#Fraser Wedding Anniversary

[ltbkpod]

Episode Fanfic Reference

Here is a link to every fic we've discussed on the pod:

Ep 1 - Stucky: Mistake on the Part of Nature by idiopathicsmile

Ep 2 - FinnPoe: the coat thief by Gretahs

Ep 3 - LOTR: Cabbages and Kings by Mickleditch (Merry/Pippen)

Ep 3 - LOTR: Finding Comfort by scarletjedi (Gimli/Legolas)

Ep 3 - LOTR: On the Cold Hill Side by marycrawford (Gimli/Legolas)

Ep 3 - LOTR: Lords of Misrule by FabulaRasa (Gimli/Legolas)

Ep 4 - Ineffable Husbands: i'd like for you and i to go romancing by dollsome

Ep 5 - Grindeldore: Relationship Counselling by Anonymous

Ep 6 - Hannigram: La Maison Rouge by Randstad

Ep 7 - JohnLock: The Internet Is Not Just For Porn by cyerus

Ep 9 - Cherik: Order Up by ikeracity

Ep 10 - Leverage OT3: your body is a war zone but you are not a ruin by postcardmystery

Ep 10 - Leverage OT3: the warmth of your doorways by gyzym

Ep 10 - Leverage OT3: safe as houses by thecanaryfalls

Ep 10 - Leverage OT3: The Not Your Teaching Tool Job by BlackEyedGirl

Ep 11 - 00Q: Synchronicity by stereobone

Ep 13 - Sterek: Lock All The Doors Behind You by entanglednow

Ep 14 - Comedies: Anniversary by Desdemon (Nick/Schmidt)

Ep 14 - Comedies: My Gay Jungle Fever by typicrobots (JD/Turk)

Ep 15 - McDanno: Love's a Battlefield (and the Navy Did Not Train Steve for This Shit) by cyerus

Ep 16 - Kirk/Spock: Translating Ennoia by WerewolvesAreReal

Ep 17 - Buddie: a leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things

Ep 18 - Nygmobblepot: flowers grow out of my grave (grave, grave) by CallicoKitten

Ep 19 - Starsky/Hutch: Blue by molo (esteefee)

Ep 20 - 80s Action Movies: My Word Is My Bond (But So Are These Handcuffs) by SirRobin126 (Midnight Run)

Ep 20 - 80s Action Movies: Probably Safer Together and Fabulous Face by fakebodies (Thunderbolt and Lightfoot)

Ep 21-24 - Destiel: Dean Doesn't Listen to Eurythmics by Annie D (scaramouche)

Ep 21-24 - Destiel: things happen (they do, they do, and they do) by sobsicles

Ep 21-24 - Destiel: according to all known laws of life by sobsicles

Ep 26 - SamBucky: warm blood (feels good, i can't control it anymore) by notcaycepollard

Ep 26 - SamBucky: just won't do right by glittercake

Ep 27 - Loki/Mobius: Compliments? That's suspicious by Ijustlikereadingcutefics

Ep 28 - Top Gun: people like us. by Skyuni123 (Rooster/Hangman, Iceman/Maverick)

Ep 28 - Top Gun: Men Like Us by DancingDisaster (Rooster/Hangman, Iceman/Maverick)

Ep 29 - Blackbeard/Stede: Close Quarters by FortinbrasFTW

Ep 31 - Cowboys: Northward Drive by Keiko Kirin (sakana17) (Red River)

Ep 31 - Cowboys: Blood and Whiskey by astolat (Tombstone)

Ep 32 - Kirk/Spock Kelvin: The Genetic Soap Opera (or, One of the Less Dignified Royal Weddings) by waketosleep

Ep 32 - Kirk/Spock Kelvin: a sequence that you never learned by annataylor

Ep 33 - Black Sails: Nature's Delight by Fyre (Flint/Thomas)

Ep 33 - Black Sails: Until death it is all life. by Craftnarok (Flint/Silver)

Ep 34 - Captain Marvel/Maria Rambeau: flying homeward down your highway by gdgdbaby

Ep 35 - Leverage ot3: the war outside our door keeps raging on by spinninginfinity

Ep 35 - Loki/Mobius: out of focus/eye to eye by markofalover

Ep 35 - BlackBonnet: Impulsivity and Authenticity by Skrifores

Ep 35 - Ineffable Husbands: Drinking Buddies and Diaries by dove_dove

Ep 36 - Due South: Locked Room Puzzle by Speranza (Fraser/RayK)

Ep 36 - Due South: All We Gotta Do is Be Brave and Be Kind by spuffyduds (Fraser/RayV)

[renee-writer]

Tiny Beautiful Things Chapter 29

AO3

“Frank!” She says. Her new husband hears her. His eyes narrow. Jenny’s moans grow louder and someone says, ‘ Ring 811.’ All this is secondary to Jamie. A part of his mind catalogues that Jenny is in labor. The biggest  part though is focused on the unwelcome guest.

 

“HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE!” He thunders, stepping forward. Lamb is doing the same.

 

“I came to wish the bride good fortune and to give her a kiss.”  He flatly states. It is a mistake.

 

They are both on him, fists out. It is a life saving thing that Jamie forgets he is armed with a sword.

 

They work him outside, working him over, with him, only occasionally making contact with one of them.

 

“Hold up Claire!” Geillis runs after her. “Let them handle it.”

 

She is in to blind a rage to listen. How bloody dare he show up like this! Intruding on her wedding! She will show him.

 

The melee enters the area where the reception is set up. She comes up to them just as a fleeing Frank knocks into the cake. It partially topples, landing on him. The next thing to land on him is Claire’s bouquet.

 

She is landing curses with every swing, the broken flowers landing on the broken cake on the broken man.  Her husband’s arms come around her.

 

“Shh, my darling, be still now. I’ve you. It is alright.” She turns, fallen in his arms.

 

“He ruined everything!” she is sobbing. Behind them, the police, called out when the medics were, are assisting Lamb with lifting up Frank. They will secure him until the Fraser’s decide whether to press trespassing charges.

 

“Nothing is ruined. We are married. That is all that matters. That and that our nephew is on the way.”

 

Her sobs cease and she lifts her head. “Jenny! Oh, we need to check on her.”

 

“Take him away. My wife,” how proudly he says it, “has a no contact order against him. Press whatever charges are necessary.” He leads her away.

 

They are just in time to witness the birth of James Ian Brian Murray. The lad is born in the Great Room/ wedding chapel.

 

“In a hurry, he was.” Jenny holds her son, smiling down on him.  They have rescheduled the reception, with all that happened. Now the family gets to know Wee Jamie in peace.

 

“Aye, his birthday will help me to recall my anniversary.” His uncle says. His new wife laughs.

 

“You better never forget it.”

 

“Aye, you best not,” the new father adds, “it is an almost unforgivable sin.”

 

“What happened to fracking Frank?” Geillis self censors in the presence of the baby.

 

“He is being charged with trespassing and violation of a protection order. He should go away for awhile.” Claire answers. She can’t take her eyes off her little nephew. He is the sweetest thing.

 

“Good! The nerve of…” She stops, “No negative talk. This is a happy and blessed time.”

 

Later, as the new family rests, Claire cuddles against her husband. “I want one.”  She tells him.

 

“I think I can manage that.” He leads her to bed.

[walkinginland]

one line, any fic

rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! Then tag 10 people my brain is pudding and idk who hasn’t done this yet SO if you want to share some lines go for it! consider yourself tagged.

i have so many random snippets of wips, i threw in two of those that I hope to work on some this year :)

thank you for the tag @flyinghome-againstthewind!!!! 😘

Sunlight (the song of achilles)

“Good morning.” He cocked his head to the side, peering up at Patroclus. “What had you so deep in thought so early?”

Patroclus tried to cover over his private dark musings, tried to distract Achilles by laying kisses across his high cheekbone, rubbing his nose gently down Achilles’ as he kissed his way to the line of his jaw.

“I’ve no idea what you’re speaking of,” he murmured to the skin under his ear. He felt Achilles grip his hair again, pulling him back up to meet his eyes.

does heaven have enough angels yet (outlander)

She really is only stopping here for a while before she goes somewhere else. She can hear her name being called, she knows it’s time for her to go, she’s already stayed too long. This isn’t her place; it never really was. She was only here to bring some hope, some faith, some joy, some healing for a little while.

Grievances Raised (outlander)

“I’ll remind you darling, that it was your idea. You have no one to blame but yourself.” She poked him in the chest as she nestled comfortably into his side.

Find a Little Remedy (outlander)

“Go on then, lovie,” she said as she leaned against the sill. “Show me how you dance this one and I’ll join you for the next one, alright?” She was feeling oddly fragile today, vulnerable in a way that she was usually able to keep close in her chest. She wasn’t sure why, exactly; it was no anniversary today, no date with meaning. But as the years passed by, she was realizing that spring and early summer simply felt… tender to her. Too many dates in those months, days of separation and days of birth and wedding days.

To Heart and Home (outlander)

But everyday spent with Brianna underfoot made it increasingly more difficult to distract himself from his grief. The blacksmith wasn’t wrong; there was something about the wee lass that reminded him daily of what could have been if so many things had not gone so wrong.

Practicing rows of letters. Skinned knees. Prayers before bed. A kiss on the cheek.

The fact of the matter was that the threads of grief and joy woven deep in his heart were becoming too strongly entwined for him to separate.

I Would Not Ask (outlander)

That first night lived vividly in Jamie’s mind. Whispered introductions of two familiar lovers not-yet-met and yet fitting together as they had always been intended to.

into the empty parts of me (outlander)

Their eyes met over their mirrored hands, in echoed remembrance of that same shared touch.

return my fists to fingers (the last binding trilogy)

Edwin slowly started working a spell, one hand still clasped in Robin’s, the other moving carefully string-less through the small pocket of air between them. Robin didn’t know how much time passed before Edwin brought his cool hand, tingling with magic, to join their already clasped fists and gentling Robin’s shaking fingers between his own.

For Where You Go (very old outlander au wip that I think i want to dust off and work on this year)

They hoped to find a safe place to settle on lands that once belonged to the Fraser clan. Despite the clearances that had ravaged the country and destroyed the clan system, family was still important above all. Ellen believed that her husband’s relatives would remember that, despite their long absence. Claire could only hope she was right.

The world was not a kind place for a pair of widows alone.

untitled Percy Jackson wip that i would also like to finish at some point

This was her favorite way to hold him. From the moment that he had placed her hand on his back, whispering a secret so massive, so earth-shaking, into the space between them, she had needed to hold onto him, onto this, as tight and closely as she could. He had put his life in her hands and she hadn’t let go since.

It’s been years since that day.

[capoteera]

But how do yall know he will be in Greece in September? Not a shabby place to celebrate your first wedding anniversary!

/ He will be filming his movie there

He’s filming the movie with Brendan Fraser there

[shaanlimousineservice]

Luxury and Convenience Redefined: Exploring Limousine Services in Mission, BC

Introduction:

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Discovering Limousine Services in Mission, BC:

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As environmental consciousness continues to grow, some limousine services in Mission have taken steps to reduce their carbon footprint. By incorporating eco-friendly practices such as fuel-efficient vehicles and carbon offset programs, they showcase a commitment to sustainability while preserving the essence of luxury travel.

For more info:-

Surrey Limo Service

Abbotsford Limo

[sosimsofmaddi]

Table of Contents

Table of Contents Part II Link

Geroux Family Tree 

Young Reese and Kelley

Introduction to the Family

Roxana Appears in Moonwood

Meeting Gunnar (Summary)

Reese & Gunnar Meet (Full Scene)

The Shed - Wolf Lingering

Lycanthrope Hierarchies

Shifting Together

Reese's New Job / Ultimatum

Kelley Sick - Roxana sees Gunnar

Reese & Gunnar Make Up

Kelley Meets Gunnar

Fences & Feelings

Logging Company

Gunnar Shifts in Front of Kelley

Gunnar Missing - First kiss

Logging company plot - start tearing down trees

Gunner Explains Mates

Roxana learns about Reese's feelings

Reese goes to find Roxie and meets her brothers. Reese realizes that and wants to make an effort to keep Roxana in her life.

Gunnar and Roxie Fight

ADD

ADD

Pregnant

Tell Roxana about Soulmates / Mating Bond

Reese & Roxie Fight

Wildfang Suspicion (& Young Reese and Kelley)

Gunnar and Roxana’s Bad Relationship 

Cub Incoming Part I

Cub Incoming Part II

New House

Gunnar Exiled

Twins' Infant Milestones

Wildfangs ask about Fraser Company (Warner & Takoda)

Twins Birthday (Age to toddlers)

Logging Company Accident

Kelley training

Wedding

Warner's Pack Request to Gunnar

Leikos Pack

Kelley's Birthday (age to teen)

Twins' Birthday (age to kids)

Shilo & Rio born

House renovations

Gunnar's Evolution

Roxana's Adult Life

Reese & Gunnar In Love

Reese & Roxana Parallel

Reese & Gunnar Anniversary Pictures

Rio & Shilo Infant Milestones

Rio & Shilo Birthday (age to toddlers)

Current Kids Ages

Leikos Pack & Wildfangs (tension)

Recessive Lycanthrope Gene - Juneau Age Up

Roxana finds out about recessive gene

Table of contents part two

Table of Contents Part II Link

Editable Part II Link

[themusicsweetly]

“What’s this?” I ran my hand curiously over the box.

“Oh, only a wee present.” He didn’t look at me, but the tips of his ears were pink. “Open it, hm?”

It was a heavy box, both wide and deep. Carved of a dense, fine-grained dark wood, it bore the marks of heavy use -- nicks and dents that had seasoned but not impaired its polished beauty. It was hasped for a lock, but there was none; the lid rose easily on oiled brass hinges, and a whiff of camphor floated out, vaporous as a jinn.

The instruments gleamed under the smoky sun, bright despite a hazing of disuse. Each had it’s own pocket, carefully fitted and lined in green velvet.

A small, heavy-toothed saw; scissors, three scalpels -- round-bladed, straight-bladed, scoop-bladed; the silver blade of a tongue depressor, a tenaculum...

“Jamie!” Delighted, I lifted out a short ebony rod, to the end of which was affixed a call of worsted, wrapped in rather moth-eaten velvet. I’d seen one before, at Versailles; the eighteenth-century version of a reflex hammer. “Oh, Jamie! How wonderful!”

He wiggled his feet, pleased.

“Oh, ye like it?”

“I love it! Oh, look -- there’s more in the lid, under this flap--” I stared for a moment at the disjointed tubes, screws, platforms and mirrors, until my mind’s eye shuffled them and presented me with the neatly assembled vision.

“A microscope!’ I touched it reverently. “My God, a microscope.”

“There’s more,” he pointed out, eager to show me. “The front opens and there are wee drawers inside.”

There were -- containing, among other things, a miniature balance and set of brass weights, a tile for rolling pills, and a stained marble mortar, its pestle wrapped in cloth to prevent it being cracked in transit. Inside the front, above the drawers, were rows upon rows of small corked bottles made of stone or glass.

“Oh, they’re beautiful!” I said, handling the small scalpel with reverence. The polished wood of the handle fit my hand as though it had been made for me, the blade weighted to an exquisite balance. “Oh, Jamie, thank you!”

“Ye like them, then?” His ears had gone bright red with pleasure. “I thought they’d maybe do. I’ve no notion what they’re meant for, but I could see they were finely made.”

I had no notion what some of the pieces were meant for, but all of them were beautiful in themselves; made by or for a man who loved his tools and what they did. [...]

“It’s a wonderful gift. However did you find it?”

He smiled then, in return. The sun blazed low, a brilliant orange ball glimpsed briefly through dark treetops.

“I’d seen the box when I went to the goldsmith’s shop -- it was the goldsmith’s wife who’d kept it. Then I went back yesterday, meaning to buy yet a bit of jewelry -- maybe a brooch -- and whilst the goodwife was showing me the gauds, we happened to speak of this and that, and she told me of the Doctor, and--” He shrugged.

“Why did you want to buy me jewelry?” I looked at him, puzzled. The sale of the ruby had left us with a bit of money, but extravagance was not at all like him, and under the circumstances--

“Oh! To make up for sending all the money to Laoghaire? I didn’t mind; I said I didn’t.”

He had -- with some reluctance -- arranged to send the bulk of the proceeds from the sale of the stone to Scotland, in payment of a promise made to Laoghaire MacKenzie -- damn her eyes -- Fraser, whom he had married at his sister’s persuasion while under the logical impression that if I was no dead, I was at least not coming back. My apparent resurrection from the dead had caused any amount of complications, Laoghaire not least among them.

“Aye, ye said so,” he said, openly cynical.

“I meant it-- more or less,” I said, and laughed. “You couldn’t very well let the beastly woman starve to death, appealing as the idea is.”

He smiled, faintly.

“No, I shouldna like to have that on my conscience; there’s enough without. But that’s not why I wished to buy yet a present.”

“Why then?” The box was heavy; a gracious, substantial, satisfying weight across my legs, its wood a delight under my hands. He turned his head to look full at me, then, his hair fire-struck with the setting sun, face dark in silhouette.

“Twenty-four years ago today,  I  m a r r i e d  y e , Sassenach,” he said softly. “I hope ye willna have cause yet to regret it.”

~ Drums of Autumn, chapter 8, “Man of Worth”

[mrspeetamellark]

Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone

I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One

I give ye my Spirit, til our life shall be done

-Outlander, the wedding

[avasetocallmyown]

“When you kissed me like that, well, maybe you weren't so sorry to be marrying me after all.”    𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴  ∞  𝘀𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬, 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟰

[ashmarie1687]

Happy Anniversary!!

Happy 277th wedding anniversary to Jamie and Claire Fraser, married 16 June 1743. ✨ 🎊

[caitrionabalfestanclub]

Cait and Tony's wedding anniversary is coming up! I know she probably won't but I wish she would mention something about it on the day. What do you think?

I know and how sweet that they get to celebrate together because they’ll be home!!

I don’t think she will honestly though. Too many trolls that would ruin whatever she’d post. Unless she does something ambiguous that she thinks people won’t catch onto 😂

[jemscorner]

one night . . . three moments

I give Ye my Body, that we Two might be One.

I give ye my Spirit, ‘til our Life shall be Done.

~ Happy Outlander Wedding Anniversary ~

[scapegrace74-blog]

New Ways of Turning Into Stone, Chapter 7

A/N  For anyone waiting patiently for this chapter, I apologize.  Somewhere in the midst of writing this story, I fell out of love with it, making it very hard to find the inspiration to finish. I’m too stubborn to abandon it, though, so here is the final chapter.  The good news is the angst fest is over, for the most part.  Slight reference to child trafficking in the past.  Thanks to everyone who read and interacted with this story!  This final chapter is entitled A Dragonfly in Amber.

The whole story can be found on my A03 page.

Eighteen Months Later

The breeze off the firth was picking up, and Claire wished she’d grabbed a  jumper before leaving her flat.  She spent a lot of time these days looking back at the million decisions that made up a life, aware of their path as though they were footprints visible to the eye.  Where once missteps would have inspired judgement or shame, she could now chart their passage with a certain measure of peace.

A rare free Thursday brought her to a seasonal market in what was otherwise a car park overlooking Edinburgh Castle.  With no specific objective in mind, she wandered the stalls of fresh produce and locally made crafts, meandering but purposeful.  A jar of raw honey and a half-dozen blueberry scones made their way into her tote bag before she stopped at a store selling beautifully woven woolen goods, thinking that she could perhaps invest in a shawl.

Lifting the various offerings from where they were displayed, something caught her eye.  Beneath the many-patterned pile of wool stood a beautiful wooden chest, its heft and patina speaking of its craftsmanship.   It had been painted in a rusted umber, the shape of a dragonfly elegantly carved into its solid lid.

“Tis lovely, is it no’?” a soft lilt startled her from her trance.

“Yes, very.  Is it for sale?”  She had no idea why she’d asked.  Her flat was crowded enough as it was and frivolous purchases no longer within her budget.

“Alas, no.  Twas an anniversary gift from my man.”  Perhaps seeing the disappointment register on her face, the woman added, “I can give ye the card o’ the man who made it, at least.  Ye’re no’ the first tae have admired his work.”

Claire’s hands shook slightly as the shopkeeper sought out the card, an eerie sense of premonition settling over her.  Sure enough, the familiar names leapt into relief as she accepted the woman’s offering:

Lallybroch Furniture Design

James Fraser, Proprietor

***

The afternoon and evening passed in a blur of obligations and routine.  It was only as she settled into the peace of her own bedroom that Claire allowed her thoughts to return to the business card tucked safely into her wallet.  

She’d known Jamie was still in the city.  While she’d resisted the urge to seek him out a thousand times, she couldn’t stop herself from searching his name on the Internet.  A harmless indulgence, she rationalized, and one that assured her that he was well, his business going from strength to strength. Despite the capitol’s tight-knit community, however, their paths had never crossed.  Until now.

Was it a sign?  Long Ago Claire paid no heed to such foolishness, but that was before a chance encounter spun her life one hundred and eighty degrees, sending her down a brand new path.  Now she accepted these memos from the universe with humility.  Tomorrow, she would go looking for Jamie Fraser.

***

Jamie heard the jingle of the bells above the door, even over the mechanical whirr of his sander.  Unbending and blowing a sweaty curl off his forehead, he admired the intricate scrollwork of the custom hutch that was his latest commission.  It still amazed him to watch his visions take shape before his eyes.  If life hadn’t slapped him hard across the face, knocking him far off course, he might have spent the rest of his days unaware of the gift that resided between his hands.

“Took ye long enough, Geordie,” he called out to the footsteps approaching from the door.  “Where’d ye go fer the varnish, Glasgow?”

There was a pause, and an eerie sense of premonition settled over him.  Today was going to be the day.

“It’s not Geordie, it’s me.  Claire.”  He’d thought of her voice each day for the past eighteen months, and yet he hadn’t been able to summon its exact timbre: sonorous, precise, with a smoky finish like well-aged whisky.

“Claire,” he replied to the universe, summoning her by name before he even turned around.

Sawdust motes danced in a sunbeam descending from a clerestory window, illuminating the mahogany in her curls.  She was everything he remembered, and so much more.  The nacre of her skin, now dusted with cinnamon freckles.  The topaz of her eyes less fierce, more open, and overwhelmingly anxious.  The tight line of her jaw was less defined, her once whippet-thin figure filled out into plush curves.  Overall the impression was one of softness, of willing vulnerability.

“The door was open,” she explained needlessly, her eyes drinking him in hungrily.  He wondered what changes she read on his surface.

“It’s... uhhh...” his voice wobbled painfully, “it’s good tae see ye, Sassenach.  How have ye been?”

He hadn’t trusted himself to seek her out since Maggie’s death, understanding that they both needed time to heal.  It didn’t stop him from zeroing in on every glimpse of brown curls, nor from reading wedding announcements with an invisible fist gripping his throat.  If it was meant to be, he counselled himself, they would find one another when the time was right.  And now she was here, standing in his workshop and more lovely than his zealous imaginings.

“Good,” she replied, eyes meeting and then sheering away from his gaze.  “Really good.  Busy.”  She was gripping the strap of her handbag like a parachute cord, and he couldn’t help glancing at her left hand, selfishly relieved to note it was still bare.

“I, ummm, I saw one of your pieces.  At the market yesterday.  Not for sale, of course.  The woman offered me your card, so I thought, you know, that I might...  You’re really very talented, Jamie,” she prattled nervously.

He blushed, delighted by her praise.  “I thank ye, Claire.”  To taste her name in his mouth, so long forbidden, was intoxicating.  He would never tire of saying it.

“And yer work?  Tis Friday.  Are ye taking a well-deserved day off?”

“Oh, no.  I’m not practicing anymore, Jamie.”

He froze, horrified.  Of all the scenarios he’d played out in his mind, he’d never imagined her anything but a doctor. It was too much a part of who she was.  A familiar sense of oppressive responsibility crept over him.  If he’d somehow caused this to happen...

“Sassenach, no...” he whispered.

To his utter confusion, she laughed, merry and bright as the bells that had announced her return to his life.

“It’s alright, truly.  I, well, a lot has changed since last year,” she explained, a glimmer of something coy transforming her face.  His wame sunk into his feet.

“Ye’ve met someone.”   A statement of fact.  Punishment for wishing for something that wasn’t meant to be.

Her spritely laugh rang out again, increasing his pain.  He felt the old, habitual hardening around his heart, and fought to keep his breath steady.  No matter how much it hurt, he owed it to Claire to listen to her joy.

“In a manner of speaking.  His name is Fergus, and he’s eight years old.”

Startled, he stared into her upturned face, trying to read the truth in her features.  A hand, delicate but strong, took his own.  He held onto it like a lifeline as she told her unlikely tale.

Shortly after their last meeting, Claire had been walking through Grassmarket when she’d been jostled by a running figure.  It was only upon righting herself that she realized she was without her phone.   Giving chase, she eventually cornered the thief down a blind alley, only to realize that it was a young boy, unkempt and malnourished.

Rather than turn the pickpocket in, Claire had negotiated an exchange: her phone for a four-course meal and the story of how a boy of his age, with a heavy French accent no less, had come to live on the streets of Edinburgh.

“He was trafficked, Jamie.  A group in Paris were keeping him and other orphans in a brothel.  When they came to transport them, Fergus escaped.  He hid in a lorry, and this is where it brought him.  He had no coat, no money, hardly any English, but he’d been surviving on his wits for six weeks before I found him.  I can’t bear to think what might have happened to him had we not crossed paths that winter’s day.”

“Christ,” he swore, thinking of his own nephew, and what he wouldn’t give to protect the lad’s innocence.

Claire went on to describe the painstaking process of reporting Fergus, whose real name was Claudel, to the authorities without allowing him to be deported back to France and into the waiting hands of the very people he had escaped.

“There was no formal steps to follow, no real resources I could rely on.  I ended up filing for adoption, because it was the only way to keep him safe.  In the beginning, he needed all my attention.  He had no formal schooling and had to learn English in a hurry.  He suffered from terrible nightmares.  I transferred all my patients, shut down the office, but I assumed it was only temporary, until he felt more secure and could go to school with other kids his age.  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Fergus isn’t the only trafficked child in Scotland.  I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do whatever I could to protect every one of them.  So I quit.  I’d made some contacts at ECPAT in London, trying to sort out the mess with Fergus’ immigration paperwork.   I called them up and offered my services on a part-time basis.  A former pediatrician with experience in grief counselling.  They couldn’t accept fast enough.  So now, when I’m not busy being Fergus’ mom, I’m the executive director of ECPAT here in Scotland.”

“Christ,” he repeated.  “Sassenach, I’m...  God, ye’re an amazing woman.”

It was her turn to blush, glancing down to notice that their hands were still clasped, fingers woven together like thirsty roots.  They were standing toe to toe, breathing in harmony.  Jamie smelled of pine, a sharp sweetness that seemed to cling to his body.  She dared a look upwards and found his gaze locked on her mouth.  Oceans stormed in the depths of his eyes.

“You’ve got a little...” she reached for his jaw, “...a little something, right here...”  Before she could dislodge the fleck of sawdust trapped in his auburn stubble, Jamie’s whole body surged forward, their noses practically bumping.

“Sassenach...” he beseeched.

“Yes?”  Wispy, fluttering wings of hope surrounded her.

“I’ve bided as long as I can.  May I please, for the love of all tha’s holy, finally kiss ye?”

A tiny nod, a murmured assent, then their lips took up the conversation that had begun so many months before.  There, in a dusty workshop at eleven o’clock on a Friday morning, the last obstacle that stood between them came crashing to the ground.  In its place came warmth and certainty, a candleflame of cherished possibility. 

[renee-writer]

Chasing Waves Chapter 56

AO3

Wedding day. It is her wedding day! She wakes in Geillis’ guest room. They are following the tradition of not seeing each other until they meet at the alter, or in this case, at the water’s edge. Geillis is already up, coffee made. She hands her a cup. She takes it with a smile. “Thank you. It is my wedding day! Can you believe it?”

Geillis laughs. “Actually no. I never thought you would get married.”

“Me either. I don’t think I would have had I not meet Jamie.”

“Your welcome.” She smiles bigger.

“Thank you Geillis.”

“Let’s get you ready, eh?”

Jamie paces in his living room as Murtagh watches with a smile. “It is today. Not long.”

“I know. I just can’t wait.”

“A few hours. Have you your vows ready?” Jamie stops pacing and smiles. He believes he has been writing his vows since he first saw her.

“Aye, I do.” Jenny will be there soon. She and Ian are preparing the children for their roles there. Wee Jamie will stand beside Murtagh as his junior groomsman. Maggie will be carrying the rings, pulling the flower girl, Kitty, in a wagon behind her.

Geillis puts the last of her makeup on and the dress is carefully slipped over her head. She has chosen the one that is mostly lace with a satin backing under it. A crown of flowers replace the traditional veil. A ring of flowers are placed on her left ankle. She will be walking out barefoot.

“Oh you guys are so beautiful.” Jamie tells his nieces. His handsome nephew stands beside him. Kitty seats in the wagon, playing with the lace on her dress.

“Kathleen, stop it.” Her mam moves her hands. Maggie grins at her baby sister. She knows their mam is fighting a losing battle.

His heart beats faster when she and Ian line the children up. It is about to start. Geillis comes up, beams at the children. Murtagh bows low to her. “Shall we?” She takes his arm. The procession is lead by Wee Jamie wearing his first kilt. Maggie follows, pulling her baby sister, still playing with the lace, to their guest’s amusement. Geillis and Murtagh follow and the music changes to the wedding march and everyone stands.

She knows there will be moments she will remember forever. The moment she steps out between the surf boards that make the aisle and sees her groom will be one of them. She knows she is beautiful bride but Jamie is magnificent. Dressed as his ancestors were at their own long ago weddings, complete with a kilt in Fraser colors, a linen shirt, tall boots, a tartan attached to his shoulder. His eyes alit at the sight of her. She knows her eyes are the same. The sand is warm under her bare feet. She vows to remember how it feels, the sand, the slight breeze, the ohhs and ahhs of their guests, mostly the look on Jamie’s face.

He is reaching for her hand before she reaches him. Their hands come together and he pulls her to him. “You are so beautiful.” He whispers. When he goes to kiss her, the minister laughs.

“A moment Mr. Fraser.” He says through his giggles.

“Sorry.” A titter goes through the guests and he hears Ian laugh aloud. She squeezes his hand.

“Me too.” She whispers.

“Shall we start before the groom jumps the gun?” The laughter fades out. He turns to the couple. “Alright guys. I don’t need to ask if you are ready.”

They did the traditional vows, at first. Then he invites them to say their own.

“Jamie, I love you. Lord alone knows how much. I never saw you coming. My life, I thought it was complete. But it was just in a holding pattern until you came to fit into the pieces I didn’t even know we’re missing. Now, I can’t even imagine living a day of my life without you in it. I vow to be by your side no matter how high the waves get. I vow that this fire between us will never be put out, that I will love you as much on our fiftieth anniversary as I do today. No one or nothing will come between us. I vow to be all you need, that you will never feel alone again. I will never break your heart.”

“Oh Claire, I was looking for you. I know that there was a lass out there that would be the last lass I would see, the only one I would ever really see. When I saw you, I knew you were the one. I will love you as long as I draw breath, no, as long as my soul exists. I vow to be the husband you deserve, the father our children need, I vow to help with ever task, never saying it isn’t my job. I vow that no other lass will turn my head, no other woman will own my heart. I find myself falling more in love with you everyday and I can’t see that ending.”

The giggles of earlier have been replaced by sniffles as their family and friends react to their vows. “Do you have rings to present to each other?” Jenny nudges her daughter and she recalls she has them. She hands them to her uncle and aunt.

“Claire, I give you this ring to represent the never-ending circle of my love for you.” He slips it on her hand.

“Jamie, I give you this ring to represent the never-ending circle of my love for you. And to show the world you are taking.” She adds and poor Geillis is startled into a gasping chuckle.

“You never have to worry about that. May I kiss her, please?”

“It is may pleasure to present Mr. and Mrs. Fraser. Yes, you may kiss.” He takes her face and kisses her with the passion he had been feeling since he saw her come towards him. Cheers and applause greets this.

[liusaidh-writing]

Photograph

--------

Well... there's something to be said for lazing around because you're sick. This fell out of me. 🤷‍♀️

Wrote it on my phone so please excuse any mistakes.

Jamie and Claire are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. It's sometime in the late 80's and Jamie and Claire met not long before WWII. That's really all you need to know. A totally simple short bite to read. Modernish AU / Jamie x Claire

Enjoy!

______________________

"This is early on," she said, laying the photograph on the table, her eager granddaughter leaning in for a closer look. 

"Wow. You- and Granda…" the girl ducked her head, suddenly shy. 

"What?"  Claire Fraser chuckled, resting her hand on Mandy's back. "What were you going to say, love?" 

"You're both just so… smitten. Is that the right word?" 

Claire thought for a moment, her husband's blue eyes staring up at her from the picture. They'd been in their early twenties there, blissfully unaware of things to come: their separation, the birth of their two daughters, then grandchildren. It had been only them, then. 

In the photograph, she beamed up at her Jamie, tall as he was, with eyes that were only for him, it seemed. His auburn hair was cut short, his olive green beanie covering most of it. She wore her floral print dress, with violet Forget-Me-Nots embroidered on the collar. It was her favorite, and Jamie's, too. Claire was sure he loved the way the dress flowed, like liquid down her back, so if she bent over, he could make out the shape of her arse - one of many of his favorite bits of her body. 

She chose not to share this small detail with Mandy, but pointed out the ring she wore - a silver ring, plain as anything - but special. It had been a surprise, that ring; Jamie's promise to return to her in one piece, the promise that they'd be married as soon as possible, that they'd be okay. 

Some of it remained true, after all was said and done, and Claire smiled to herself as she twirled the ring on her finger now. She watched as Mandy moved onto another photo. This one was a photo of Jamie next to a small crib, bent over, affectionately smiling at the baby that laid inside. 

It was Mandy's mother, Brianna, a wee thing of six months or so, smiling back at her father with boundless joy. Mandy couldn't tell from the photo, but Brianna and her Da shared the same red hair, wavy and wild. Her mother had since dyed her hair all sorts of shades, eager to forge her own identity.

Mandy put her finger over Brianna, then, chuckling. 

"She looks like you, Grannie." 

"Huh, everyone always said she took after her father," Claire responded,  surprised by what Mandy apparently saw in the baby's face. 

"Well, she loves Granda a lot, too. See her grinning?" 

Claire only nodded, then looked out the window, her ears picking up the sound of a car on the gravel outside. 

"Your brother's here, Mandy. Let's go welcome him inside." 

Claire stood, brushing her dress down so the wrinkles were smooth again. She followed Mandy outside, the dogs barking and scurrying around as Jemmy got out of his car. 

"Grannie! How does it feel?" 

Claire gave her grandson a warm hug, then kissed him on each cheek. 

"Ah, you know - it doesn't feel like 50 years,' she said, turning to see Jamie and Brianna coming from the barn. 

"Feels longer, Sassenach," Jamie called, his hands dirty from the newest project for the farm. 

"How's the new chicken coop coming, mum?" Jemmy asked, his mother brushing sawdust from her hands. 

"It's… it's a frame. Haven't gotten as much done as we would have liked before dinner." She smiled at Mandy, who danced on her feet, eager to get back inside. 

"Have you seen Grannie's old photos? Granda, come look," she said, pulling her grandfather inside, the rest of them following. 

"I'm sure I've seen them all before," Jamie chuckled, though he happily sat down to examine them. 

Shuffling through them, he smiled, touching one every now and then. He paused at one longer than the others, then shoved it into his coat pocket. 

"Whaf, what was it? Let me see!" Mandy pleaded with him, though he wouldn't relent. 

"I dinna ken how that got there, but this one's for me." He gave Mandy a sly smile, then stood, surreptitiously patting Claire on the bottom as he headed for the sitting room. 

The photo in his pocket was over 50 years old, he knew, and he wasn't sure anyone else knew the story behind it. He sat in front of the fire, the memory swimming into view. 

He'd met Claire at a dance, a fete of sorts, and they'd danced together more than once, each of them seeking one another out, unabashed and fearless. 

The photo in his pocket was one of Claire, her hair up just so, a braid at the side, her heels dangling on her fingers as she waited outside for her uncle. 

Jamie's friend had snapped that first photo, the one he'd carried with him all these years. 

She hadn't gone home to her uncle that night. Instead, she'd found her way into his heart, both of them falling so hard a damn World War couldn't tear them apart, though it almost had.

They'd be married 50 years today, but Jamie knew it had been much longer. He'd sold his soul that first night, that first kiss by his truck, her heels falling to the ground as her hand became preoccupied with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

No… this photo was his, that  beautiful brown-haired lass smiling as she bent to catch a glimpse of him, just one more time. 

Though, thank God, she'd seen him, pulled him to the side, kissed him hard. A fire burned that night, crackling and hot, the start of two lives merging, becoming one.

[boyneriver-fraser]

It's 3 in the morning and I was perusing your blog and saw the post about Murtaugh. I was reminded about the prequel in It was such a gift in Season 5 when Murtaugh was explaing his vow to young Jamie. Jamie releasing Murtaugh from his vow and the battle scene when Murtaugh was shot. (I can't say dies) I again saw that small boy and young Murtaugh. I will close my eyes now knowing he is safe in Canada with his wife and cats. Good Night.

Friday, March 5, 2021 (1819 Standard Outlander Time)

Dear Anonymous

Thank you for remembering Murtz so fondly… and for your insightful appreciation of his living his best life with me and the wee cheeties. I’m far too secure in my relationship to question your thinking of my husband while you can’t sleep at three in the morning.

Please enjoy this complimentary giftorial* tribute to your observations.

Murtagh’s vow

Jamie’s release

Stinkin’ Redcoat’s terrorism

20th Century’s reassurance

Say, dear Anon, if you know anyone who’s in the market for a new ship — now or in the near future — might I recommend the River-Frasers? We joyously celebrated our recent 4th wedding anniversary and only have eyes for each other. (Two years and two days ago I promoted Edrun as an alternative ship, but sadly with sweet Edina’s passing… sigh… Edrun here)

Slàinte!

boyneriver-fraser, BS, MS, PhD, lots of shady trees 🛶

*little known French Canadian word for “a gift of gifs sometimes used as a pictorial and often mistaken for a tutorial”

Inbox Message: #34 │Received: 022721 │Answered: 030521

Photos: Boyne River sign pembinavalleyonline.com, WEDDING True Romance cover @sassylover-stuff

Gifs: 1,6,7 @themusicsweetly 2,3,8 @scotsmanandsassenach 4,5 @witch

#Inbox #34 #Received 022721 #Anonymous #Murtz memories #Safe in Canada #Outlander #The Fiery Cross #S5E1 The Fiery Cross #S5E7 The Ballad Of Roger Mac #Jamie Fraser #Murtagh FitzGibbons Fraser ⚔️ #BoyneRiver-Fraser 🛶 #Rerun 😺 #Belle 😸 #208 #030521