in tandem to get rid of the barriers between them. Claire’s tights proved a bit more difficult to get off than they both wanted, and as Jamie started to take the kilt off, Claire stopped him.

“Keep it on,” she breathed heavily. “Please.”

“As ye say,” he chuckled. Claire slid her hands up along his thigh and pushed the material up around his abdomen. His cock jutted out and up, that one long delicious vein throbbing. If she wasn’t so wet and ready for him, she would have dropped to her knees, her head underneath his kilt. But Jamie was ready too, that much was obvious, and he grabbed one of her legs and hitched it up.

“I could do this a thousand times and never tire of bein’ inside ye,” he muttered against her lips.

“You say such ridiculous things,” she sighed and then moaned as he entered her. Bracing her hands against his chest, she clung to him as he lifted her other leg off the ground and began to bounce her on his cock. Thankfully, Jamie was strong and could hold her up. Their bodies were as close as they could get and Claire kissed him hungrily as he thrust upwards.

It was almost too much, the feeling of him at this angle. Her world spun and her back was pressed against the cold wood of the bookshelves. She laughed against his mouth — they were repeating history. Jamie dotted her cheeks and neck with kisses before sucking on the skin just above her breast. His hands held her hips steady as he pumped into her, filling her and opening her up. The kilt pressed against her stomach, scratchy but not unwelcome. The power of Jamie’s thrusts made the shelves shake behind them.

“Lay down,” Claire managed to get out. Jamie reluctantly removed his mouth from her chest long enough to lay back down on the floor near the fire. They were both reaching the point of being completely spent, their bodies coated in a fine layer of sweat.

Reaching her hands down, Claire anchored herself on Jamie and then started to grind her hips in a figure eight movement.

“Jesus,” he muttered and shut his eyes tightly. He moved his hand to rest at the place of their joining, his fingers circling on that little bundle of nerves that made Claire squeak. Her breath became shallow and her body started to jerk above him.

“I’ve got ye, a nighean,” he groaned and watched as she fell apart; and seconds later, Jamie came, his back arching off the floor. Claire fell onto his chest, pressing her clammy cheek against him.

His hands came to rest on her back, softly stroking as they both came down from their high of love making. “I don’t want to move,” he said quietly.

“We could stay like this for a thousand years,” Claire replied.

“And it still wouldn’t be long enough,” Jamie said and pushed her curly hair off of her forehead. She turned her face and rested her chin on his chest. “Merry Christmas, Sassenach.”

“Merry Christmas, Jamie,” she grinned.

Chapter 25: A Meeting

#the oath #outlander #outlander fanfic #chapter 24 #all i want for christmas #outlander fanfiction #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie and claire fraser

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anoutlandishfanfic · 7 years ago

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Metamorphosis, Ch. Sixteen: Lallybroch

Metamorphosis FLUUUUUFFF!!! This chapter is all sorts of feelsy, this time of the warm fuzzy sort. Jamie and Claire have traveled to Lallybroch after the witch trial at Cranesmuir and the following unfolds!

I know I said this would post Monday, but I can’t wait. I didin’t think you’d mind.

You can find previous chapters here on tumblr or over at AO3.

In which Odysseus returns home, disguised as a beggar.

I smiled at the memory of Jamie’s muttered Greek as I sat down on a wooden bench and I looked at my own bare feet, finding I fit the description perfectly.

Our arrival at Lallybroch had been far from triumphant, however heartfelt it had started out, and was something neither of us would have envisioned. We were both considerably worse for wear and bedraggled when we passed through the arched gateway, each showing the week of travel it had taken to get here. Jamie’s clothing at least resembled something a respectable person would wear, meanwhile I was dressed in his spare shirt with his plaid gathered about my shoulders and belted at my waist… or what was left of my waist.

The pack of dogs that had greeted us disbanded once Jamie and Jenny took their quarrel within, leaving me to find an uninhabited courtyard when I sought fresh air a few moments later. My morning sickness still came and when as it wished, but I’d found being out of doors helped, as much as anything could. Leaning my head back against the smooth stone of Lallybroch’s walls, I let the warm autumn sun slowly warm my face as I focused on taking deep, even breaths. I caught a whiff of the dovecote, which was unfortunately upwind of me, and lost what little control I had over my stomach.

A deep Scottish mmhmm of sympathy followed the sound of someone sitting next to me and made me wish I could crawl underneath the bench and hide.

What a way to meet your in-laws, Beauchamp, ralphing in their rose bushes.

Wiping my face on the hem of my skirt, I braced myself and sat upright, ready to face whomever had joined me. I found a decent looking chap about the same age as Jamie sitting next to me with a sort of grimace on his face and a gleam of amusement in his eye.

“Bairns have a way of doin’ that, aye?” He accurately stated, “Kickin’ ye when you’re down?”

I nodded, not quite capable of speech just yet. My hand instinctively went to the now very obvious swell just above my hips, reverently cradling the life within, as I fought another swell of nausea.

“My wife was ill with our first, but we’ve been blessed with a reprieve wi’ this one,” he continued, not minding my silence. “She mebbe wouldna tell ye so, what wi’ the bairn bein’ so close, but saints be praised just the same.”

He offered me the warmest of smiles and I couldn’t help trying to return it as I inquired, “Your wife is with child, then?”

Before he could answer, the wind changed and pushed a few barbed comments from within our way, most indistinguishable, but Jenny’s voice rang out clear for a brief moment.

“... and wi’ ye struttin’ home, proud as a peacock wi’ yer trollop! How dare ye suggest such a thing when ye ken the bairn she carries isna yours?!”

Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, would Laoghaire’s lies never end?

A smile of amusement tugged at my companion’s lips as he easily nodded towards the house, “Jamie’s home then… and I imagine ye’ll be…”

“The trollop,” I finished for him, “otherwise known as Claire Fraser.”

He laughed outright at this before introducing himself, “I’m Ian Murray, Jenny’s husband.”

“So, you’d heard of it then?”

“Oh, aye. Ye canna keep anything a secret long in the Highlands,” he looked back to the window where the argument had risen in severity. “Better give them a few minutes longer… Frasers canna listen to anythin’ when they’ve their dander up. When they’ve shouted themselves out, then ye can make them see reason, but no’ til then.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” I commented dryly.

Ian grinned unashamedly, “Ye’ve been married long enough to figure that out, eh?”

…

“Just how far along are ye, then?” Jenny inquired from behind the bed sheet she was pulling from the clothesline.

I stared blankly at the flowing, white linen, trying to figure out what day it was. “This is, what, the last week of October?”

“Well into the first week of November, lass,” my sister in law chuckled. “Today’s the fifth.”

“Then almost five months,” I sighed.

Her face appeared above the sheet, more than a little surprised, “Truly?”

“Our wedding was the fifteenth of June, so, yes that would be…” my chin rose as I quickly counted, “four months and twenty five days, to be exact.”

“Aye, I didna mean that dinna believe ye! Jamie cleared the air of the rumors we’ve heard of ye, to be sure.”

The ever present rock began to sink in the pit of my stomach. Just what exactly had they heard? What tales had been spun about my flight from the trial? Obviously, Laoghaire’s claim that the baby wasn’t Jamie’s had reached Lallybroch, but what else had?

“But,” Jenny’s voice nipped the budding questions before they could bloom into anxiety’s fragile flower, “tis only that ye look… closer than that.”

Another sigh left my lips, heavier this time, and I confessed to the first person outside of my husband, “The midwife at Leoch says its twins.”

“Twins?” She dropped the now folded sheet into the basket at her feet with a succinct plop as she muttered, “Mother, Michael, and Bride protect ye.”

My fingers found the jet beads amid the folds of fabric. I hadn’t taken it off since Jamie’s thrown them at me and I wasn’t sure when — or if — I ever would.

May they indeed.

...

The master bedroom had been hastily vacated for us, Jenny and Ian’s things moved from their places to a new room in short order, leaving Jamie and I alone to try to wrap our heads around the fact that we were really here.

Jamie loosened the belt about my waist and I sighed with contentment as he slid the plaid from my shoulders, pushing my skirt to the floor. He swept me up into his arms, his eyes hooded with a mixture of desire and fatigue. Slowly, he moved us towards the bed, lowering me down onto it and crawling in beside me. I sank gleefully into the feather mattress as the muscles my lower back and hips proclaimed their thanks.

“Welcome home, Lady Broch Turach,” he murmured, his voice low and sensual.

The lives within me jumped and tumbled with joy, expressing the same growing sense of relief that I felt.

“They know they’re home,” I pulled his hands to the place, catching my breath as they almost immediately stilled at his touch, as if in awe of their father’s presence. Squeezing his hand gently I urged, “Talk to them, they hear you.”

Jamie looked up at me, his mouth open in surprise, his eyes shining in the low light. He swallowed hard, “They can?”

“Yes,” I nodded, bringing my other hand to frame his face. “They know it’s you.”

He bent his head, his lips brushing against the almost translucent fabric of my shift. His hands traveled the curve of my belly, caressing and cradling his children.

“Oidhche mhath, mo bheannachdan.”

They moved again, pushing against his hand in an urgent manner that brought me to tears. My hand slid through the soft curls at the nape of Jamie’s neck as I cried tears of joy, of hope.

“Mo chridhe?”

Jamie brought his face close to mine, shifting so that he could take me into his arms. I clung to him and let my tears fall, even as I smiled through them.

“I love you,” I whispered, speaking the words aloud for the first time.

His gaze melted, his eyes brimming with an affectionate moisture of his own, “Ach, Claire… how I love ye.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #Metamorphosis AU #chapter sixteen #lallybroch

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