#Outlander 2x03

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 2 EPISODE 03 || USEFUL OCCUPATIONS AND DECEPTIONS ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

“He can’t marry a fifteen-year-old girl to … to … that! And without even asking her!” “Oh, I expect he can,” Jamie said, with infuriating calmness. “In any case, Sassenach, it isna your affair.” He took me firmly by both arms and gave me a little shake. “D’ye hear me? I know it’s strange to ye, but that’s how matters are. After all”—the long mouth curled up at one corner—“you, were made to wed against your will. Reconciled yourself to it yet, have ye?” “Sometimes I wonder!” I yanked, trying to pull my arms free, but he merely gathered me in, laughing, and kissed me. After a moment, I gave up fighting. I relaxed into his embrace, admitting surrender, if only temporarily. I would meet with Mary Hawkins, I thought, and we’d see just what she thought about this proposed marriage. If she didn’t want to see her name on a marriage contract, linked with the Vicomte Marigny, then … Suddenly I stiffened, pushing away from Jamie’s embrace. “What is it?” he looked alarmed. “Are ye ill, lass? You’ve gone all white!” And little wonder if I had. For I had suddenly remembered where I had seen the name of Mary Hawkins. Jamie was wrong. This was my affair. For I had seen the name, written in a copperplate hand at the top of a genealogy chart, the ink old and faded by time to a sepia brown.

Mary Hawkins was not meant to be the wife of the decrepit Vicomte Marigny. She was to marry Jonathan Randall, in the year of our Lord 1745. “Well, she can’t, can she?” Jamie said. “Jack Randall is dead.” He finished pouring the glass of brandy, and held it out to me. His hand was steady on the crystal stem, but the line of his mouth was set and his voice clipped the word “dead,” giving it a vicious finality. “Put your feet up, Sassenach,” he said. “You’re still pale.” At his motion, I obediently pulled up my feet and stretched out on the sofa. Jamie sat down near my head, and absently rested a hand on my shoulder. His fingers felt warm and strong, gently massaging the small hollow of the joint. “Marcus MacRannoch told me he’d seen Randall trampled to death by cattle in the dungeons of Wentworth Prison,” he said again, as though seeking to reassure himself by repetition. “A ‘rag doll, rolled in blood.’ That’s what Sir Marcus said. He was verra sure about it.” “Yes.” I sipped my brandy, feeling the warmth come back into my cheeks. “He told me that, too. No, you’re right, Captain Randall is dead. It just gave me a turn, suddenly remembering about Mary Hawkins. Because of Frank.” I glanced down at my left hand, resting on my stomach. There was a small fire burning on the hearth, and the light of it caught the smooth gold band of my first wedding ring. Jamie’s ring, of Scottish silver, circled the fourth finger of my other hand. “Ah.” Jamie’s touch on my shoulder stilled. His head was bent, but he glanced up to meet my gaze. We had not spoken of Frank since I had rescued Jamie from Wentworth, nor had Jonathan Randall’s death been mentioned between us. At the time it had seemed of little importance, except insofar as it meant that no more danger menaced us from that direction. And since then, I had been reluctant to bring back any memory of Wentworth to Jamie. “You know he is dead, do ye not, mo duinne?” Jamie spoke softly, his fingers resting on my wrist, and I knew he spoke of Frank, not Jonathan. “Maybe not,” I said, my eyes still fixed on the ring. I raised my hand, so the metal gleamed in the fading afternoon light. “If he’s dead, Jamie���if he won’t exist, because Jonathan is dead—then why do I still have the ring he gave me?” He stared at the ring, and I saw a small muscle twitch near his mouth. His face was pale, too, I saw. I didn’t know whether it would do him harm to think of Jonathan Randall now, but there seemed little choice. “You’re sure that Randall had no children before he died?” he asked. “That would be an answer.”

“It would,” I said, “but no, I’m sure not. Frank”—my voice trembled a bit on the name, and Jamie’s grip on my wrist tightened—“Frank made quite a bit of the tragic circumstances of Jonathan Randall’s death. He said that he—Jack Randall—had died at Culloden Field, in the last battle of the Rising, and his son—that would be Frank’s five-times great-grandfather—was born a few months after his father’s death. His widow married again, a few years later. Even if there were an illegitimate child, it wouldn’t be in Frank’s line of descent.” Jamie’s forehead was creased, and a thin vertical line ran between his brows. “Could it be a mistake, then—that the child was not Randall’s at all? Frank may come only of Mary Hawkins’s line—for we know she still lives.” I shook my head helplessly. “I don’t see how. If you’d known Frank—but no, I suppose I’ve never told you. When I first met Jonathan Randall, I thought for the first moment that he was Frank—they weren’t the same, of course, but the resemblance was … startling. No, Jack Randall was Frank’s ancestor, all right.” “I see.” Jamie’s fingers had grown damp; he took them away and wiped them absently on his kilt. “Then … perhaps the ring means nothing, mo duinne,” he suggested gently. “Perhaps not.” I touched the metal, warm as my own flesh, then dropped my hand helplessly. “Oh, Jamie, I don’t know! I don’t know anything!” He rubbed his knuckles tiredly on the crease between his eyes. “Neither do I, Sassenach.” He dropped his hand and tried to smile at me. “There’s the one thing,” he said. “You said that Frank told you Jonathan Randall would die at Culloden?” “Yes. In fact, I told Jack Randall that myself, to scare him—at Wentworth, when he put me out in the snow, before … before going back to you.” His eyes and mouth clamped shut in sudden spasm, and I swung my feet down, alarmed. “Jamie! Are you all right?” I tried to put a hand on his head, but he pulled away from my touch, rising and going to the window. “No. Yes. It’s all right, Sassenach. I’ve been writing letters all the morning, and my head’s fit to burst. Dinna worry yourself.” He waved me away, pressing his forehead against the cold pane of the window, eyes tight closed. He went on speaking, as though to distract himself from the pain. “Then, if you—and Frank—knew that Jack Randall would die at Culloden, but we know that he shall not … then it can be done, Claire.” “What can be done?” I hovered anxiously, wanting to help, but not knowing what to do. Clearly he didn’t want to be touched.

“What you know will happen can be changed.” He raised his head from the window and smiled tiredly at me. His face was still white, but the traces of that momentary spasm were gone. “Jack Randall died before he ought, and Mary Hawkins will wed another man. Even if that means that your Frank wilna be born—or perhaps will be born some other way,” he added, to be comforting, “then it also means that we have a chance of succeeding in what we’ve set ourselves to do. Perhaps Jack Randall didna die at Culloden Field, because the battle there will never happen.”

8 UNLAID GHOSTS AND CROCODILES ~Dragonfly in amber

[onebraincellfan]

Girl same. If I'd see Jamie so happy I would probably have a hard time telling him the bad news

[cajon-desastre]

Every villain is a hero in his own mind.

Tom Hiddleston

[winnie-the-monster]

[aceofwhump]

Do you have any seizure whump?

And fainting whump?

Here are some recs for seizure whump that I've answered

And here are some of my favorite fainting/passing out whumps (sidenote i do also recommend checking the tags for both on my blog for more):

The Mentalist 1x16

Prison Break 4x10

Mr. Smith Goes To Washington

Avatar the Last Airbender 2x18

Spider-Man 2

Game of Thrones 3x05

The Umbrella Academy 1x09

Station 19 6x18

Supernatural 1x12

Heroes 1x11

Outlander 3x05

The Foster 4x07

Broadchurch 1x04

Warehouse 2x03

White Collar 1x08

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries 1x13

Saving Hope 1x01

NCIS 2x23

Merlin 4x01

Stargate SG-1 9x01, 9x04, 9x06

[forgetmenotsassenach17]

Wednesday 100(s)

Every week, I post a wee Outlander drabble (100 word story) on twitter and every week, I think, "I should post this on tumblr too." And today I am finally committing myself to it. I'm currently in the process of writing and sharing one drabble from every episode from season 2, all from the perspective of Fergus. Here are the first three so you can catch up!

2x01, Place

After breakfast with the ladies at Maison Elise, Fergus found himself navigating the labyrinthine streets of Paris, blending into the swarms of people, unnoticed. He effortlessly nicked a loaf of bread from an inattentive merchant, before finding his way to the la rivière Seine. He would pass the afternoon watching the boats come and go, dreaming of lives he would never live but was desperate to experience. It was normal for young boys to seek adventures, the ladies told him. But that alone could not describe the longing within him. A longing for a place, for people all his own.

 

2x02, Cramped

The tiny closet under the stairs where Fergus slept was growing increasingly cramped, not with possessions, but because he was apparently getting taller. He found himself curling into tighter and tighter balls to fit in this little space of his, though it was evident that soon enough, he would no longer be able to lay his head here. He looked around the space, the only place he had ever called home, and suddenly felt a profound sense of sadness. This place was not perfect, but it was his. Would he ever again find somewhere to safely rest? To call home?

2x03, Worth Keeping

It was not the first time Fergus spotted the burly, redheaded man in the brothel. He was certain that was the man from whom he had lifted the wooden snake currently in his pocket. A difficult target, partly because of his size, but also because the man seemed to be equally observant of his surroundings as Fergus was of his own. Tonight, the man was alone, which was unusual, and was agitated, tapping his fingers relentlessly on his leg. Perhaps his distraction would make him an easy target tonight. Maybe he had something on him Fergus would find worth keeping.

[themusicsweetly]

Happy Birthday, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Randall Fraser!

I’ve no life but you, Claire

[avasetocallmyown]

𝗷𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗲 𝘅 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗲 • every moment, every second • 𝟭𝟮/∞

[give-me-a-thousandkisses]

COUNTDOWN TO SEASON 4 ･ Favorite Jamie & Claire Moment  ↳ Episode 2.03 ‘Useful Occupations and Deceptions’

[sassenachscreencaps]

(Outlander, 2x03 - Useful Occupations and Deceptions)

[jamiedornaniseverything]

[sassenach77yle]

[thefrsers]

requested by Anon: Claire + pink dress in 2.03 “Use Occupations and Deceptions”

[cajon-desastre]

@AngusAngels

[winnie-the-monster]

[nordic-sassenach]

1.03 | 2.03

requested by @lifeasbritney