#jamie and claire fraser deserved to raise bairns together

[adsosfraser]

Chapter three is posted!

Hang your stockings with care

Read on ao3

12 Days OL Ficmas

Summary: The spirit of Christmas works in mysterious ways to right the wrongs and imbalances of the universe. Baby Faith is very wise beyond her (hundreds of) years and provides a happy ending for all.

[frasers-of-my-heart]

Wednesday 100: Practical Parenthood

“Come ‘ere, Sassenach,” Jamie pulls me in by my hips.

“Jamie, I’m covered in…” I gesture widely to myself, knowing the children’s sick could be anywhere at this point. A stomach bug has been tearing through the house while he was away.

“It doesna matter,” his eyes crinkle and he wraps a finger in my hair as he dips a rag in the wash basin, wiping away what he finds as he rakes his eyes over me. “Thank ye for caring for the bairns, lay down and rest. I’ll take them now.” He tucks me into bed, kissing my temple.

[renee-writer]

Accidentally Roomies Chapter 44

AO3

The normalcy of it all, that is what has her tearing up. A dinner, that includes teasing between Jamie and Janet and Ian and Jamie, loving gestures between Ellen and Brian, well just he whole family vibe. She and her uncle have a very loving relationship and their dinners together are great but, it is different with such a big family. Wee Ian and Maggie had greeted her with smiles and shy waves. They are animated though at the dinner table, chatting with their Uncle Jamie about his life in the city.

Now, as she helps Ellen with the dishes, tears drop down her face. Ellen drops the plate she was washing back in the water, dries her hands and, takes Claire into her arms. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything is so right. Your family, it is what family is supposed to be. My uncle and I we were family, no doubt, it is just..”

Ellen holds the taller woman close, drawing her head down onto her shoulder. “It wasn’t fair. It isn’t.” She gives her permission to grief what was lost while still being thankful for what is.

“No!” Her hands cling to Ellen ‘s back as her sobs wet her shoulder. She is held in a mother's arms and rocked and swayed gently as Ellen murmurs Gaelic words. Everything she had been holding back, all that the return of Henry and Julia, the meeting of Faith, had unleashed, comes out in the Fraser’s kitchen in the arms of Jamie ‘s mam.

When the sobs start to break-up into hiccups, Julia leads her to a chair and takes a seat beside her. Claire wipes her face with the dishtowel that was still in her hand. Ellen waits. Red-rimmed eyes lift up to her patient ones. “I didn’t know how much I was holding on to.”

“You have been through a lot. You had to bury the hurt your parents abandonment caused to survive. No bairn can carry that,” she tsks, “so you found a life with your uncle, the dear man, and didn’t think about them. Now with their return and the knowledge of Faith, that they are capable of being parents, just didn’t with you, well, it had to come out.”

“Yes, that’s it. I thought I was over it but then, I see them with Faith, I see Jamie with you guys and… Damn it that is what I deserved!”

“Good, the anger is healthy and right. I read somewhere that anger is your minds response to being mistreated. That it knows you deserve better and anger shows that. And you did and do. You are allowed to be angry and grief what should have been. But,” She reaches out to take her face, “don’t live in the past so much that you neglect the present or damage the future.”

“I love him. I didn’t want to as I feared he would leave. I feared hurting him too. But, he was so bloody patient. Not letting me forget who I am. Loving me before I could fully love myself. He is strong and courageous stubborn and persistent. He made it okay to give him my heart because I know he will cherish it. Made it okay for me to cherish his, for he trusted me with it. You and Brian raised an extraordinary young man.”

Now Ellen has tears falling. “Your uncle, who we must meet when your sister is better, raised an extraordinary young lady. My Jamie is blessed to have you. Now, mo mighean, go join him. I have this.” They stand and hug. “I will always be available for a good cry, rant, sounding board or, whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” She hugs her again and slips out to find Jamie. Ellen wipes her eyes, a huge smile on her face. She is the person she and Brian had been praying Jamie would find.

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

In honor of wee Faithie’s birthday...

I’m reposting an excerpt from chapter 6 of my fic The Best by Far is You when it’s Faith Fraser’s first birthday. Sweet bb angel deserved the whole world so here’s some happy headcanons to cope :) 

A soft thump landed on Jamie’s chest and woke him suddenly from his sleep. He breathed in sharply and raised his head, taking in the sight of a half-awake Faith before him. Her hard head was resting on his chest and her little feet were digging into the mattress to try and propel herself further onto him, leaving her diapered rump wagging in the air. She did all this with her eyes screwed shut against the morning light and her head trying to burrow into him. 

“What are ye trying to do, wee lass?” He laughed. Faith grunted and squirmed, trying to get comfortable. Upset that she even had to be awake and trying her damndest to rectify that, it seemed. “Ye dinna like mornings much, do ye?” Jamie helped scoot the baby up so that she was draped over him. She let out a big yawn and looked to be almost asleep already. “Just like yer mam.” 

His gaze flicked over to his wife and found his comment had gone unnoticed by her. If any two souls ever loved an unhurried morning to sleep as late as they liked, they were his lasses. But while the baby was working at falling back to sleep, Jamie had been woken in the process. It wasn’t as easy for him to drift back to sleep once the sun was up and the day could begin. It also wasn’t the first time Faith had done this since she had become too mobile to be left in her wee crib. They only needed to see Faith pull herself up and flip herself out and over the shallow wall of her cradle one time before they decided to bring her into their bed at night ‒ a decision they knew was safest, but had thus far taken some adjusting to.

But this day was special and the weight of the baby keeping him in bed was exactly how he would have this morning go. 

Jamie sat up slowly, scooching back against the headboard. He cradled Faith against him and shifted her head up onto his shoulder once he was upright. He felt her sleepy huff against his skin. His precious, wee bairn. His and Claire’s.  

His hand still cradled the back of Faith’s head and the other helped steady her fidgety body as her legs kicked and wiggled for a moment longer. At last, she settled in against him and he turned his face into her little head where it rested on his shoulder and kissed her hair. 

“Tha gaol agam ort, a chuisle.” He kissed her hair again, unable to help himself. She was warm and snug against him. “I do love you. Happy birthday, my wee lass. I canna believe‒” He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat as he was confronted with memories of this day last year. The day he believed he had lost Claire and their baby. 

But the baby in his arms was very much alive, against all odds. And though he’d had a late start in being a part of Faith’s life, he had never let a day pass since then without telling her every morning that he loved her, and praying protection over her sleeping form every night. And he dedicated his time in between just trying to be worthy enough for the life he’d been given with Claire and the family they were building together. He didn’t often allow his mind to drift to those first three months for the sake of the dark memories that haunted that time for him. But with his child’s birthday came a natural desire to reflect and look back.

“No, I truly canna believe you’re still here some days. Ye’re a strong wee thing, that’s for sure.” He rubbed her back in slow circles, feeling the baby go completely lax with sleep. “I’ll never forget the first time I held you. Ye were the smallest bairn I’d ever seen. So delicate and pale. I was so scared of losing you still, even though you’d survived that long already. Ye broke my heart open wi’ how much I loved you, a leannan.” 

He became aware of Claire’s waking presence before her hand reached out blindly for him, her head still buried in her pillow. She caught his thigh and, not expecting that to be level with her, lifted her head to squint at him in the morning light. He watched her take in the sight of him and Faith, and caught her sleepy smile before her head dropped back to the pillow. His hand left the baby in favor of brushing aside the wild curls that had fallen over Claire’s face and obscured her from him. She hummed at his touch and he smiled widely, though neither of his lasses noticed. His touch lingered on Claire, tracing the slope of her cheek until she abruptly captured his hand with her eyes still closed and brought it to her lips for a kiss. 

He couldn’t reflect on the beauty of Faith’s life without the immediate swell of gratitude for Claire. She had changed his life so completely and set it on a path he never dared to dream of. 

“Good morning, my beautiful wife.” 

He was rewarded with another sleepy smile from Claire as she stretched like a cat and propped herself up on one elbow. 

“What does that look mean, Sassenach?” 

She startled slightly as he called her out and she scooched closer so she could join them. Her arm slung around his waist just below Faith’s little feet and her head came to rest on his shoulder. “I was remembering that first night you came home and waking up to find you sitting up like this with Faith asleep on your chest.” She turned her face into his shoulder, as she had done that night as well, and kissed him there softly. 

“She was frightfully small then.” 

“Yes, she was,” Claire agreed. She reached out and covered his hand with her own, both of them now resting on Faith’s back. Jamie let out a sigh as something eased in his chest. He pressed a kiss to Claire’s temple and then met her gaze when she tilted her face up to him. They didn’t speak further on the subject. They didn’t need to. The fear and the gratitude and the absolutely overwhelming love for Faith that Jamie felt was echoed in his wife’s eyes. They’d almost lost Faith once and there wasn’t a day of her sweet life that they didn’t feel exceedingly grateful to still have her with them. 

Perhaps it was the sound of both parents’ voices that woke Faith from her brief sleep. After a moment, Jamie and Claire, with their palms still resting on her back, felt her breathe in deeply and then let the air out in a long, slow sigh. Her head popped up from Jamie’s shoulder, one hand rubbing furiously at one still-closed eye. 

“Well, good morning.” Claire’s voice had a soft lilt to it, and Jamie tore his eyes away from the baby to see the radiant smile on her face. “Happy birthday, my darling girl.” 

 She leaned over Jamie and kissed Faith’s round cheek, still flushed from sleep. Jamie felt his breath snag at the sight. It didn’t matter that it was a moment he’d been privileged to see a million times over; he never loved anything more than bearing witness to the bond between Claire and the child they’d created together, the living testament of their love. 

Faith leaned sideways, chasing after Claire with her lips almost in a pout and her face tilted up expectantly.

“Ye want tae give a kiss, a leannan?” Jamie asked softly. 

Claire pressed a kiss to Faith’s pouty mouth, coming away with a bright smile. “What about for Da? Does he get a kiss, too?” 

Faith turned immediately to Jamie at that suggestion and jutted her lower lip out in the only way she had sorted out how to give a kiss. He obliged that sweet, upturned face with a kiss and then ducked his head to mockingly nibble at her neck. She let out a burst of giggles and squirmed away, her shoulder pressed up to her ear in reflex.         

“You love your da, don’t you?” Claire gently stroked Faith’s cheek.

Jamie felt his heart fit to burst at his wife’s words and Faith’s bright-eyed gaze back at him at the mention of “da”. It was the strangest, most wonderful feeling ‒ to love this child with everything that he had and to then realize, as she grew, that she loved him, too.    

“Ah Dhia,” he murmured reverently. “Ye dinna ken how much I love you, M'annsachd.”

[Read the whole chapter on ao3]

[imagineclaireandjamie]

For the Modern Glasgow au: the bairns and Murtagh organizing a secret big renewal vows party for Jamie & Claire for a milestone anniversary in place of the one they didn't have on their actual wedding.

Modern Glasgow AU

It started with an accident.

Murtagh still didn’t quite know how it had happened - only that it had ended with sixteen-year-old William racing into the house one afternoon, screaming for Claire to come quickly and that Jamie was hurt.

Quickly he’d kissed Suzette goodbye and raced out with Claire and William toward the barn and then around the side. Jamie sat ramrod straight up against one wall, Ian Murray’s strong hand on shoulder to steady him, his bloody left hand curled up against his side.

He’d held Jamie’s other shoulder and William had held his Da’s right hand as Claire meticulously uncurled his broken fingers, wiped away the blood and cleaned and sutured the wounds.

The hardest part wasn’t seeing Jamie’s reaction to the pain. It was his reaction to Claire’s matter-of-fact statement, about fifteen minutes after they arrived:

“Jamie - I need to cut off your wedding ring. It’s cutting off the blood flow to your finger.”

Indeed it was - for Jamie’s fingers had all swollen to far larger than their normal size.

Murtagh squeezed his godson’s shoulder. “Ye need to do it, lad. It’s just a ring. It can be fixed.”

Gently Claire raised one hand - smeared with Jamie’s blood - to cradle her husband’s cheek. Looking into his pained eyes. “Let me do this to heal you.”

He sighed, and nodded. 

“The cutters please, William,” Claire said gently. William rooted around in her emergency box and three short snips later, Claire deposited the ring - snipped neatly into an open circle - into Ian Murray’s waiting hand.

“Dinna fash,” he said to his brother-in-law, concerned eyes meeting Murtagh’s. “We’ll set it right.”

---

A few years before, Murtagh had asked auld Hiram Crombie - an institution in the wee village of Broch Mordha, just a few miles from Lallybroch - to repair a few pieces of old jewelry that Suzette had inherited from her mother and grandmother. They were small but precise repairs - and Suzette had been so surprised and pleased when he’d given them to her for their anniversary.

So after he and Claire and William and Ian had helped Jamie back to the house - hearing all about the old shelf that had collapsed on him and the sharp tools that had rained down on his hands as he protected his head - Murtagh got to thinking.

That’s why he murmured to Claire, once they had tucked Jamie into bed and he had been surrounded by Julia and Bree and Jenny and Faith and Mrs. Crook and Fergus and Marsali and everyone else in the house who had missed the excitement outside - “Let me take care of fixing this.”

Claire had been surprised, of course - yet grateful.

And Hiram was glad to make the repair.

“I’ve a wee bit of silver in the back,” he said softly, examining the cut ring with his enormous magnified spectacles. “Should be a straightforward job. Ready to pick up next Tuesday.”

Turns out it wasn’t only Murtagh who had a plan - for when he returned home to Lallybroch, Julia and Fergus buttonholed him and sat him down in the parlor, where William and Bree and Faith and Marsali were waiting.

“We were thinking,” Fergus explained, “that because Maman and Papa did not have a big wedding - when Papa’s ring is ready, we can surprise them with another wedding.”

Murtagh narrowed his eyes at his eldest godson/grandson. “Says the man who eloped and didnae even tell his family until afterward.”

Fergus shrugged and exchanged glances with his wife, who rubbed her pregnant belly. “Fergus and I - we’ll have our big wedding when we’re ready. But Jamie and Claire are at the point where they deserve one.”

“They didnae want a fuss for their 20th anniversary last year,” Faith reasoned. “But there’s no reason why we can’t pull together something for them now.”

Murtagh crossed his arms. “I dinnae suppose you have a priest in mind and everything?”

Bree nodded, smiling. “Father Kenneth will do it. It’s all sorted.”

Murtagh looked at all the Frasers - not so wee anymore - one by one. So proud of the young adults they had become.

“Weel - Hiram said Tuesday. That’s five days from now.”

“Plenty of time.” William pulled out a much-folded piece of paper. “We just need you to be the distraction.”

---

“...Not sure why I needed to come wi’ ye,” Jamie said for the third time, in the passenger seat of Murtagh’s battered Volvo. “Claire has her own car.”

“All will be revealed.” Murtagh slid into the visitor parking space outside of the clinic that Claire ran, and pulled the parking brake. “Trust me.”

Jamie sighed. “I suppose I can still surprise Claire every now and again. I cannae remember the last time I met her at the end of a shift. Though I did do that a lot right at the beginning...”

The door opened and Claire - still clad in her bright blue scrubs - emerged. Jamie opened the car door, stood, and waved. Murtagh watched her smile and quickly approach them, stopping for a quick kiss.

“Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but I have my own car.”

“I’m under strict orders from Murtagh that you’re to come with us back home,” Jamie explained. “We can pick up your car later.”

He slid inside and scooched over so that Claire could sit beside him. 

“Now - seatbelts please,” Murtagh said as he shifted into reverse and backed out of the parking space. “I have six wee fiends back home who will insist.”

Jamie raised a questioning eyebrow toward his wife, who smiled and shrugged and took his hand in hers for the drive back home.

---

Jamie’s mouth hurt from smiling so much.

At the row of Fraser and Murray children waiting in two lines outside the entrance to Lallybroch.

At Father Kenneth waiting in the landing.

At Suzette and Mrs. Crook standing behind a table laden with cake and punch.

At  Jenny and Ian, so happy to be sharing the special day that they had missed the first time around.

At Julia and William and Bree and Faith and Fergus, who had calmly explained what was to happen and then produced his repaired wedding ring.

At Claire, still wearing her scrubs, smiling through happy tears as they renewed their vows - this time in the presence of a priest.

Much later, nestled against Claire and sharing a tumbler of thirty-year whisky, huddled around the fire with his children, the words “thank you” seemed inadequate.

One by one they rose to hug their parents, whispering words of congratulations, before retiring to their own bedrooms upstairs.

Jamie lay his hand - still bruised and with a few sutures still in place - on Claire’s knee, his wide silver ring shining in the firelight.

“There is no end to my love for you,” he whispered, holding her close.

She pressed her own left hand - with her own silver ring, Ellen’s ring - atop his. “And for my love for you,” she whispered. “No end. Never.”

He leaned over for a kiss. “Not ever,” he promised.

[ecampbellsoup]

Outlander Moments of Impact: I Will Always Be Your Wee Girl

For twenty years, Jamie felt the absence of his child. He longed, yearned to be with his bairn. He never expected to live without his flesh and blood; he would rather be slain on the battlefield than face that. Yet endure it he did:

“The pain of losing a child never leaves you. I’ve lost...two children myself.”

For twenty years, Brianna felt the absence of someone she did not even know existed. His presence lingered in the atmosphere she breathed. Unbeknownst to Bree, her Da not only created her, but his love pierced through time to touch her.

And after much sacrifice, pain, and loss, here they now stand, together on her wedding day. A day they have both dreamt of their entire lives.

This darling scene in 5x1 between Jamie and Brianna is a moment in time where love conquers all. Regardless of the pain of the past, they both behold each other in their truest form. 

Let’s break down this scene for some context, shall we? 

The day has finally arrived. Brianna is marrying Roger. In his care and intentionality, Jamie has prepared traditional gifts for his daughter. Full of anticipation, he goes to fetch her.

In her final moments as a single gal, Bree patiently awaits her da. She hears him approach and swiftly turns around to greet him. 

At the mere sight of her, Jamie’s jaw hits the floor. He is dazzled by the beauty of her. 

She is glorious. She is really here.

Bree sees what Jamie is holding. Touched by his thoughtfulness, she exclaims, “You remembered.” You care for me. You see me. She beams with love at Jamie. 

They both exhale, grinning. Jamie finally catches his breath and approaches Bree. He affirms, “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.” Bree takes everything in.

Nodding to his roots and time, Jamie then states, “And a silver sixpense for your shoe.” They both chuckle. There is a sense of timidity between them still, yet with each passing second, they fall into an ease with one another. 

Jamie then clarifies, “...from Murtagh.” Feeling his absence and knowing what Murtagh means to Jamie, Bree smiles and comforts, “I am sorry he can’t be here today.” I see you, da.

Touched by her compassion, Jamie responds, “As is he.”

Then grabbing his mother’s pearls, Jamie confesses, “I’m glad you brought these back with ye. I hoped that maybe you would wear them one day.” I’ve dreamed of this my whole life, m’annasachd. 

Turning around, Bree allows Jamie to do the honors.

Brianna knows well that this is a monumental moment; a culmination of every dream Jamie Fraser has ever had. 

Now facing him, she lightly touches the pearls, almost as if pinching herself. Bree is glowing. 

Overwhelmed by the sight he thought he would never see, Jamie’s eyes fill and he quietly breaths, “Bonnie.” Oh my child, you’re the most precious thing in the world to me. 

Joking, Jamie states, “I dinna imagine it’s quite the wedding you dreamt of when you were a wee lass.” He acknowledges that today likely looks nothing like she expected; one can almost sense his fear that it might be a bit of a disappointment. 

Bree laughs. Of course today isn’t what she had in mind. Yet, sensing his doubts, she pierces right through them, “Not quite, but the best thing is I don’t have to imagine you.” You are real, Da. I am going to marry the love of my life and you are here to see it. That matters to me more than any pomp or circumstance. 

Shaking his head with the wonder of her, Jamie almost looks in disbelief. He can hardly believe this is really happening. 

Confessing his burdens, “It is a blessing you came to me but having just gotten you back, must I give you away so soon.” He feels how tender, fragile their relationship has been. Right as they fall into rhythm, must they part? Must he face another loss?

Shooting down another lie, “Dad, no matter where I am, I will always be your wee girl.”  

Jamie missed all of Brianna’s childhood. He lost that and it is something he will never have. Yet here she says, no matter what we’ve missed out on, I will always be your bairn. No one can take that away. You will never have to lose me again, Da. I am not going anywhere.

In typically Highlander fashion, Jamie pours a glass of whiskey for them. 

He raises his glass to her. Jamie softly inquires, “Are ye ready, a leannan.” 

Knowing the weight of her words, Bree affirms, “Je suis prest.” I am a Fraser. 

Arm in arm, off they go to join Claire. All is as it should be.

This scene is dripping with sincerity; it is the truest essence of hope restored. 

Knowing what this father and daughter have had to endure, to watch them love one another is nothing short of beautiful. 

With every word, every smile, every choice, they are showing how much they mean to each other. They take nothing for granted. 

For so long, Bree felt trepidation with Jamie. Who is he to her? What role can he have? Will she betray Frank by loving him? What space does he deserve to take in her life? Does he truly love me? Has he always wanted me?

This is particularly powerful and singular choice for Brianna because she finally embraces Jamie fully as her da. Beyond merely acknowledging who he is to her mother, she blesses who he is to her.

She’s communicating and showing in every way that she can: I know you love me, Da. You’ve always loved me. I love you too. I choose you. 

And look at them now.

There is band from North Carolina called The Avett Brothers and they have a song that perfectly encapsulates this bliss: 

“My dream of all dreams and my hope of all hopes Is only to tell you and make sure you know How much I love you and how much I always did.”

-The Avett Brothers, Through My Prayers

[desperationandgin]

5x04 OR: How I had so many thoughts about Jamie and Claire that I ceased to exist for an entire weekend!!!!

first of all, before I forget: I started reading Cait’s first book club pick and when I’m like...REALLY reading I tend to shy away from social media because I’ll fall into holes and then I DON’T read. So there’s that, not that anyone was worried or asked, but! 

I also wanted to compose my thoughts on ‘The Company We Keep’ because it was a lot as far as J/C content goes and it ALMOST feels like overload because I feel like it’s the most we’ve gotten in so long??? So before I start gushing or WHATEVER, what I didn’t like remains the same - militia/regulators/etc. To be fair to the show, it’s the most boring part to me in the book as well, save for when there’s action involving Jamie and Claire directly. And to be even fairer, as I was watching seasons 1 and 2 I was always like ‘lol boring’ but now I go back and don’t mind it at all. I’m wondering if that’s how I’ll feel this time next year when it’s re-watch time.

The only thing that made me ???? was the weird ending but WHATEVER okay let’s just get into what we all care about the most!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I JUST DIED AGAIN????

So, I guess let’s start with Jamie not being able to stop watching Claire with wee Bonnie. Here’s what was weird: that he mentioned Bree and not Faith. I promise I won’t be one of those ‘in the books...’ people but IN THE BOOKS:

“I saw ye with the wean, Sassenach, riding. Ye’ve a great tenderness about ye always—but when I saw ye so, wi’ the bairn tumbling about beneath your cloak, it—I remembered, how it was, how ye looked, when ye carried Faith.”

I won’t lie, I really wanted that line or an approximation thereof, so there’s a tiny niggling of...I wouldn’t even call it being bummed because I LOVED WHAT THEY DID, but just a little like welp, I guess that’s what fanfic is for!

ANYWAY.

Jamie Fraser being soft for his wife holding babies really turns me into a pile of goo that cannot function for days, so jot that down. 

This is also how I like my Frasers - together and stronger for it. Not loving that they’re separating and the preview for next week has me like ‘hmm’ BUT just a couple more episodes and we’re in that back half that Cait and Sam mentioned SO many times 👀👀👀

OBLIGATORY FOREHEAD AND RING KISSES MENTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(is it just me or did Jamie have more scruff this episode??? y/y don’t argue with me I want it to be scruffier for my own fic purposes lkdfdsg lmao)

🚨🚨🚨 CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT ALERT  🚨🚨🚨

Claire Elizabeth Fraser, I am so proud of you. I feel like even a season ago, the mention of real medical advice being total bullshit would have Claire up in arms, being stubborn, pressing her point and arguing probably until Jamie has to come in and be like ‘lol sorry for my wife she’s English.’ BUT INSTEAD she quietly read the room and just noped out and I’m so proud of her!!!! She went straight to Jamie WHAT A RELIEF LOL.

Also...they made too big a deal of Fergus using THAT piece of paper, so this thing with the article was a red herring. You should not relax. You should not think that’s the end of it. Do not forget this even though they want to lull you into a false sense of security. It was too easy.

(I forgot to mention Claire and Jamie not appreciating Fergus’ jokes lmao. I know it’s been stressful but their faces were PRICELESS.)

Now I am not so gracefully going to segue to drunk Claire. Drunk Claire dancing! Drunk Claire being entertained by her dancing husband! Drunk Clarie stumbling in the woods! Drunk Claire ready to find a secluded spot to ride Jamie (probably)! And then Jamie, seemingly stone-cold sober is like ‘so what if we keep this baby?’

AND CLAIRE’S FACE IS WHAT LITERALLY SENT ME BEYOND AND KILLED ME. CAIT’S FACE??? HER EYES??? THEY WERE SO BIG AND THERE WAS SO MUCH LOVE AND I COULD FEEL HOW MUCH SHE WISHED SHE COULD JUST ABSORB JAMIE INTO HER ENTIRE BEING AND NEVER BE WITHOUT HIM AND RAISE 9405346 BABIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM HONESTLY CRYINNNNNNNNN AGAIN 😭😭😭😭

Okay

Okay, I’m calm now. I can do this. Only a few more thoughts.

Mom!Claire in full effect with Alicia was beautiful. She can’t help it, she’ll mother any young soul that needs it and that’s beautiful 😢 I love her so much lmao I’m sorry I can’t stop gushing about Claire, it is what it is.

Man of the hour Jamie Fraser, willing to go back to the Ridge and raise an infant even though he has plenty of grandbairns now and he hardly gets time alone with his wife as it is - let’s just. my heart hurts??? I feel like I have a stomach ache from how pure this is, how completely earnest he is. My sweet boy would do anything for his wife and I’m just. I’m a mess. I’m a wreck about it. This love is so BEYOND. As much as I thought a sexy scene was coming, this was that soul-connecting, pure love moment I needed even more. Forehead bumps, soft kisses, sharing their hearts with one another - it’s been a long time since I’ve felt so warm and heart-eyed after an episode featuring them.

And then there was the rest of the episode, and it was fine, and I’m sure later when I’m not up in my feels I’ll appreciate it all more. OH, but the Bree stuff deserves more than a gloss over - the Bree AND Marsali stuff. Hold on, let me add a paragraph about them:

I loved Sophie in this episode, the scene where she thought Bonnet had Jem was tense and gut-wrenching, and I said out loud ‘I really wish Jamie were there!!!’ (A thing I did gloss over last week was how badly I wished Bree and Jamie had talked. Why didn’t they???) And then there was Marsali, and Lauren Lyle was pitch-perfect. Marsali’s facial expressions, her confession, her actual point - she was so compelling. I would LOVE more of Bree and Marsali together, but I am THRILLED we’ll be having more Marsali and Claire, too. And Bonnet was definitely out in those woods, right? Ugh. I NEED JAMIE TO BE HOME TOO NOT JUST CLAIRE, PLEASE.

And there we go. That’s it. I’m composed. NOW I GOTTA GO WATCH IT AGAIN!

[wafflesetc]

I’ll be there for you II- Chapter 3 (previous chapters)

Big thanks to @missclairebelle and @happytoobservenolongerdistant for the tag team Katie/Katy beta’ing for me! I couldn’t have done it without you both. And to @thatsoccercoach and @walkinginland who have been ever encouraging with this story! I hope this chapter has been worth the wait.

The One with the Genetic Testing

I was quiet as I entered the apartment.

My feet were sore, my eyelids were so heavy I thought I was going to fall asleep standing upright, and by some audacious miracle I had a major headache to top it all off.

I was a literal, walking, hot mess. The night shift rotations were going to be the death of me.

“Ye’re home a little earlier than I thought ye’d be.” Jamie’s voice was soft and welcoming as I sank into the couch opposite from where he sat.

“It was a light night. A few admits, a few stitches, one trauma…” I answered bringing my feet up underneath me.

“C’mere.” He said in that one tone of his Highland lilt that was reserved just for me.

Jamie reached across the couch and brought my feet onto his lap. I saw the tips of his ears flash red and a devilish grin spread across his face.

“If you are about to rub my feet,” I nearly groaned in eager anticipation, “Then I am going to love you more than I did before I left for work last night.”

He snorted at that and moved to the balls of my feet. “Ye say that every time I massage yer feet.”

I laughed as I undid the bun on top of my head, letting my three day unwashed hair down.

“You try growing a human and being on your feet all night. It is bloody hard work!”

He let out a Scottish grunt of amusement and continued to rub the tender soles of my feet.

Lost in the healing powers of his touch, all the fears and worries about becoming a mother started to fade away. For a split second, I could see it- us in a house, the Highland hills rolling in the background with a Flash of the Fraser red hair from a small child. I could see a future I had almost never thought I’d have.

After a few silent moments with nothing said between us, I opened my eyes and saw a pensive look on Jamie’s face as he studied me.

Finally he spoke with nothing but utter confidence, “Ye’ll be great, Claire.”

He seldom used my name and whenever Jamie did call me- Claire- it was always something he meant to the marrow of his bones.

Feeling suddenly and overwhelmingly that some of my deepest insecurities had been exposed, I tucked my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs.

He started at me for a moment and traced the outline of my face, “Mo Chridhe.”

“Wot?” My voice was clipped, properly British.

Before we were together I knew Jamie was a man who was very in tune with his emotions, as well as those people he was close to.

Jamie Fraser knew me- knew what made me tick, how I thought, how I processed emotions, and why I made the decisions that I did.

I had been, somewhat, aware of just how in tune he was, but it wasn’t until we were romantically involved where I became accustomed to the fact he was hyper aware of just how well he knew me.

He knew me, my mind, and more so, he knew my soul. There were things in this world where my rational and scientific mind couldn’t process or find the words, yet he was there, and he could always find a way to say what was in his heart.

I’d be inclined to say Jamie Fraser knew me better than I knew myself.

He saw right through me. He saw right through the veneer of confidence I had been trying to keep afloat since I found out we were having a child. His unwavering support and faith in me made me feel cherished and safe…. Like we could do this.

“How did you know?” I put a small smile on in my best effort to hide my fear.

If I were to be honest with myself, I had never truly envisioned myself being a mother. My own parents had died when I was merely in grade school. I had been shipped off to live with my mother’s brother- Uncle Lamb. He traveled the world as an archaeologist, and when a child had been bestowed upon him, he had decided to bring me along. Uncle Lamb homeschooled me through all our adventures. We spent summers in Egypt, took hikes through Greece’s ancient ruins, went backpacking through remote parts of Central America, and spent weekends in Paris while he was at a conferences.

It was because of Uncle Lamb I had seen the ends of the world and all it had to offered. I had seen the wealthy, the poor, the healthy, and the sick. I had learned at a young age that I had been given a gift- a gift of healing- and had set my determined, stubborn mind, to put my gift to use.

Uncle Lamb was all I had really ever had in the world, and just as my parents had left me, so did he- passing away when I was eighteen. To honor his memory and the experiences he had given me, I had set out to go to medical school, score the best residency, and become a world-renowned physician. It would be me and my medicine- me and myself. The mere idea of motherhood scared the living daylights out of me. I wasn’t going to be a mother- that just was not in the cards for Claire Beauchamp.

That had been my plan, until Jamie Fraser moved in.

Jamie had changed and challenged everything I thought I had wanted for myself. He was the hope for the things I had given up on, he was the second chance I never knew I wanted.

When I looked into his ocean-blue eyes, I saw a future rooted in a firm foundation. A permanence in a life that I felt like I didn’t deserve, but by the grace of some deity above, I had been granted.

“The line of yer brows, Sassenach. When ye get worried, it creases.”

I rolled my eyes and stuck my legs back out onto his lap. “No fair. I have tells and you don’t. My damn glass face.”

“It’s one of the verra many things I adore about ye, Sassenach… But,” He took a breath and I felt his hands work their way to massaging my feet again, “Ye must ken it, right? Ye’ll be a good mam… What ye don’t ken, ye’ll learn… And we’ll learn it together, aye?”

“Aye.” I took my right foot and prodded him in the stomach.

“I am being honest, I give ye my word. Ye remind me of Jenny when she first had her bairn. She was worried about it all- having the bairn, raising it, the whole lot. But she’s a verra fine mother, Claire.” Jamie took my leg and raised it to his face, kissing the back of my calf. “There’s nay soul I’d want to be the mother of my children, other than you.”

I held my breath for a moment, hanging onto his words.

“Children?” I stammered, “As in plural?”

“Yes,” He laughed. His hands moving their way up my legs in a circular motion. “I’d love to field a whole rugby team. A dozen or so.”

“Twelve children, then?” If he had said this to me two years ago, I would have run for the hills, scared out of my mind, but now….I was more than willing to try and field a Fraser Rugby Team if he asked me to.

“If ye’re willing….”

“As long as you’re by my side.”  

We finished our sentences at the same time. I swung my legs back under me and twisted myself so my head rested on his chest.

“I do love you, you know.”

“I ken..” He kissed my temple. “I also ken there is something else bothering ye.”

“Yes…” My voice was quiet and I felt mildly embarrassed. “You know your family. Your mom, your dad, grandparents, sister…..”

“Yes.” His voice encouraged me to go on.

“And you know what your gene pool is like, for the most part. My parents died young, Uncle Lamb only told me so much before he died, and I am basically the last line of the Beauchamps as far as I know.”

“And?”

“It got me thinking….I was hoping you would be okay with the option of getting some genetic testing done on the baby? It’s minimally invasive. Of course there are risks, as there are with any medical procedure, but it is done all the time these days”

I felt his body stiffen in response.

“It’s not that I think anything is wrong, I don’t, but rationally, scientifically…. But I want to know. I just want to make sure our child is healthy. I know you might not be inclined to do it, religious reasons and just pure faith in our baby being okay… But I’d like to know, and I wanted to ask you. I want you to be there.”

I heard him swallow and let out his breath. A moment passed and then another. “Ye ken, Sassenach… I dinna think it necessary, our bairn will be healthy.”

I could hear the lingering but in his tone.

“Yet, I also ken ye will fret over this for months if ye dinna do it and I understand why ye want to do it. Tell me when and where…. Wherever ye need me, I’ll show up.”

It was in that moment I loved him wildly, maddly, and deeper than ever before. There was no man who would ever compare to Jamie Fraser in my world.

“I will,” I kissed the base of his jaw, “Right now just hold me… Everything else can wait.”

[bee-kathony]

McTavish & Beauchamp | Ch. 29 “Just the Beginning” 

a/n: This is the final chapter of this story. I feel so bittersweet -- this started out as a one shot, my first try at something canon related that I wished had gone a bit differently. It then evolved into my first multi-chapter fic. I wouldn’t have written more if you all didn’t ask for it, I didn’t expect people to like my writing or want to read anything of mine at all. This was all so new to me when I started. So thank you to everyone who has read this and encouraged me, it means so much! I will miss these Fraser’s, but I’m looking forward to even more stories to tell <3 and of course, thank you to @julesbeauchamp for calling this the ‘outlander we deserve’ and making me a couple of moodboards ;) 

Masterlist Here

4 months later…

September 19th, 1747

“Just breathe, Sassenach,” Jamie said softly from beside me. I’d been in labor since yesterday afternoon and I remember hearing that with the third child, it was supposed to be easier… not this one.

“He’s stubborn thing,” I groaned. “Just like his father.”

“Or a stubborn lass…” Jamie smirked. “Like her mam.”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I let out a deep breath as another contraction came, this time much closer than the one before. Jenny and the midwife were helping me — wetting my forehead with a damp cloth, making sure I stayed hydrated. Jamie hadn’t left my side all night, he’d barely slept either.

I considered myself to be a patient person, but when matters of my body were concerned and an immense amount of pain… I wasn’t.

“Do ye wanna go for another walk, mo nighean? See if it helps,” Jamie asked.

“No,” I said through gritted teeth. “I do not want to go for another bloody walk, I want this baby out of me!”

Gripping Jamie’s hand tight, another contraction passed. The last time I had given birth to our son, William, it had been dangerous for the both of us. I was scared and I knew Jamie was too. In my own time, I would be in a hospital with clean linen’s and medicines to help with the pain — giving childbirth in the 18th century was exactly what I’d thought it would be.

“Is there anythin’ we can do, Jenny?” Jamie asked his sister who had just returned with freshly boiled cloths.

“If she doesna want to go for a walk, aye, there are a few things…” she smirked.

“Well what is it?” I tried to sit up. I knew of a few things all right… and I knew why she was smirking.

“Intercourse helps progress the labor quite well,” she said and I felt Jamie shift in the bed. He was so nervous to touch me near the end, afraid that the baby would some how feel an intruder. “Nipple stimulation, and of course wee walks.”

I looked over at Jamie who’s face was red, “Well?”

“I dinna want to hurt ye, Sassenach… or the bairn.”

“You won’t hurt us, Jamie. How many times do I have to tell you this,” I smiled, cupping his face. “If you’re too bloody afraid to have sex with your wife, then the least you can do is touch me.” I reached for his hand and laid it on my breast.

“I’ll come back later,” Jenny smirked and left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Ye think this will work, mo ghraidh?” Jamie moved closer, pulling my shift down from my shoulders until both breasts were exposed.

“Oh yes,” I nodded. “I’ve heard of many women’s labors being sped up this way and of course by having sex, but…” I gave him a look. “My husband won’t do that.”

“Och, ye ken I want to, Sassenach… I just—“ He said a bit shyly as he glanced down at my massive belly. “I dinna want to hurt ye and I dinna want to poke the poor fella.”

Jamie moved his fingers around my areola, pressing gently and then firmer as I touched his wrist. My nipples hardened at his touch. Sex was the last thing on my mind, having been sweating and feeling like I was about to explode for the last eighteen hours.

“Jamie, will you try?” I said.

He bent down to kiss me, his hands moving to my shoulders. “I’ll try for ye, Sassenach.”

It took a bit of effort, but I managed to move onto my hands and knees — there was no possible way Jamie could manage to curve himself around my stomach and I was too heavy to straddle him.

“If ye feel any pain at all, Claire…” he placed his hands on my hips. “Ye tell me to stop and I swear I will.”

“I won’t,” I urged, backing my hips against him, feeling how hard he was. It’d been months since we’d been together like this, I knew no matter how much he protested, he wanted me.

Slowly and carefully, Jamie pressed into me and a deep sigh left both of our lips. It did feel different, somehow fuller. My stomach was against the bed, and I raised myself best I could on my hands as he began to thrust into me. He was being so gentle, so tender.

“It feels good, Jamie,” I encouraged him and turned my head to see him looking down at the place of our joining. I could hear it then, the wetness as he pushed forward. “Oh!”

“I’m almost,” he grunted. “I canna last much longer, Sassenach.”

Both his hands pressed into my hips, holding me to him and I hung my head forward as he finished with three more thrusts. Every nerve in my body seemed to come alive and it took all the energy in me to roll onto my side, collapsed and spent.

Jamie laid behind me, his hands softly stroking my belly and then I arched against him as another contraction came.

“That was quick,” Jamie chuckled.

Within the next hour, I was pushing, leaning against him for support and squeezing the bloody hell out of his hand. Once I felt the need to push, it all happened rather quickly from that point and now I lay back in bed, holding our precious baby boy.

“I told ye it would help quicken things,” Jenny snorted from the end of the bed as she gathered the used cloths and bedsheets.

“Aye, ye did,” Jamie narrowed his eyes. “Now, will ye go and get the other wee bairns of ours?”

A moment later, Faith and William came running in, excited smiled on their faces. With Jamie’s help, they crawled up onto the bed, sitting around us.

“This is your new baby brother,” I smiled and turned him towards them. “His name is Brian… like your grandda.”

The eldest Brian Fraser stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and I thought I saw a few unshed tears in his eyes. I smiled at him and he at me, then turned back to my children. I never thought I would have a family of my own — a distant thought perhaps in the back of my mind, but never did I think I would be surrounded by my husband and three beautiful children, all with a mop of red hair.

Ever since Brian’s return, we had all gotten into a routine of sorts. Life was beginning to take shape again and after so many years of traveling and never feeling settled, Jamie and I found peace here at Lallybroch.

Brian had grown healthier day by day, returning once again to the man he once was. He didn’t want to be Laird of Lallybroch anymore, it was Jamie’s duty he said. I saw how Jamie took on that responsibility so seriously, always caring for his tenants and family. Caring for us.

I helped around the estate with Jenny, whether in the garden that I had helped cultivate or with daily tasks inside. And once a week, I went into the village and houses nearby and healed people with cuts and diseases, using my knowledge in any way that I could.

We were slowly outgrowing Lallybroch, with three children of our own as well as Jenny and Ian’s never ending offspring. Which is why Jamie had begun building a smaller house just on the edge of the property for us. He said that while he was Laird of Lallybroch, it didn’t mean we had to live in the house. I think he mostly wanted his privacy from all the coming and going of the bigger house.

I had to admit, it would be nice to get away from all the noise that a big house and all its servants and inhabitants brought along with it. Of course we still had three children of our own that made plenty of noises.

I was up at the smaller house now, it’d been a month since Brian was born and I wanted some fresh air. Jamie came out, his shirt covered in dirt and his face with it.

“My Sassenach,” he kissed me and then Brian. “My wee lad.”

“To what do I owe the honor?”

“Just wanted to get some fresh air and see how the house was coming along,” I smiled.

“I expect in the next couple weeks, it’ll be done and we can be in before the cold comes,” he said proudly and slid his arm around my waist.

“It’ll be beautiful, Jamie. I love it already,” I said and then passed Brian into his arms to give mine a break. “Did you ever think that when we first met, we would have all of this?”

“Och, nah.” Jamie smiled as he stroked Brian’s small cheek. “I was an outlaw when we first met, on the run. I never thought I would live to see the day I would return to Lallybroch, especially no as Laird.”

“And I never thought that I would marry that dirty highlander with a dislocated shoulder,” I smirked, crossing my arms.

“I’m glad ye did, Sassenach,” Jamie kissed me. “I remember that night like it twas yesterday, ye comin’ in wi’ Murtagh, dressed in yer shift wi’ yer wet curls drippin’ down.”

“You bloody scot!” I hit him on the arm, “You just wanted to see through my dress, even back then.”

“Aye, I did,” he laughed. “Ye were so bonny and the I’d never seen anyone as beautiful as ye, Sassenach. Can ye forgive me for wantin’ ye? Even then?”

I pressed my lips to his, then laid my head against his shoulder. “I forgive you. Only because I wanted you too, from the start.”

++++++

4 years ago….

The strange man I was with that had saved me from the English soldier — the same one that bared a striking resemblance to Frank — pushed open a door to a small cottage. Inside was a group of men, huddled around a fire.

They spoke a language I didn’t understand and I began to feel like I wasn’t entirely safe.

A man rose from the corner, pulling my arm aside to bring me closer to the fire, “Let’s have a look at ye, lass.”

“I trust you’re able to see me now,” I said, trying my best to hold myself together.

“What’s yer name?” he said with a thick Scottish accent.

I decided to keep using my maiden name. If they intended to ransom me, I didn’t want to lead them back to Frank. “Claire,” I said. “Claire Beauchamp.”

“Claire Beauchamp,” he said.

“That’s right! What the hell do y—“

“You said you found her?” He interrupted me, talking to the man who had brought me here.

“Aye,” the other man said. “She was havin’ words wi’ a certain Captain of Dragoons, wi’ whom we are acquainted.” He looked over at me, “There seemed to be some question as to whether the lady was or was not a whoor.”

“And what was the lady’s position in the discussion?”

“I am not!”

“We could put it to the test,” another man said from the corner.

“I don’t hold wi’ rape,” the man beside me said, but I found little comfort in his words. “We don’t have the time for it anyway.”

“Dougal,” the first man said, “I have no idea what she might be, but I’ll stake my best shot, she’s not a whoor.”

“We’ll puzzle that out later,” the man Dougal said and then went back to the fire behind me. “We’ve a good distance to go tonight, we must do somethin’ about Jamie first.”

Escape was my chief concern, but I had no idea where I was and trying to find the road back to Inverness in the gathering darkness felt like a fool’s errand.

All the men had crowded around a man with red hair.

“It’s the joint, poor bugger. Ye canna ride wi’ it like that can ye?”

“It hurts enough sittin’ still, I couldna manage a horse,” the injured man said.

“I don’t mean to be leavin’ him behind.”

“There’s no help for it then,” another man said, “I’ll have to force the joint back.”

The wisest course of action would have been to keep my head down, my mouth shut and wait for the search parties Frank must have sent out by now. But I couldn’t stand there and do nothing as I watched these grubby highland men surround the injured one, starting to pull on his arm while he choked down ale.

“Don’t you dare!” I rushed forward and the pulled their knives on me. “Stand aside at once, you’ll break his arm if you do it like that!”

They all just looked at me as if they’d never heard a woman speak before, “You have to get the bone of the upper arm in the correct position before it slips back into joint.” The man Dougal moved aside to let me attend to the injured man.

He was covered in blood and sweat and I laid my hands gently on his arm, he winced slightly.

“Hold him steady,” I said to the men behind him and then looked at the red haired man, nodding once to let him know I was about to do it. I moved his forearm, twisting it and he let out a groan, “This is the worst part.”

He nodded, breathing heavily as I then took his arm and pushed it back into place.

“Taing Dhia!” He said, looking up at me. “It doesna hurt anymore.”

“It will,” I said checking his arm. “It’ll be tender for about a week, you’ll need a sling.”

“You,” I nodded to a man nearby, “Fetch me a long piece of cloth or a belt!”

“Fetch me she says,” he mocked me. “Did ye hear that lads?”

“Give her yer belt…” Dougal said.

“Takin’ a guess ye’ve done this before?” the red haired man I heard referred to as Jamie, said.

I nodded, my arm still holding onto his, “I’m a nurse.” Sets of eyes drifted down to my breasts, “Not a wet nurse!”

I took the belt from the man, wrapping it around Jamie’s arm. “You mustn’t move the joint for two or three days. When you begin to use it again, go very slowly at first. Stop at once if it hurts. And use warm compresses on it daily.”

“Alright,” I hooked the belt, “How does that feel?”

“Better,” Jamie smiled. “Thank ye.”

“Can ye ride?” Dougal said, tossing him his jacket.

“Aye,” Jamie said, still looking up at me.

“Good, we’re leavin’.”

We all made out way outside, now dark and raining. Jamie followed behind me and I looked out at the dark night, “Where is it? Where is the city? It should be visible from here…”

“Inverness?” Jamie said, nodding forward. “Yer lookin’ straight at it.”

There were no electric lights as far as the eye could see, so as much as my rational mind rebelled against the idea — I knew in my heart, I was no longer in the 20th century.

“Get yerself up,” Dougal came behind me, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards Jamie’s horse that he was already seated upon. “You be sure to stay close to the rest of us and should ye try anythin’ else, I shall slit yer throat for ye. Do ye understand me?”

I nodded, scared out of my mind. “Give me yer foot,” he said and hoisted me up onto Jamie’s horse. I sat in front of him, feeling his warm solid chest behind me. He moved around me, pressing against me, “Careful. What are you trying to do?”

“Get my plaid to cover ye,” he said. “Yer shiverin’,” Jamie said softly as he pulled the plaid around both of us.

“Thank you, but I’m fine really.”

“Yer shakin’ so hard, it’s makin’ my teeth rattle,” he laughed. “The plaid will keep us both warm, but I canna do it one handed. Can ye reach?”

I reached behind me, helping Jamie to cover us. I was thankful for the plaid he had and for the heat his body was emanating — he was like a furnace and for the first time that day, I began to feel safe, sitting here in his arms.

“No need to freeze before sun up,” he said.

“Sun up? You mean we’ll be riding all night?”

“All night,” he confirmed. “And the next one too, I reckon.”

We set off, moving further and further away from Inverness — from Frank and from my once chance of returning to where I had come from. All through the night, I felt Jamie’s arms wrapped around me and had to admit to myself that it felt quite nice. He was big, much bigger than Frank and I felt protected.

I found myself in a strange time, still trying to figure out just when that was.

“Are ye alright, lass?” Jamie said some hours later.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” I said. “Just where are we going anyways?”

“Och, we’re goin’ to Castle Leoch, still a days ride away.”

“Castle Leoch?”

“Aye, ye know it?”

“Sort of,” I replied. I had been there with Frank only yesterday and it seemed odd to be going there again, only this time alone and perhaps in a different century.

As the night went on and the sun began to come up, I found that my companion was still holding me tight to him — not that there was anywhere else to go. Thoughts of Frank were slipping from my mind as the cold seeped into my bones. At one point, I thought I felt something hard against my lower back, but shook my head, it couldn’t be.

But if I was honest with myself, the man, Jamie was quite handsome and more than once I had drifted off to sleep in his arms, finding myself dreaming of him in ways I shouldn’t have.

No matter where I was, or what century I found myself in — all I knew was that I wanted Jamie, this strange highlander by my side at all times. For when I was with him, I felt safe and protected — as if he would let no harm come to me and my well being. I barely knew him and yet I trusted him completely.

The End. <3

[adsosfraser]

The Stone’s Toll - Chapter Eleven

Read on AO3

They had been so careful. On the supposedly most fertile days of her courses, they had, well they had done other things. She religiously took her vial of posies and fennel each day and used the protection provided from her twentieth-century life. For months now. Still, it wasn’t enough, and she knew the only one hundred percent assured prevention was abstinence. She felt the ghost of a flutter in her womb. 

 Jamie found Claire on the floor next to their bed, her cheeks stained with tracks of tears and snot crusted against the deer pelt that her face was squished into. The chamber pot full of her sickness had been shoved away from her on the wood in her dejected anger. 

“Is it true Claire?”

 “Can ye..” he swallowed thickly. “Yer wee herbs can ye-“

 “No, that’s the last thing I want Jamie! God!” Her palms rubbed into her eye sockets. “I just wish- there wasn’t so much uncertainty. I could never survive- Jamie promise me, if it ever came down to it, you would save the child, not me.”

 “Claire,“ he levelled a determined gaze at her. ”That will never happen. Ever. That I will promise ye.”

 “But it might. You made me promise, should the time come, that I’d go through the stones. Of course, I was reluctant, but I did give you that promise. I followed through on it. Now you promise me.” 

 “Aye Claire, I’ll save the bairn, but it’ll no’ come to that.”

 “I’m going to instruct you. On how to help me. No matter if it goes wrong or the delivery is perfect.”

 “Ye wouldna prefer someone else? A woman?”

 “You’re the only one that I would trust.” She smirked in anticipation of her next words. “And you’re the one who did this to me, you can see it through.” 

 “Ye seemed pretty enthusiastic, if not overly pleased the many times I did that to ye. And I seem to recall the many times ye were the one clawing at me.” 

 She laughed at the big goof and then sighed into his embrace, relieving her stress and worry into him. 

 What if the baby never even made it long enough to make its true presence known? What if Jamie did have to follow through in his presence? Would she be able to survive the birth? She’d never given birth to a live, full-term baby yet. Or, even worse, would she be a terrible mother? When her mind drifted to these thoughts, she shook her head out of the daze. Stress wasn’t good for the baby. And if she constantly worried about her child’s health, her thoughts may very well become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

 It was March, and flowers and trees were slowly crawling out of their hibernation. Claire’s pregnancy felt… off from how she carried Faith. It didn’t raise alarm for her baby’s health, but she did have her suspicions.

 “What is it Sassenach? Ye’re smiling so hard I fear yer lips will fall off.” 

 “Well, I have been a bit… bigger than usual.” 

 “Aye, yer round wi’ my bairn. And I’m no’ complaining one bit. Wi’ yer fine plump arse even bigger than usual.” He grasped a healthy amount of said body part and smirked.

 “Well, I think I’m carrying twins.” 

 “Ifrinn!” All the colour drained from his face. “Two bairns? Two bairns! Sassenach!” He gripped her in his arms as joyous laughter rumbled through his chest and her feet left the floor. More words of love in his native language rumbled out and her eyes crinkled with her smile. 

 When she was absolutely sure it was twins, Jamie’s daily ritual of one kiss to her belly each morning and night turned into two kisses on either side of her stretched skin. 

 Not only did one life depend on her at once, but now two. She was terrified. Even with constant reassurance from Jamie that the bairns kicking in her stomach were braw, a twitch of doubt seeped into her mind. 

 To ease her worry, she thought of something that could reassure her. She traced the design onto the back of a discarded pamphlet. A pinard horn. So Jamie could hear the strong heartbeats of the babies tumbling within her belly. Fergus laboured hard on the project immediately, while his ‘milord’ was off working the lands of their croft. It was expertly crafted, even with her rudimentary designs. 

 Jamie manoeuvred the hollow horn over the expanse of her belly, brow furrowed in concentration. He paused over one spot and nearly fainted. 

 “Ah Dhia!” His eyes widened in fascination. “He’s really in there!”

 “Yes, they are.” She placed her hand over his on the pinard horn and slid it across where she thought she felt the other heartbeat to be. 

 His hands were shaky now and he choked on his tears, almost painfully bursting with joy. “Two braw bairns. Wi’ wicked thumping hearts.”

 They felt more concrete to him now, actual people instead of the imaginations of what they could be. He spoke every day to them in Gàidhlig, when Claire said they should be able to hear now.

 It was bittersweet. She was carrying them for over seven months now, longer than her other children. She was constantly caught between unflagging joy and unrelenting grief. Sometimes it felt like a betrayal to be so happy. But she carried through, with her husband and son by her side, and the promise of the future tucked under her heart.

 The day after Jamie’s birthday, she started labouring. Jamie commented on the decency of his children to not eclipse his day with their own arrival. It was as difficult as any other birth, but thankfully there were no complications. Claire had gripped, clawed, and screamed at her husband. She’d scream the promise to have him castrated many, many times. While she paced around the room, Jamie tried to assure her or crack jokes to lighten the atmosphere, but every word he said she turned it against him. He was silent after that, but then Claire would call out for him as each contraction ripped through her body. He stood behind her squatting form above the straw and she dug her nails into his arms as she bore down. A beautiful squalling boy was born after nine hours of labouring. William Brian Beauchamp Fraser. While she felt distraught placing the name Brian within the middle, Jamie assured her it was to not only honour his father, but now the child that they had lost, and she warmed to the idea as well. His brother met the world soon after, almost a quarter of an hour apart, looking exactly the same as the brother who beat him out of the womb. Henry Alexander Murtagh Fraser. Beautiful healthy boys, both with tufts of the same brown downy hair and slanted Fraser cat eyes. 

 They opted to have their sons sleep in their bed that night rather than the cribs Jamie had carved, tucked in securely between their parents. Neither of them could sleep and Claire was watching the steady rise and fall of each small chest. 

 “They’re real.” She whispered, brushing her pinky across William’s cheek. His lips tugged up into a smile, just like his father’s did. 

 “Thanks to ye Claire. Ye were braw.” He squeezed her hand, their arms hovering over their sons. “But I dinna wish to ever see ye like that again.”

 “Is it wrong to feel so happy? To rejoice in my sons while-?” 

 “They’ll be happy fer their brothers. I ken it. And they’re watching o’er them as their angels now. Lord knows how much these lads will need it. These two will be trouble, I can feel it.” He affectionately patted their bums. 

 Claire finally let her exhaustion take over and curled protectively around her son as she drifted off to sleep. Jamie never slept that night, too preoccupied with the sight of his wife and the children she had blessed him with. His wife learned just how real her sons were in the middle of the night when they would scream their lungs out unceasingly until attention was paid to them. Jamie insisted she rest and recover, and leapt up at every cry to take care of it, but was instantly horrified at what he found in the cloth swaddling Willie’s bum. 

 Fergus was elated the next day to meet his new brothers. Jamie and Claire had already spoken many times about how the new babies wouldn’t change anything about how they felt for him, but they could still sense some worry. 

 “Would you like to hold your little brother Willie?” At the indication that it was true, he had a little brother, all his worries vanished.

 “Oui maman.” He was so gentle with them with so much adoration in his eyes, and it made Claire cry just to see her boys together.

 He traded for Henry next and Jamie pulled Claire into his lap. 

 It was six weeks after the birth, and Jamie and Claire were equally ravenous. Both the babies had finally fallen asleep together, being unusually generous to their parents.

 “I need my wife.” He crawled over her. 

 “You still want me? After seeing all that…?” Her confidence has waned slightly. She was still pudgy around the middle and there were new scars lining her belly. There was also the fact that he had seen her sweating, cursing, and wailing like a cow on their bedroom floor before the fire, and had taken multiple peeks down there to check her progress. It was apparent, however, that he wanted her desperately despite of and maybe even because of that fact. 

 “I could never stop wanting ye Sassenach.” He peppered kisses across her abdomen and paid special attention to the fading purple streaks on her skin. The burns on her stomach had long since faded and were barely even noticeable unless one were to look very closely, as her husband was now. She let her knees fall to the side and a moan escaped her lips when he ducked further down. 

 “Now, as much as I love yer wee noises mo nighean donn, ye’ll have to be quiet tonight.” He covered her mouth with his, silencing the cries that he brought out of her body.

 When they both had finished, laying boneless on the sheets, Jamie pulled Claire’s back close to his chest and she curled back into him. Henry began to cry, waking his brother as well and throwing them both into fits of hungry wails. Jamie silently walked over, wrapping his kilt loosely across his hips and placed a baby in each of his arms. The sight made Claire want to ravish him with a sudden ferocity, even though they had just joined together moments ago. But, her babies’ hunger won over and she placed one on each breast. Jamie watched fascinated, as he always did. The babies hungrily gulped down their meal and then slumped against their mom, tired from weeks of growing, crying, and eating. Their tiny fists laid on top of her skin and Jamie slowly adjusted himself to hold Henry. He fell asleep, Henry’s body rising and falling with each of his father’s breaths. Willie stirred again, inquisitively staring up into his mother’s eyes. Claire stroked Henry’s cheek eliciting the same smile she loved so much, and then reached for Jamie’s as well.

 “God, I love you, Jamie. So much.” Her attention shifted down to the babe on her breast. “You have such a wonderful father, don’t you Willie?” She spoke down to her captive audience. “And I love you.” She kissed his small nose, then leaned over for Henry’s “And you.” She pulled on Jamie’s bottom lip. “And God how I love you.”

[renee-writer]

Murtagh and Rebecca Fraser

A/N A one shot from the Marine universe. Murtagh and Rebecca's courtship and marriage. It is sweet and fluffy with no angst. @ladymeraud and I appreciate all who read, comment and reblog our stories. 💓💓💓💓

She stands by the small croft on the edge of the Fraser land. A week ago, Robert left Lallybroch. In two weeks time, his sister, Rebecca will return. Murtagh and she had decided it was time for her to live openly as a woman.

He had found this empty croft and Ellen and Claire had made her a dress and the appropriate undergarments sans underwear. That will take some getting used to.

She had debated going back to the stones, back to her own time. But, she quickly realized that she belonged her with Murtagh. Her parents are dead, her siblings scattered, and she loves him.

That love shocks her. He wasn't her type, if she has one). He is gruff and rough, tender, sweet, and protective. So protective. She doesn’t require his protection. But, it makes her feel so special. “Ye will always have my protection.” He tells her.

So, a week ago, Robert said goodbye to the people of Lallybroch. Brian and Jamie are in the stables. “Mi'lords, I am afraid I must take my leave. My family in the colonies have sent word of their need for me.”

“Then ye must go. We will miss you.” Brian had replied.

She takes leave of the lasses. Claire, hugely pregnant, hugs her as well as she can, ‘See ye soon.’ She whispers in her ear.

The croft had been outfitted with a bathtub and several buckets of water. Murtagh, she had thought with a smile. She had quickly stripped out of her Robert personnel and slipped into the heated water. The soap by it's side smells of roses. Murtagh again. She washes her body and her longer hair, freed now from the constant hat.

As she remembers, there is a knock on the door. Murtagh stands there with four prepared rabbits. “I thought ye might be hungry.”

“It has only been a week.” She invites him in as she adds,” I have missed you too.”

“Aye lass.” He lays the rabbits down and pushes her against the door. He locks it before taken her lips. She can feel how much he missed her, against her thigh. And she still needs to syay her two weeks. Time for Robert to make it to the docks and send his sister Rebecca back. She moves against him in frustration. He growls.

“Ye sure a quite bonny in a dress Becca, but the breeks have advantages.” His hands cups her through the layers of fabric, finding her bum.

“Hmm,” She agrees.

“I must go lass. I dinna wish too but.”

“It is only two weeks.” They both sigh. “I love you.”

“I love ye Becca.”

Two weeks later Rebecca Paisley approaches Lallybroch. In her dress, her long hair plaited back, she looks nothing like Robert. The first person she meets is Murtagh.

“Hello lass,” He bows low,” Murtagh Fraser, yer servant. How may I be of assistance to ye.” All said for the benefit of the other people working in the field.

“Rebecca Paisley. My brother, Robert says you may be in need of a school teacher.”

“Aye lass. We've some orphans that need an education. Come I will introduce him to Himself, Brian Fraser, Laird here.”

She finds Brian where she had last seen him. With a courtesy, she introduces herself. “I was gifted with the surprise of running into Robert at the docks. I came back to my families homeland seeking employment. He mentioned ye made need a school teacher.”

“We do. And, as you are a relative of Roberts, I can't think of a better person for the role. Murtagh introduce her to her Mistress and then take her to the croft set up for the school teacher so she can get settled before supper.”

“Thank ye very much.”

She is surprised at how much bigger Claire had got in three weeks. She comes out to greet her with Ellen and Jenny, supported by Jamie.

“It is very nice to meet you Miss Paisley. My own bairns will be ready to attend school soon.” Jenny says. Claire hugs her.

“Welcome home.” Claire and Ellen both whisper in ear. Murtagh then takes her to the croft. It is also furnished with a tub as well as a spray of flowers.

“Murtagh. How lovely.”

“Ye deserve it.” He bolted the door. “Come her Becca. I wish to show you how much I missed ye.”

She quivers in expectation. She wants him too. He runs his hand over her chest and she moans. She can't recall ever doing that before. His hand works to cup her sex. Her hands run over the solid hard length of him.

“Now please. I need you now.” He lays her down, lifts her skirts up. They are both to impatient to fully undress. He is in her the next minute. They are almost late to dinner.

Over dinner, the Fraser's and Murray’s get to know the new schoolmarm. Claire, Ellen, and especially Murtagh, know her but, now she is fully Rebecca.

Over the following two weeks, Murtagh and Brian put all there effort into getting the school set up. Murtagh and Rebecca slip away to the Tower, the only place they can be alone during the day. They do spend every night together. Brian, no fool, notices.

The day the school opens, with a huge party, he pulls him aside,. “Murtagh do ye plan on asking for her hand or do I need to force ye to.”

“I wish to marry her. May I have permission to officially court her?”

“Aye. Tis a grand match.” Rebecca is called over and agrees to the arrangement with joy.

“I love him.” She tells Brian.

“I am glad. He loves you too. I've ne' seen him like this. It is nice.

The festivities are halted when Claire goes into labor. With the men pacing downstairs, Rebecca, Ellen, and Jenny, guide her through it. She is delivered of a baby boy, a bit early but hardy and healthy. Rebecca goes down to telk Jamie with tears in her eyes. Murtagh sees her.

“Why the tears lass?”

“I will never give you such a gift. I can't have children.”

“Oh lass. There is a passel of orphans here. They need parents. We can raise them. I wish too.”

“Really? You would be content with that?”

“Oh aye. Ye needn’t worry about providing a bairn. We will have more then enough.”

And she didn’t think she could love him more. She slips in to see the newest Fraser as often as possible, breathing in that newborn smell. She also gets to know her students.

When wee Henry James Fraser, is three months old, they are married. Ellen and Jenny make her a beautiful gown. It is white with blue embroidery throughout. She invites the older lasses, including the oldest, a sweet lass named Jane, to join her as bridesmaids. Murtagh does the same with the lads. Only the youngest, the three and four year olds were not in the wedding party.

She meets her kilt clad Highlander and takes his hand. The ceremony is simple but beautiful. The blood vow brings her to tears. There is a huge party after.

They dance with each others and the orphans who will become their children. Finally, they make their way to their new croft. He carries her over the threshold.

“May I undress ye Mrs. Fraser?” Their lovemaking had been mostly clothed, out of necessary.

“If I can you.”

“Oh aye.” They undress slowly before moving to the bed and making love slowly and thoughly.

Murtagh asks Brian's permission to make the orphans Fraser's under his and Rebecca’s charge.

“Absolutely. I will get Ned on it.”

Her first year of marriage is full of children. She both trains and educates the new Fraser's as well as the Murray’s. The lasses bulk, at first, at being trained to fight. She reminds them of what the Redcoats did in the past. They all agree.

As the years go on, Jane marries and lays their first grandchild in their arms. They educate and train all the tentants bairns. They also take in the bairns of those unable to care for them. They are never without a bairn at their knee, either their own or a grandbaby.

Looking back, she finds it hard to believe, that she, a tough marine, fell in love, married, and raised children with a rough Highlander. But, wouldn’t change a second of it.

The end

[yellowfeather84]

I know we're all excited for the printshop scene and what happens next, but the reunion I'm truly looking forward to is the one between Jamie and Bree. I'm aware Roger and Brianna are not fan favorites but I LOVE the relationship both of them build with Jamie over time, he really becomes a father for both of them. Jamie deserves all the good things, and I can't wait for his family to be whole again. And I *really* hope the show will not neglect Fergus as Diana did in the books. I love them all!

There was no doubt in her mind, from the first glimpse. She was at once surprised and not surprised at all; he was not quite what she had imagined—he seemed smaller, only man-sized—but his face had the lines of her own; the long, straight nose and stubborn jaw, and the slanted cat-eyes, set in a frame of solid bone. 

He moved toward her out of the maples’ shadow, and the sun struck his hair with a spray of copper sparks. Half consciously she raised a hand and pushed a strand of hair back from her face, seeing from the corner of her eye the matching gleam of thick red-gold. 

“What d’ye want here, lassie?” he asked. Sharp, but not unkind. His voice was deeper than she had imagined; the Highland burr slight but distinct. “You,” she blurted. Her heart seemed to have wedged itself in her throat; she had trouble forcing any words past it. 

He was close enough that she caught the faint whiff of his sweat and the fresh smell of sawn wood; there was a golden scatter of sawdust caught in the rolled sleeves of his linen shirt. His eyes narrowed with amusement as he looked her up and down, taking in her costume. One reddish eyebrow rose, and he shook his head. 

“Sorry, lass,” he said, with a half-smile. “I’m a marrit man.” 

He made to pass by, and she made a small incoherent sound, putting out a hand to stop him, but not quite daring to touch his sleeve. He stopped and looked at her more closely. 

“No, I meant it; I’ve a wife at home, and home’s not far,” he said, evidently wishing to be courteous. “But—” He stopped, close enough now to take in the grubbiness of her clothes, the hole in the sleeve of her coat and the tattered ends of her stock. 

“Och,” he said in a different tone, and reached for the small leather purse he wore tied at his waist. “Will ye be starved, then, lass? I’ve money, if you must eat.” 

She could scarcely breathe. His eyes were dark blue, soft with kindness. Her eyes fixed on the open collar of his shirt, where the curly hairs showed, bleached gold against his sunburnt skin. 

“Are you—you’re Jamie Fraser, aren’t you?” 

He glanced sharply at her face. 

“I am,” he said. The wariness had returned to his face; his eyes narrowed against the sun. He glanced quickly behind him, toward the tavern, but nothing stirred in the open doorway. He took a step closer to her. 

“Who asks?” he said softly. “Have you a message for me, lass?” 

She felt an absurd desire to laugh welling up in her throat. Did she have a message? 

“My name is Brianna,” she said. He frowned, uncertain, and something flickered in his eyes. He knew it! He’d heard the name and it meant something to him. She swallowed hard, feeling her cheeks blaze as though they’d been seared by a candle flame. 

“I’m your daughter,” she said, her voice sounding choked to her own ears. “Brianna.” 

He stood stock-still, not changing expression in the slightest. He had heard her, though; he went pale, and then a deep, painful red washed up his throat and into his face, sudden as a brushfire, matching her own vivid color. 

She felt a deep flash of joy at the sight, a rush through her midsection that echoed that blaze of blood, recognition of their fair-skinned kinship. Did it trouble him to blush so strongly? she wondered suddenly. Had he schooled his face to immobility, as she had learned to do, to mask that telltale surge? 

Her own face felt stiff, but she gave him a tentative smile. 

He blinked, and his eyes moved at last from her face, slowly taking in her appearance, and—with what seemed to her a new and horrified awareness—her height. 

“My God,” he croaked. “You’re huge.” 

Her own blush had subsided, but now came back with a vengeance. 

“And whose fault is that, do you think?” she snapped. She drew herself up straight and squared her shoulders, glaring. So close, at her full height, she could look him right in the eye, and did. 

He jerked back, and his face did change then, mask shattering in surprise. Without it, he looked younger; underneath were shock, surprise, and a dawning expression of half-painful eagerness. 

“Och, no, lassie!” he exclaimed. “I didna mean it that way, at all! It’s only—” He broke off, staring at her in fascination. His hand lifted, as though despite himself, and traced the air, outlining her cheek, her jaw and neck and shoulder, afraid to touch her directly. 

“It’s true?” he whispered. “It is you, Brianna?” He spoke her name with a queer accent—Breeanah—and she shivered at the sound. 

“It’s me,” she said, a little huskily. She made another attempt at a smile. “Can’t you tell?” 

His mouth was wide and full-lipped, but not like hers; wider, a bolder shape, that seemed to hide a smile in the corners of it, even in repose. It was twitching now, not certain what to do. 

“Aye,” he said. “Aye, I can.” 

He did touch her then, his fingers drawing lightly down her face, brushing back the waves of ruddy hair from temple and ear, tracing the delicate line of her jaw. She shivered again, though his touch was noticeably warm; she could feel the heat of his palm against her cheek. 

“I hadna thought of you as grown,” he said, letting his hand fall reluctantly away. “I saw the pictures, but still—I had ye in my mind somehow as a wee bairn always—as my babe. I never expected …” His voice trailed off as he stared at her, the eyes like her own, deep blue and thick-lashed, wide in fascination. 

“Pictures,” she said, feeling breathless with happiness. “You’ve seen pictures of me? Mama found you, didn’t she? When you said you had a wife at home—” 

“Claire,” he interrupted. The wide mouth had made its decision; it split into a smile that lit his eyes like the sun in the dancing tree leaves. He grabbed her arms, tight enough to startle her. 

“You’ll not have seen her, then? Christ, she’ll be mad wi’ joy!” The thought of her mother was overwhelming. Her face cracked, and the tears she had been holding back for days spilled down her cheeks in a flood of relief, half choking her as she laughed and cried together. 

“Here, lassie, dinna weep!” he exclaimed in alarm. He let go of her arm and snatched a large, crumpled handkerchief from his sleeve. He patted tentatively at her cheeks, looking worried. 

“Dinna weep, a leannan, dinna be troubled,” he murmured. “It’s all right, m’ annsachd; it’s all right.” 

“I’m all right; everything’s all right. I’m just—happy,” she said. She took the handkerchief, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “What does that mean—a leannan? And the other thing you said?” 

“You’ll not have the Gaelic, then?” he asked, and shook his head. “No, of course she wouldna have been taught,” he murmured, as though to himself. 

“I’ll learn,” she said firmly, giving her nose a last wipe. “A leannan?” 

A slight smile reappeared on his face as he looked at her. 

“It means ‘darling,’ ” he said softly. “M’ annsachd—my blessing.” 

The words hung in the air between them, shimmering like the leaves. They stood still, both stricken suddenly with shyness by the endearment, unable to look away from each other, unable to find more words. 

“Fa—” Brianna started to speak, then stopped, suddenly seized with doubt. What should she call him? Not Daddy. Frank Randall had been Daddy to her all her life; it would be a betrayal to use that name to another man—any other man. Jamie? No, she couldn’t possibly; rattled as he was by her appearance, he had still a formidable dignity that forbade such casual use. “Father” seemed remote and stern—and whatever Jamie Fraser might be, he wasn’t that; not to her. 

He saw her hesitate and flush, and recognized her trouble. 

“You can … call me Da,” he said. His voice was husky; he stopped and cleared his throat. “If—if ye want to, I mean,” he added diffidently. 

“Da,” she said, and felt the smile bloom easily this time, unmarred by tears. “Da. Is that Gaelic?” 

He smiled back, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly. 

“No. It’s only … simple.” 

And suddenly it was all simple. He held out his arms to her. She stepped into them and found that she had been wrong; he was as big as she’d imagined—and his arms were as strong about her as she had ever dared to hope.

[adsosfraser]

I posted 761 times in 2021

34 posts created (4%)

727 posts reblogged (96%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 21.4 posts.

I added 202 tags in 2021

#jamie x claire - 28 posts

#jamie fraser - 27 posts

#outlander fanfic - 23 posts

#adsofraser writing - 23 posts

#claire fraser - 22 posts

#outlander fanfiction - 19 posts

#fergus fraser - 19 posts

#craigh na dun - 16 posts

#claire beauchamp - 13 posts

#canon divergence - 12 posts

Longest Tag: 57 characters

#jamie and claire fraser deserved to raise bairns together

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Chapter Five ‘The Cheeseburger Dilemma’

“Milady! Milady! There is someone in the water!” Claudel shouted in his native tongue and shook Claire awake. 

 “Claud- kid, what on earth are you talking about?” Claire blinked away the blurriness of waking and glanced to where he pointed. 

 Sure enough, a bright streak of ginger amongst the deep blue waters caught her eye. 

 “Aider! Par ici!” Claudel flailed his arms above his head and rushed to the edge of the water. 

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(okay this is the last moodboard I’ve made, maybe I’ll just do a little shuffle of them each chaper)

60 notes • Posted 2021-07-19 23:26:06 GMT

#4

Chapter Three “for I have loved you oh so long”

Hampton Court Palace, June 1556

It had been weeks since their first, and last, encounter. Every flash of red and blue had her eyes chasing around, only to stumble upon a servant, or even once a portrait of a late queen. She was even embarrassed once to have her focus on what was decidedly not human, but in fact the arse of a fine red horse. It had promptly expelled its bowels of gas straight into her face before she could step away. Of course it would be an arse that reminded her of him, he was a complete and utter arse, flipping her life upside down just from one night in a chapel, one simple touch of a hand, and immediately leaving her sight. 

She had no idea what was wrong with her. Perhaps it was one of the ailments many women of the court seemed to succumb to, compelling them to never leave their chambers, even at meal times. She was mad, of that she was certain. She could not banish him from her mind. Maybe he was some spirit, some demon she had confronted not long after her encounter with the decollated queen. For what else but the devil could sway her so? 

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64 notes • Posted 2021-09-22 17:01:56 GMT

#3

greensleeves

Summary 

greensleeves. oh, why did you enrapture me?

During the tumultuous reign of Mary I, Claire and Jamie meet. A Scottish Laird and a French ambassador’s daughter would be the perfect match, they think. But, her parents have other plans in the form of one Earl of Oxenford, Francis Randall. Jamie and Claire’s relationship betrays her betrothal to the Earl, and risks her reputation, virtue, and her own family to be together.

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Preview 

Lallybroch, Late September 1757 

“James Murray, ye slow down right now! I dinna want tae be cleaning up yer scratches again!” Ellen Murray hollered at her wild son. 

It was nearing the end of harvest, all the crops tucked safely away for now and a chill settled in the bones of the estate’s inhabitants. It was likely the last day outside before winter cooped them up inside every day. The clearances and famines had long passed for the time being, but they could still feel their lingering touch over a decade later. But still, they had survived the worst of it. They always had. The long line of Murrays could attest to that. 

James flung his body like a ragdoll on the gravel of the expansive courtyard by the manor house and shrieked in delight. He was currently fending off a ‘filthy Sassenach’ and claiming freedom for his country with just the flimsy stick in his hand. It was the truth, though the adults often muttered it was just stories of ‘the faeries and make-believe’. He would defend his mam and home against the lobsterbacks for it was his duty as would-be Laird of Lallybroch.

65 notes • Posted 2021-09-16 23:00:40 GMT

#2

Chapter Three ‘Sorcha’

The last vestiges of day streaked across the horizon in angry scratches of red and orange. The storm subsided substantially before dawn, and Claire’s cheeks were lightly dusted red from the sun’s short attention. She had constructed a makeshift umbrella for Jamie earlier in the day, once the sun began to beat relentlessly against their unprotected skin. Her light grey windbreaker flapped in the wind over his back, held up by three short sticks and Claudel’s, ‘but not Claudel’ as he insisted, small jacket laid over the ginger’s calves, barely stretching out long enough to provide enough shelter against the UV rays. Fergus was fanning himself with one of the broad leaves he had found near the edge of the boundary between forest and shore. 

 Once more, Claire brought out her water damaged phone from the back pocket of her jean shorts and her heart fell again at the sight. Every time she mentally beat herself up for the small twinge of hope; she knew realistically each time there would be no change. But she half hoped it would light up again, with a notification telling her help was right on its way. Or even without a signal, that she could mindlessly scroll through her photo album to distract herself from the bleak reality she was in now. Now, it was only her reflection she saw staring back at her. And what a hideous sight that was. Blood caked her left temple and her curls were a mess of frizz from the humidity. 

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66 notes • Posted 2021-07-15 19:42:06 GMT

#1

Chapter Four ‘Limbo’

When Claire woke that morning, Claudel was tucked snuggly under her chin. His limbs sprawled across her stomach and a wet patch of slobber on her collarbone welcomed her in the scorching hot morning. Her mouth was full of cotton and her head pounded incessantly. She craned her neck as best she could under the weight of the boy and sighed at the sight of the injured man only inches to her right. His face was turned to them and his brow furrowed in his sleep. Not wanting to jostle Claudel awake, she slipped smoothly out from under him and tucked his jacket under his head. The hard case of luggage sat to her left and her hands sorted deftly through the items inside. She pulled out a large beach towel and a smaller hand towel to cover Jamie’s calves. She pulled out the floppy hat for herself as well to protect against the sun. Her windbreaker stuck to her skin in the sweltering heat, but it was better than getting terribly sunburnt. Of course, the only water bottle in the corner of the suitcase was empty. 

 She gave the luggage one more thorough glance. Now, in the light of day, a small slip of paper caught her attention inside the suitcase. It was tucked safely within a plastic pouch. 

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(I tried to dabble in adding gifs to moodboards but the size was to large and I had to compress it. So now the quality looks horrendous 😭.)

68 notes • Posted 2021-07-18 21:51:46 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Prompt: Where there's a will there's a way.

It Does My Heart Good - Chapter 1

Jamie Fraser’s heart had never pounded as hard as it did when his laptop chirped with an incoming Skype call.

With shaking fingers he tapped on the icon -

And his daughter’s beautiful, smiling face filled his screen.

“Hi!” She waved, beaming.

He burst into tears.

Her face fell. “I - I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He gulped deep, restorative breaths. Unable to tear his eyes from her.

“Dinna fash, lass.” His voice was so choked, so rough. “It’s - well, it’s the hell of a shock.”

She nodded, understanding. “I guess I’ve been looking for you for so long that I’ve had a chance to process it. You only found out about me when you got my letter a few weeks ago.”

“I’ve kent about ye since the day yer Mam told me she was carrying ye,” he rasped. “But I never expected to ever see ye. I didn’t think ye’d want to see me.”

Brianna’s brows - so much like his own - furrowed sharply. “Why not?”

He swallowed. “Because I - we - gave ye away. Because ye may have thought that we didna want ye.”

“You didn’t give me away. You gave me a life.”

Jamie choked back a sob. “Yer Mam and I - we were too young. I was running wi’ a very bad crowd. I couldna care for her, let alone you. So we did what we thought was right.” He sighed. “But I want ye to know, Brianna - not a day has gone by when I haven’t thought of ye.”

She pursed her lips.

“I always pictured ye as...as a bairn. Yer Mam mailed me a picture, right after ye were born.” 

He held up the well-worn picture so that she could see it. She did - covering her mouth with both hands in shock.

“I never pictured ye as a woman grown. I ken that sounds...weel. I’ve only truly had my life together for a few years now. Ye ken I was in prison for a long time?”

She nodded. “I found your record, when I started my research. That’s how I found your current address.”

“Weel - then ye ken I was in no place to support a family. Let alone give ye the love and attention ye so deserved.” He paused. “Yer parents - they gave you a good life?”

“They have.” She motioned, and all of a sudden two more faces appeared beside her - a middle-aged man and woman, smiling broadly.

“This is John and Isobel Grey - my adoptive parents.”

“Hello,” they said shyly.

Jamie swallowed. “I - I’m Jamie Fraser, but I suppose ye ken that. What can I say but thank you? Thank you, for loving my daughter, and supporting her in the way I couldn’t.”

John Grey shook his head. “You love her deeply, Mr. Fraser - that’s evident in the choice that you and her mother made.”

“It’s us who should thank you,” Isobel Grey piped up. “John and I couldn’t have any children of our own - and Brianna is the light of our lives.”

Jamie lay a hand over his heart. “I will never be able to repay the debt I owe you.”

“Nonsense.” John Grey waved it away. “We’ll bring you out here to Boston, so that we can meet in person. It’s the least we can do.”

“I’d be honored. I’ve never been to America.”

“And there’s something we’ll need your help with, when you’re here.” Off camera, Brianna rustled a stack of papers. “I want to find my mother.”

“Claire,” Jamie breathed, pain knifing his heart.

“I can’t find a record of a Claire Beauchamp anywhere. But you know her better than anyone - maybe you can help me find her.”

“I knew her well, at one time. But I was a coward and cut off all contact wi’ her after you were born. The pain was too much.”

“But you know her better than I do,” Brianna reasoned. “And that’s a start. I know that with you on our side, we’ll find her.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Jamie sighed. “Did these parents of yours raise ye to celebrate Easter? I get a long weekend - that would be a good time to cross the pond, aye?”

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Hiya, would it be possible to get another continuation of the Brian and Ellen Fraser AU please. Maybe a scene with them finding out Claire's secret? Or learning about Lambert and her unusual childhood? Thanks! This ficlet is so adorable!!!

anonymous asked: Will there be any more of Gotham’s Brian/Ellen AU?

Note from Mod Gotham: In Chapter 7 I did mention that Brian and Ellen know Claire’s secret - but I thought it would be interesting to write just exactly how that conversation went!

“Once they had returned from France, Faith still healing from Master Raymond’s miraculous intervention, Claire and Jamie still so freshly restored to each other - it was clear that for Faith and Claire’s safety, they had to tell the family the truth about her. Where, and when, she had come from. There had been disbelief, of course - but they had accepted it as swiftly as Jamie had. They didn’t quite understand it - but they believed her. All the more reason to protect her and the girls - all the more reason why Jamie willingly lived apart in order to keep them all safe.”

–

Brian and Ellen AU

–

For a long time after she finished speaking, Clairewatched the flames flicker in the fireplace, casting a soft glow on the richwallpaper and furnishings in the Laird’s bedroom. Finally empty of words.

 Four-month-old Faith snuffed against her shoulder. Jamiesqueezed her hand. Brian set down his empty tumbler of whisky with a soft clangon the table. Ellen shifted a bit, and a ball of yarn fell from her lap to thefloor, gently unspooling; she didn’t move to fetch it.

 “Do Jenny and Ian and Robert know?”

 Jamie cleared his throat. “Murtagh does. But no, Da –nobody else knows. No’ yet, anyway. We wanted the two of you to know first.”

 “Not that we don’t trust them,” Claire added softly. “Butit’s a lot to take in.”

 “Aye, it is.” Ellen sighed. “All of it’s true, then?About Randall, and yer first husband?”

 Brian rubbed at his tired eyes. “And about the Risingthat’s to come?”

 “Yes. All of it.” Gently Claire rubbed Faith’s tiny back.“I didn’t tell Jamie until after we were married. It’s why Jack Randall isstill alive. And it’s why we…insinuated ourselves with the Prince, when we werein Paris.”

 “Ye wanted to try to stop it, lass?” Brian reached acrossthe small gap between his chair and the settee, softly touching Claire’sshoulder.

 “We did.” She raised her chin half-proud, half-defiant. “Ithink we’ve been successful for now. But there’s no telling whether what Ilearned as history will indeed come to pass.”

 “Let’s hope it doesna, lass.” Ellen smiled at herdaughter-in-law. “Otherwise I canna rest easy knowing that Jack Randall stillwalks the earth.”

 “Ellen, mo chridhe,how can ye wish someone dead?” Brian’s dark brows raised in surprise.

 “Just that one man in God’s creation, mo dhu. Do ye want to tell me that hedoesna deserve to be torn to pieces, after what he did to Jenny? And to Jamie? Andto Fergus? And for nearly killing you, too?”

 Jamie carefully took Faith from Claire’s shoulder,wrapping the blanket – a parting gift from Mother Hildegarde – securely aroundher tiny back. “By keeping him alive, it assures Claire that she and Faith havea safe place to go, should anything happen to me.”

 “And did ye ever consider, ye wee idiot, that Lallybrochis that place?” Ellen sighed.

 Claire smiled sadly. “But what if one day it isn’t? Ifthe Rising does come to pass – there will be a terrible famine. Entire villageswill be cleared out, transported by force to the New World.”

 Brian nodded, considering. “So we must do whatever we canto prepare ourselves.”

 Jamie kissed Faith’s forehead. “Aye – starting with demarcatingevery single boundary line wi’ the neighbors. Ensuring it’s all properlyregistered at Broch Mordha. And then stockpiling extra food.”

 “But Claire – would ye truly go, if things got to be sobad?” Ellen crossed her arms, defensive. “Ye ken that Lallybroch will always beyour home – as long as Brian and I, and our family, are alive to care for ye.”

 “Of course!” Claire rose and stepped across the seatingarea to sit beside Ellen on the other settee, clasping her hands tight. “You –all of you – are my family. My true family. And Lallybroch is absolutely myhome.”

 “But Mam…” Jamie’s voice cracked. “Do ye blame me forwanting every option available to see my family safe? Even if it meant she leftus all behind?”

 Overcome now with emotion, Ellen squeezed Claire’s hands.“I – no. No, a bhailach, I dinnabegrudge ye.” She swallowed. “I – I canna tell ye how my heart soars, to see yewi’ such a well-matched wife, and wi’ such a beautiful bairn. To see ye for theman ye’ve become.”

 “You mean – the man you and Da raised me to be.”

 Brian met his son’s gaze, so unspeakably proud.

 “But could wee Faith travel through the stones, then?”

 “I don’t know, Da. It’s not like I was given aninstruction manual.” At the confused looks on the faces around her, Clairesmiled. “Never mind. I don’t understand how it all works – or if there’s evenany logic to how it works.”

 “She said that the stones make a buzzing sound.” Jamieshifted Faith to his front, holding her arms securely while she kicked her tinylegs against his lap. “And that she touched the largest one, the last time.”

 “But Jamie couldn’t hear the buzzing.” Claire bent overto fetch Ellen’s fallen ball of yarn, and began winding it back together.

 “Do ye mean – ye took Jamie there?”

 “He took me there,Ma – right after I told him this. Told him the truth.” She returned the yarnback to Ellen’s lap, eyes cast down. “He tried to send me back.”

 “This was right before I brought her home the first time,”Jamie added softly. “After Cranesmuir. We – we had only been wed for a fewweeks.”

 Claire turned now to face her husband, eyes bright andcertain. “He told me there was nothing for me on this side of the stones.Nothing except violence and danger.”

 Brian felt the electricity in the room; watched his sonswallow back emotion; watched his daughter-in-law’s face transform as shespoke.

 “He couldn’t have been more wrong.”

[imagineclaireandjamie]

This may sound crazy but imagine Claire went back but said No to Frank and decided to raise Bree in Scotland on her own. After researching and being sure Bree can travel, she goes back but comes at the time Jamie is living with Laoghire.

Jamie sat near the fire examining the head and handle of the broken shovel. He needed to replace the handle shaft which had split while he was digging in the fields. He had the new one ready but first needed to remove the broken halves and then reshape the new handle shaft so it fitted into the iron head.

There was a rhythmic thumping on the table behind him where Laoghaire and the girls were making bread. They didn’t speak, any of them, except for the occasional word of instruction from Laoghaire to the girls that they needed to do it more like this.

Jamie could feel Laoghaire’s eyes on him in those long stretches of quiet. He had dreamed of Claire again the night before and knew he must have cried out… again. He didn’t mean to do it and had tried explaining to Laoghaire that he understood if she thought about and missed her lost husbands––how could she not miss her lasses’ father? It was a natural thing to yearn for and mourn loved ones lost, not something that could be helped. But from Laoghaire’s pointed silence and the glare she’d given him as she walked away from the end of his speech, she appeared to believe otherwise.

But Jamie never wanted to lose that last grip he had on Claire. He stopped apologizing when the dreams came and he woke Laoghaire. He wasn’t sorry for them, after all. Pretending otherwise was becoming too exhausting.

Glancing over his shoulder at the table he briefly caught Marsali’s eye. She quickly looked to her mother and then redoubled her efforts with her ball of bread dough, her mouth pressed to a line, determined to keep her thoughts contained.

He frowned turning back to his work. The lasses deserved better than this awkwardness and growing resentment. There was a decision coming soon and he knew he’d have to be the one to make it.

Joanie made a small noise of surprise.

“Mam… someone’s coming.” She nodded toward the window.

Jamie set his tools aside and rose to answer the door but Laoghaire had already thumped the dough on the table, wiped her hands on her apron, and beaten him to the door.

The words “Can I” were already out of her mouth before she’d registered who it was on the other side.

“I thought you’d remember me,” a familiar voice said with amusement and disgust. “Jenny told me I might find my husband here.”

Jamie reached to pull Laoghaire out of the doorway so he could see Claire for himself when a second voice scolded, “Mam!”

Claire found his eyes for a moment before turning to the young woman at her side, taking his attention along with her.

Her skirt was long and dark and she bristled in the restrictive bodice and stays. Her fiery hair was pulled back from her face but not up like Claire’s. She let loose waves of it fall down her back and catch on her shoulders. A light flush filled her cheeks when their eyes met and he realized she’d been standing there gaping at him too.

“Who is she?” Joanie whispered to Marsali behind them.

“Claire?” Jamie asked glancing back and forth between her and the lass.

Claire nodded and Jamie took a step forward, brushing Laoghaire as he moved to pass through the door.

The contact jostled Laoghaire from her surprised stupor. She hurried forward too, keeping herself between Jamie and Claire.

“No!” she said emphatically. “Ye’re no taking another step,” she warned Jamie. “And you,” she glared at Claire, “Ye’re no welcome. I want ye off my property at once.”

“I’ll leave as soon as you return my husband to me,” Claire challenged, crossing her arms over her chest.

“And if he doesna wish to wo wi’ ye?” Laoghaire gambled. “He chose to wed me which is more’n he had when Dougal forced him to take you. And ye’re the one that left him all those years ago––left him to die and think ye were dead too. Why’d he want to go back to a wife who couldna stay to do her proper duty?”

Heat and shame rose in Claire’s face. The girl beside her reached out and rested a reassuring hand on her mother’s arm.

Anger had risen in Jamie along with a drive to act that he had been too exhausted to rouse for some months. He stepped past Laoghaire again and spun to face her, causing her to take a step back.

“That’s enough, Laoghaire,” he hissed. “Ye speak of what ye dinna ken the first thing about. Ye werena there wi’ me in the cave nor did ye follow me to Ardsmuir. Ye were only too eager to let my sister do the work of convincing me to marry ye. I assure ye, Dougal had the easier time of it, by far.”

“I’ve done more for you than she ever did,” Laoghaire insisted. “Where was she through all ye suffered? And her the cause of it.”

“But she was there wi’ me,” Jamie said with a solemn smile. He glanced over his shoulder to Claire and the lass. “She––and the bairn––have been with me every day.”

“Brianna,” the lass said, offering an awkward smile and wave. “The ‘bairn’ has a name and it’s Brianna.”

“For your father,” Claire added quietly. “Like I promised.”

“Then… you knew she wasna dead,” Laoghaire stammered, reaching and pulling hard on Jamie’s arm to make him turn and face her again. “Ye knew and ye wed me all the same.” Accusation and a fresh well of fury flooded her. “Ye bastard!” she exclaimed, hitting him in the chest. “Ye meant to make me a fool, to shame me––”

“I didna ken she lived,” Jamie swore to Laoghaire. “I told her to go when what would happen on Culloden became clear but I’ve spent near twenty years wondering did she get caught by the English as she fled or did bearing the child kill them both. I’m never meant to shame ye and I’m sorry if I have. We’ll find a way to make things right between us, I promise,” Jamie rambled desperately. He wasn’t sure yet what would happen or even what could happen. All he knew was that he wanted––needed––to be alone with Claire and Brianna. He needed to know what had happened, what had their lives been like and why were they here (and why now).

“I ken well now what yer promises are worth, James Fraser,” Laoghaire spat at him. “No a damn thing. Get off my land and know ye’re goin’ to pay for the wrong ye’ve done me. All of ye.”

Jamie bit his tongue as Laoghaire glared at him. He felt Claire’s hand slip into his and closed his own reflexively around it, letting Claire pull him along back up the road, presumably to Lallybroch. He saw Marsali and Joanie’s faces in the window briefly before Laoghaire slammed the door on her way back inside.

“Perhaps this is actually Laoghaire’s chickens coming home to roost,” Brianna said quietly, more to Claire than to him. They settled into a steady pace, none of them sure of what their next step should actually be. “She’s the same one who arranged to have you taken and charged as a witch, isn’t she Mam?”

“She what?” Jamie stopped in the road, fighting the impulse to go back and have another few words with Laoghaire about paying for past wrongs.

“It doesn’t matter,” Claire insisted, giving Jamie’s hand a tug. “Not now we’re finally all together.”

“How?” Jamie asked, starting them on their way again.

“At first… it was too painful to think about anything,” Claire said quietly. “I knew as soon as I saw Frank again that I couldn’t… Well, that it wouldn’t work with him. I needed to raise Brianna on my own terms and I didn’t have it in me to fight with him about it or watch him struggle. So I decided to stay in Scotland. She was born there and I would tell her all about you when she was little… And then one day she told me she didn’t believe me about our story.”

“Can ye blame me?” Brianna said in her defense. “Traveling through time and trying to change history… I wasn’t a child anymore and it wasna the thing to believe so wholly in fairy tales anymore.”

“So I started to look for you to prove it,” Claire explained. The way they talked around and through one another mesmerized Jamie, their conversation flowing rapid and smooth sweeping him away. “I had help looking for records of your having been imprisoned at Fort William and Wentworth but there was a mixup in the request paperwork and somehow they found you on the records from Ardsmuir. As soon as I knew you’d survived…” Claire’s voice hitched and Brianna took the lead once more.

“I ended up helping her look. We found more of where you’d been and how ye’d survived––one of my friend’s favorite legends was the Dunbonnet and it had never occurred to me that it might be about you. Eventually we found record of you at Helwater and… I dinna think we even discussed it at that point. We had to come find ye, I… I had to meet you myself. I’d heard so many of Mam’s stories but seein’ it like I did when we were searching…” Her cheeks flushed again and she looked away, down the road rather than at him. “It made ye feel more real and not just a story. I needed to know you.”

Jamie let go of Claire’s hand and stepped closer to Brianna forcing them to stop in the road again. “I’m glad yer mam was able… I’m afraid ye’ll have to be the one to tell me about yerself. I’ve had naught but dreams and hopes of what ye might be and the life ye ought to have.”

Brianna closed the remaining gap between them and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his chest. “I’ll tell ye anything ye want to know. We’ve plenty of time now.”

“Aye,” he stammered, swallowing the words about time already lost and instead letting his arms close around her as his chin rested on her head. He stared at Claire who watched with a prideful smile and tears in her eyes. “And we’ve plenty to figure and plan as well. I dinna ken I’ve seen so many possible futures in a long time.”

“Only one lonely one,” Claire agreed.

“Ye had me,” Brianna objected in a tone that made her parents laugh.

“Yes, and you were the greatest comfort I could have asked for… but nothing could stop my missing you,” she finished with a longing look at Jamie.

“Nor I you,” he confirmed. “Nor did I want to. To stop yearnin’ for ye would have been to lose ye once and for all.”

“All right,” Brianna interrupted. “I’ll go on ahead a bit and you two can catch me up when ye’re done with… with this.” She waved her hands at them.

Jamie had Claire in his arms before Brianna was out of sight, his forehead resting against hers.

“I dreamed of ye last night and I’m no entirely sure I’m no dreaming still,” he confessed.

“Did I do this in your dream?” She raised herself on her toes and brought her lips to his, her arms twining around his neck as he deepened the kiss.

“Aye,” he said breathlessly a moment later. “Ye did that… and more.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it later tonight,” she laughed but it became a sigh. “I’ve missed this––missed you.”

“The wanting ye… it’s never stopped.”

“Even after all this time?” she asked, a deeper question and whisper of doubt wavering in her voice.

“Especially after all this time.”