#and of course basia...she is my favorite

[cinemaocd]

I love you Helena, I love you Olenka, I love you Basia...the blonde ladies of Trylogia...I love you...

[bee-kathony]

Formerly Fraser - Epilogue 

written by @julesbeauchamp​ & @curlsgetdemgurls​

a/n: thank you so much to everyone who has read and left comments on this story! we’re sad that it’s over, but we hope you enjoyed it! 

Previous Chapters 

5 years later

Since that day when Jamie came tumbling through Claire’s window and they vowed to reconnect, things hadn’t been smooth sailing. Every day was work and it was tough to build back that trust and foundation that they had lost over the years. Together, they took their relationship one day at a time, connecting in old and new ways and always putting the other one first.

Only five months after admitting they never truly stopped loving one another, they remarried in the Highlands. It was a small affair with only their children and Louise in attendance.

Claire was nervous. Even after all these years, Jamie still had the ability to make her knees weak with just one look. They didn’t want to make a big deal out of getting remarried which was why their whole family had come up to the Highlands to a cottage fit for all of them. Of course, Claire had invited Louise to come along, mostly just to help calm her nerves and also to help her look beautiful.

“There,” her friend brushed lightly against her cheeks and then took a step back. “Magnifique,” she kissed the tips of her fingers. “Very natural and light, but very beautiful. I wasn’t there for your first wedding, which is why you ended up marrying in Converse but I’m glad I’m here now.”

Claire chuckled and shook her head, “I’m glad you’re here too, Loulou.”  

Turning around on the plush stool, she looked at herself for the first time that day in the mirror. There were certainly a few more lines and grey hairs that hadn’t been there on her first wedding day to Jamie. Her wedding dress wasn’t a dress, but a cream colored pant suit that showcased Jamie’s favorite assets of hers. The riotous curls couldn’t be tamed, but Louise managed well enough and pinned it elegantly back to frame her face.

“What do you think girls?” Claire asked her daughters, standing up from the stool and doing a little spin.

“Gorgeous Mama!” Elena smiled, clapping her hands.

“Da is gonna lose his mind when he sees ye,” Julia smirked, taking a picture of her mother.

“I can’t believe I’m getting married again,” Claire took a deep breath, “And to the same man!”

Everyone laughed and as the laughter died down, Claire opened her arms to hug her two girls. “I love you very much my darlings. Your father and I both do, I just want to thank you both and your brother of course, for putting up with us while we sorted things out.”

“We love you too, Mama and we’re so happy you both are together again. We really are,” Elena and Julia kissed her cheeks. “Now, it’s time to get you married!”

“I suppose it is!”

Claire twisted the silver ring on her right hand – it had once been on her left hand, but Jamie had been dropping hints of a new ring. Not that she needed something new, but it was sweet of him to want to mark the occasion.

Louise held the door open of the small room and Julia and Elena went first, followed lastly by Claire. The ceremony was being held outside near tall standing stones that were behind the cottage. Jamie had arranged for a priest to officiate the wedding and Claire could just see them now – Jamie, Alex and the priest all waiting outside.

A highlander in full regalia is an impressive sight no matter how old, ill favored, or crabbed in appearance. A tall, straight bodied, middle aged highlander was breathtaking. And he was all hers.

Claire started to make her way toward Jamie slowly, their eyes locked. She couldn’t do anything but smile and felt a lump in her throat as she noticed how teary Jamie’s eyes had gotten. The wind blew all around them, lifting up the end of his kilt and Claire couldn’t help but giggle a little.

It wasn’t a long walk to him, but when she finally reached him, she breathed a sigh of relief. There was no turning back now.

“Ye look beautiful, Sassenach. The most stunnin’ bride I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he took her hands, squeezing them tightly.

“You’re not too shabby either, my darling,” The corner of her mouth flicked up into a mischievous grin. Jamie knew what wearing his kilt did to her.

They followed the priest’s instructions fairly easily and when it came time for the rings, Jamie did in fact pull out a new ring, holding it delicately in his hand. “It belonged to my mother,” he smiled proudly. “I always planned to give it to ye someday, now seems like the right time.”

“It’s gorgeous, Jamie,” Claire smiled, tears filling her eyes as Jamie slid on the ring. It really was beautiful, vintage of course with a silver band to match her other one and adorned with a white diamond in the middle, surrounded by two emeralds. Once the ring was safely on her left hand, Claire slid Jamie’s ring onto his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Now it’s time for the symbolic blood vow,” the priest said and Jamie pressed his wrist to Claire’s.

“Ye are blood of my blood and bone of my bone, I give ye my body, that we two might be one,” Jamie smiled and Claire finished, “I give you my spirit, til our life shall be done.”

The priest looked at them, slightly smiling, “I now pronounce ye man and wife. Ye may kiss yer bride,” He looked at Jamie.

Claire stepped a bit closer, her eyes never leaving his, and smiled, “Da mi basia mile…”

Jamie cupped her face, he had tears strolling down his cheeks and so had Claire. He leaned down and sealed their lips for a long moment.

“Ye go, Da!” Elena exclaimed loudly as everyone erupted into cheers.

Claire chuckled against his lips, holding him close, “We’re married!”

“Aye, Sassenach,” He smiled widely, “Thank Christ, we are.”

After their little wedding and a honeymoon in Italy, Jamie and Claire went back to a routine as a married couple. Claire realised how much she had missed having him around, even to simply share silence with. She also finally felt like the missing piece of her heart was back. And she felt like she was walking on a cloud. She cut back from the hospital and started a private practice to be able to spend more time at home with Jamie, and with the children. Annalise reacted to the news better then they both had anticipated. After a tantrum at the ceremony and another when Jamie finally went to talk to her, things calmed down. When Claire went to work the monday following the weekend that should have been Jamie’s wedding to the nurse, she had resigned and moved back to Paris.

Now, she was married to a rich french investor and she was busy spending all his money Avenue Montaigne. Or at least, that’s what Louise – who knew all of Paris – told Claire at a dinner once.

Days turned into months and into years. Julia had gotten married two years ago and recently gave birth to a little girl, Isla. Alex had moved to London and Elena worked with Jamie at his law firm.

Everyone was up in the Highlands to spend the holidays there. While Jamie was sound asleep next to her, Claire was restless and looked at the clock. It was the middle of the night and she could hear the baby cry on the other side of the hall.

Carefully, she got up and put on her bathrobe. She gave a look towards her husband before walking out silently. She found Julia walking around, rocking her daughter, and she smiled at the sight. Her baby girl was a mother now. It was funny how time flew by without anyone noticing.  

“Darling,” Claire said in a low voice, walking over her daughter, “Do you want me to take care of her?”

Julia smiled softly, nodding, “She ate, I don’t know what’s wrong with her…”

“Go back to bed, my love,” Claire kissed her daughter’s temple and took her crying granddaughter in her arms. “I’ll take care of her.”

She held her close, slowly rocking her and whispered, “You do have great lungs, wee lamb. You’re going to wake up everyone, at this rate.”

Julia watched them, “Thank you mom, I owe you one.”

“I don’t mind at all,” She smiled, not taking her eyes off her granddaughter, “It’s just some colics, I’ll make them pass while you go and rest.”

“I love you,” Julia kissed her cheek and her daughter’s head before going back to her room.

Claire made her way downstairs to the library and sat down on the leather sofa. She laid Isla on her chest and slowly started to rub her stomach.

“It’s not nice to keep your mother up at night like that, but I guess it’s payback for when she did it to me huh?” Claire couldn’t help but smile, thinking about her own children when they were that age and how desperate for sleep and silence she had been.

“But then you have an excuse, you have colics,” She whispered, noticing her granddaughter was settling and her cries had stopped, “Your mother only cried because she wanted to be held.”

Claire pulled her leg up and shifted the baby carefully, laying her against her legs and holding her little hands, “You look just like her and like your grandpapa.” She smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. Claire didn’t know it, but Jamie had woken up as she climbed out of bed and was now standing in the doorway, watching his wife and granddaughter.

During the years they spent apart, he had wondered what it would be like when they had grandchildren. He was just happy now that they were together and could all be a proper family again. There was nothing Jamie loved more than seeing his wife smile and he saw that same sweet smile on Isla’s lips. Knocking lightly on the door so not to disturb them, he smiled as Claire turned to look over at him.

“I thought you were asleep,” Claire whispered. “Did I wake you?”

“I always wake when you do, Sassenach; I sleep ill without ye by my side.” Jamie kissed the top of her head and sat down beside her, stroking Isla’s cheek.

“How did you manage for all those years without me then?” She leaned her head against his shoulder.

“I didna,” he shrugged, kissing her mass of curls. “Worst years of sleep I ever had, Sassenach.”

“Stop,” Claire blushed, nudging his side. “Well, I’d be lying if I didn’t say the same. I always feel safe when you’re beside me.”

Sliding his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her close, resting his head on hers and looked down at his granddaughter. “D'ye ken that the only time I am without pain is in your bed, Sassenach? When I take ye, when I lie in your arms-my wounds are healed, then, my scars forgotten.”

“Then you must never leave my bed,” Claire turned her head to kiss him, her hand reaching up to stroke his chin. “You are my best friend, Jamie. My lover, protector… husband and I want nothing more than to lie in your arms for all eternity.”

“Tha gaol agam ort, Sassenach,” He whispered against her lips, “Let’s bring this ween back to bed and then get back into ours, aye?”

“Let’s just stay here for a bit longer,” she smiled, her finger gently stroking their granddaughter’s cheek.

“Alright, a nighean,” He smiled, watching them.

Neither one of them knew for how long they stayed on the sofa, surrounded by silence and a wrapped in bliss. They were just happy. In a warm home, their children asleep upstairs and them here, with the little miracle of a granddaughter. One they never thought they’d see grow up together only five years ago when they were divorced.

After awhile, Jamie carefully picked up Isla and Claire got up, following him back upstairs. She kissed the baby’s head and let him bring her back to Julia’s room while she went back to their own. She laid back in the canopy bed, waiting for Jamie who reappeared five minutes later, proudly holding two glasses of whisky.

Grinning, Claire sat up and watched him, “That’s exactly why I married you.”

“Because I look verra handsome while holdin’ alcohol?” He closed the door and made his way to the bed.

“Yes, but also because you know when to bring alcohol,” She took a glass out of his hand and kissed him.

Jamie wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, “I’m glad we talk before bed now, like when we first started datin’. That’s what I missed the most, talkin’ to ye about anything. No matter what I would think or say, ye would never judge me, ye always listened and if I wasna well, ye comforted me.”

“I missed it too,” Claire sighed, pressing her cheek against his chest. “All I need in life is you, our children, granddaughter and a nice glass of whisky.”

“Aye, Sassenach,” Jamie smiled tenderly, softly brushing his thumb against Claire’s cheek. “Yer all I’ve ever needed.”

A failure is not always a mistake, it may simply be the best one can do under the circumstances. The real mistake is to stop trying. Failure is the key to success; each mistake teaches us something. A smart man makes a mistake, learns from it, and never makes that mistake again. - B. F. Skinner

[eddis-not-eeddis]

HAH, @captaingondor tagged me with my own tag, wonders never cease! Thanks for tagging me, Cap! You can’t have have my firstborn, but you can be one of his or her fairy-godmamas when and if he or she is born. (Provided, of course, you give a useful gift, like the ability to take a few hundred year snoozes so his mom can get in some writing time between feedings and diaper changes.) 

Rules: Thank the person who tagged you and offer them your first born child. (You know you’ve been dying to write down what this character looks like for ages, so it’s totally worth it.) Describe your character down to the golden flecks in their eyes and the scar behind their knee. Then tag all your writerly friends and prepare to raise a gaggle of their firstborns.

Basia is an older woman than you typically read about in YA, I never pegged down her age, but I imagine her in her forties right now. She’s tall, and lean, and her skin is darker than the average Edurian, partly because she has Southern blood, and partly because she works in all kinds of weather. 

She has a lot of little wrinkles around her eyes from squinting into the sun, and deep smile lines, though these are more from pursing her lips than from smiling. 

She has a few scars, but none that are especially new or prominent, she’s usually pretty good at hiding them. For instance, she would never in a million years wear a gown with a low back, or if her sister somehow convinced her to do so, she would be very careful to arrange her hair to hide the scar she got from a poorly aimed knife stroke.

She has two looks, one for town, one for business. When she’s in town she wears what she wants to wear, and when she’s on the job she wears what she has to for practicality’s sake. She dearly loves pretty things, and the comforts of life, but is forced, more often than not, to go with an item’s more practical counterpart, for efficiency and cost. 

Her hair is very long, past her knees, light brown and wavy. She wears it done in elaborate half-up half-down hairdos in town to show off, and wears elegant gowns. She looks best in green, but she refuses to acknowledge this, preferring to wear her favorite color: blue. 

She uses an ornamental walking stick when in town (more for intimidation purposes than anything, and she has is magicked to make very loud clicks as she walks). 

She’s technically titled, and therefor is a lady, and she feels the need to look the part, though the other nobles would hardly deign to notice her if she tried to enter their ranks.

When she’s on business, she wears her hair in a tight braid and much simpler clothing, and over everything a felted woolen robe (olive green) that keeps her clothes clean. She loves her robe because she can stuff things into the front and they don’t fall out. It’s like a hoodie with the pocket along the front. It’s comfortable and practical, and saves the clothes underneath from stains. 

I tag @without-injuring-eternity, for one of your OCs

I tag @flightsoffancyonpaperwings, for Annabel

I tag @hobbitsetal, for one of your OCs

I also tag any of my followers who want to do this tag to do it! (I don’t exactly know who all is a writer, and what your OCs are called.) Have at it!