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hmproductionsblog · 4 months ago

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Bringing Jewellery to Life: Capturing Glamour Through the Ages

Jewellery has been an alluring part of our lives for centuries and capturing its beauty in photographs has evolved significantly over time. Jewellery photographers in India have witnessed the progress of photography, from documentation in its early stages to artistic exhibitions in the digital age. This article explores the key stages of this evolution through the decades.

Early Days: Birth of Jewelry Photography

In its infancy, jewellery photography began as a means of documentation; jewellers needed photographs of their pieces to keep records for inventory. The equipment used in the 19th century was pretty basic, due to which the quality and creativity of these photographs suffered. The photographs were taken with minimal to no lighting, plain backgrounds, and an emphasis on capturing the details of the item.

Mid-20th Century: Marketing and Advertising

Jewellery photographers in India saw significant development in photographic technology in the 20th century. With the introduction of colour photography and portable cameras, photographers saw the potential of jewellery photography as a marketing tool and started experimenting with lighting and backgrounds. These innovations helped in creating more vibrant and appealing presentations of jewellery, highlighting the intricate details of jewellery pieces.

Digital Revolution: Innovation and Creativity

With the advent of the 21st century, came the digital revolution which offered a new definition of photography. With everything digitalized, it became easier to capture photos, edit them, and showcase them to gain the attention of customers. Digitalization enabled jewellery photographers in India to experiment with different styles, backgrounds, and props. With higher resolution and greater flexibility for close-up images, it became easier for photographers to showcase the elegance and texture of gemstones and precious metals.

The Future of Jewelry Photography

With technological advancements, jewellery photography will enhance considerably shortly. Innovations like Augmented Reality (AR) and Virtual reality (VR) can change the shopping experience for customers by enabling them to experience a more immersive way of shopping and try on items virtually.

Furthermore, the addition of Artificial Intelligence (AI) in photography would help jewellery photographers in India to capture high-definition photographs and edit them using AI-generated tools. This would make it easier to handle tasks such as optimizing lighting, and image compositions, and even automating post-processing tasks, enabling them to focus more on creativity and artistic expression.

Wrapping Up Jewellery Photography

Jewellery photography has evolved through decades and adapted to technological advances, changing consumer behaviour and the fashion industry. From its early beginning of documentation and cataloguing to the sophisticated and creative expression of art today, jewellery photography has created a landmark, becoming a vital part of the industry. With such advancements taking place in the future, the possibilities of creative and innovative jewellery photography are endless. One of the leading jewellery photographers in India is Hitesh Malpani. Based in Jaipur, they are dedicated to creating impactful images that resonate with the audience. Their talented photographers excel in close-up shots, and elegant setups, bringing your jewellery to life through their artistry. Widely known in the country for their dedication to their work, they are your best choice for jewellery photography.

#photography #jewellery photographer #jaipur #delhi #india

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manekratna · 6 months ago

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anyluxuries · 7 months ago

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cy-lindric · 3 years ago

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hi!! i first wanted to say that your art has been really inspirational for me getting back into digital art and i’m incredibly grateful for that!!❤️ also wanted to ask what era of fashion do you tend to enjoy drawing and if there are any places for clothing references you use in particular? thanks!!

Hello, thanks a lot !! There are a lot of historical periods that inspire me clothing-wise and it really depends on what my current hyperfixation is. Obviously, I'm really into musketeer stuff these days so I'm deep into 17th century fashion.

When it comes to middle ages, I'm not super knowledgable about most of it but I love early medieval craftswork and jewelry and I use it as an inspiration a lot like in this. I also love late medieval/early renaissance clothing, so mostly 15th century stuff.

There's also a big chunk of time from the 1790s to the 1830s more or less with a huge variety of styles that I really like, it's kind of vague but what can I say !! They kept on serving ! I also love the 70s lol

As for references, I use online museum collections a lot. These days I often hang out on the Victoria & Albert Museum website for example, they have a good chunk of the collections digitized and tagged by era/type of garment, etc. I have a few exhibitions catalogues in my library that I use sometimes, as well as Racinet's Costume History, which isn't perfect but can help with grasping changes in silhouettes and so on.

And of course, portraiture is always a really good base so I compile a lot into pinterest boards, like you do.

#replies #wobots #of course when I mention those periods I'm mostly talking about France because that's where I'm from #there are a lot of fashion styles I love from other countries at various times but I'm not super knowledgable #and I wouldn't want to make this reply endless #period costuming #historical fashion

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sanstropfremir · 3 years ago

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what do you think of taeyeon's invu? (whether it's the album, song, etc.)

i laughed when people said that sm was copying fx and min hee jin's 4 walls. as if blue and orange are not two very common color palettes used, in general. i heard taeyeon did an exhibition (similar to how min hee jin promoted 4 walls) but i'm not sure if it was a direct rip off? but it was funny. i liked the initial teasers that came out but with the new sm creative director, it falls off very fast. the last teasers felt like a whole different concept. and then the music video... feels very borderline cultural appropriation with the styling and makeup. i remember when min hee jin said in an early interview that it was important for all things to connect in kpop, from the styling, music, video, etc. sad how that standard fell off.

i really like invu! mostly as a song but i like the mv and the album as a whole. i don't really think i would classify anything about the promotional campaign as a rip off of 4 walls, but more as something inspired by? personally i think holding an exhibition for the concept photography is a fantastic idea and should be much more common because photographers are the UNSUNG heroes of the kpop industry and they deserve so much more credit. also i disagree; i don't think the standard fell off in this case. taeyeon and her creative director approached invu not just as an album/typical comeback but as an entirely holostic piece of art and in order to see that you have to experience all the parts of it, including the exhibition:

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all the concept photos are taken/shot from the concept trailers that they did, of which there is one for every song on the album: no love again, some nights, set myself on fire, siren, you better not, timeless, cold as hell, toddler, heart, and ending credits (no teasers for the tt, can't control myself, or weekend bc they all have mvs).

to me the mv is at the same time the weakest and also the strongest thematic tie? the intent for the work as a whole is to be drawing from popular film genre imagery with an emphasis on old hollywood, which makes sense as to why there's a lot of 'vintage' references in the styling:

- the headpieces are floating somewhere in the realm of the 1910-20s:

the dolly sisters c. 1915-20, george barbier's le jugement de paris from 1923, a page from picture play magazine from 1925

- this look is pretty much identical to girdles from the same period:

corsets from a 1916 w&h walker catalogue, a girdle c. 1920s

- and the gowns all use shapes and techniques pioneered by madeleine vionnet, who was a very prominent designer from 1912-1940 and heavily inspired by grecian lines:

vionnet evening dress c. 1927

vionnet evening dress c. 1937

vionnet evening dress c. 1936 and wedding ensemble c. 1929

which is all very fitting because the mv is styling taeyeon as artemis, the greek goddess of the hunt. artemis lives in a forest accompanied only by dryads (tree spirits), and is often depicted with them or with a stag; so depending on your fancy the brown of the backup dancers' dresses is either fawn or tree-bark. in myth artemis is noted for taking a vow of chastity and rejecting all men's advances, with the exception of orion, a fellow hunter of whom the constellation is named and that she falls in love with. there are a lot of variants of this particular myth, but they all end in orion's death, including one iteration where artemis is tricked by her brother apollo to shoot him in the head while he is swimming. the main theme of invu is "i can't love you, even though i do," and this tragic myth fits pretty squarely into that.

the other references in the mv are a little more abstract but still run tangentially to the film theme:

the 'elf' look jewelry is pretty heavily art nouveau inspired, which was prominent in the 1890s-1910s, and was the primary aesthetic inspiration for the elves in the lord of the rings movies

the floating spheres and many planetary references (other than the moon, which is also associated with artemis), as well as the sand landscape looks very much like depictions of mars, are all reminiscent of high concept fantasy blend space operas like the fifth element, valerian, and jupiter ascending, and i'm hazarding a guess that the plaid/half skirt outfit is meant as a 'sci-fi' interpretation of artemis, as the plaid sleeves are similar to modern archery chest protectors and the boots are evocative of an astronaut suit (there's also like a utility belt pack on her waist?).

now do i think all of this is totally successful? no. personally i think some of the thematic connections could have been a bit stronger and aesthetically streamlined, but i can see where all the intent comes from. there's several ways where i think there were smarter and more interesting ways to approach the theme (and the theme itself could have been more interesting), because to me the installation reads very undergrad sculpture major, but i also have a masters degree in contemporary art and installation so. bit biased. but i do think they did a good job working within the established sm framework to create something with a lot of artistic intent and integrity as a whole work.

#kpop questions #taeyeon #taeyeon w #also the backup dancers acting as statues in the intro? great detail. also their dresses say 'same shit different' which. funny and fitting #if anyone is interested in fashion from the 20s and 30s vionnet is THE designer along with poiret #she singlehandedly pioneered the popularity of at least four dress styles that are STILL in common fashion today #(cowl neck/halter top/handkerchief dress/'slip' dress + bias draping/cutting)#answers #text #kpop analysis #tbh from my understanding of cultural appropriation its specifically about the minority/oppressed culture taken from #being continually discriminated against for keeping those traditional elements and not given the same 'coolness'/approval #by the predominant public who appropriated it in the first place (ex black people not being allowed to wear natural hair at jobs etc)#and uh. unless i missed something. nobody is being discriminated against for using neo-classical imagery #or dressing like a high elf in a tolkien-esque space opera?#also invu is SUPER divorced from even the original myth like there's really not a lot of traditional traditional greek imagery here #the idea that greco-roman statues were pure white untouched marble is myth perpetuated by academics in the neoclassical period #and there are instances of people actually bleaching the paint from statues. not to get all art historian about it but.#don't think neoclassism counts? unless there's something i'm really missing here which there totally might be #i mean i'm not gonna get into the origins of fantasy tropes but i do not think anyone is deconstructing this that far #and of course 20s fashion is has a fair few orientalist influences but i don't think that's what you're talking about #wow i just stopped putting stuff under cuts lmao

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fashionbooksmilano · 2 years ago

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Bernhard Schobinger Feuer über Wasser

Schmuckobjekte aus den Jahren 1968 - 1996

ausgewählt und von Kommentaren begleitet Bernhard Schobinger.

Fotografien von Annelies Strba, Nachwort von Caroline Kesser

Verlag Museum Baviera, Zürich 1996, Farbabbildungen, 108 Seiten, Auflage 1000 nummerierte und monogrammierte Expl., hardcover, text in German and English, 21.5 x 30 cm

euro 95,00

email if you want to buy [email protected]

Recognised as a key figure of avant-garde contemporary jewellery, Bernhard Schobinger’s subversive approach to making spans more than forty years and has earned him a reputation for rebellious innovation. His work skilfully transforms discovered objects into pieces that allude to past and present, precious and leftover.

03/04/23

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kemetic-dreams · 4 years ago

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In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Africa witnessed an explosion of missionary activity. The success of missionaries during this period was due in large part to the onset of colonial rule, which made clear to Africans the benefit of European education.

Robin Horton writes: “With the advent of the twentieth century … Europeans came to be seen as symbols of power, and Christianity itself came to be seen as part of a larger order, comprising Western education, colonial administration, commerce and industry, with which everyone had henceforth to reckon. These changes created a much more favorable climate for conversion.” (Horton 1971, 86). The provision of education soon became the main reward used by missionaries to lure Africans into the Christian sphere, and so much so that even by the late colonial period, nearly all education was still provided by missionaries.

The decision of where to locate foreign mission stations is of central importance for the empirical analysis. A number of factors played a role in determining a mission’s location. Among the most important were access to a clean water supply, the ability to import supplies from Europe, and an abundance of fertile soil that could be used to grow crops (Hildegard Binder Johnson 1967). The locations of missions also exhibited a form of path dependence. The routes of initial missionary explorers determined which parts of Africa were the most well-known

From these first stations, larger networks of stations, that together formed a series of trans-shipment points from the coast to the interior were developed. By creating these networks, missionaries could penetrate deep into the interior while maintaining access to supplies from Europe. The colonial railway network also provided an additional means of remaining connected with Europe, and therefore was another factor that affected mission locations.

The final factor of importance was the slave trade. Missionaries sought to bring an end to the slave trade within Africa, and thus a concerted effort was made to locate mission stations in areas where slavery was prevalent (Johnson 1967). In the analysis, I am careful to control for these potential determinants of the locations of mission stations. If these factors have an independent impact on long-term conversion, then not properly accounting

The early planters of Christianity did not intend to enter into the thoughts world and patterns of the Africans, into their religious psychology, their ethos, and ethical conceptions and values. Struck and shocked by those gross and transient aspects of our culture, the missionaries shuddered and glossed over the positive merits of our cultural institutions.

Christian missionaries in their invisible if inculpable anthropological ignorance of the Africans conceived or seemed to have conceived their mission as that of imparting not only the Christian religion, but also culture and civilization-and the Western civilization precisely. The battle of the cross and the crescent and other local studies revealed certain major characteristics which formed a pattern in missionary expansion.

When the humanitarians and evangelicals turned their attention to overseas mission and away from alleviating the dismal by-products of early industrialization in England, they had to depend on the aid of the colonial governments.

Toyin Falola asserts that there were some missionaries who believed that "the agenda of colonialism in Africa was similar to that of Christianity".

Falola cites Jan H. Boer of the Sudan United Mission as saying, "Colonialism is a form of imperialism based on a divine mandate and designed to bring liberation – spiritual, cultural, economic and political – by sharing the blessings of the Christ-inspired civilization of the West with a people suffering under satanic oppression, ignorance and disease, effected by a combination of political, economic and religious forces that cooperate under a regime seeking the benefit of both ruler and ruled.

Edward Andrews writes: Historians have traditionally looked at Christian missionaries in one of two ways. The first church historians to catalogue missionary history provided hagiographic descriptions of their trials, successes, and sometimes even martyrdom. Missionaries were thus visible saints, exemplars of ideal piety in a sea of persistent savagery. However, by the middle of the twentieth century, an era marked by civil rights movements, anti-colonialism, and growing secularization, missionaries were viewed quite differently. Instead of godly martyrs, historians now described missionaries as arrogant and rapacious imperialists.

Christianity became not a saving grace but a monolithic and aggressive force that missionaries imposed upon defiant natives. Indeed, missionaries were now understood as important agents in the ever-expanding nation-state, or "ideological shock troops for colonial invasion whose zealotry blinded them

Adriaan van Oss wrote: If we had to choose a single, irreducible idea underlying Spanish colonialism in the New World, it would undoubtedly be the propagation of the Catholic faith.

Unlike such other European colonizing powers as England or the Netherlands, Spain insisted on converting the natives of the lands it conquered to its state religion. Miraculously, it succeeded.

Introduced in the context of Iberian expansionism, Catholicism outlived the empire itself and continues to thrive, not as an anachronistic vestige among the elite, but as a vital current even in remote mountain villages. Catholic Christianity remains the principal colonial heritage of Spain in America. More than any set of economic relationships with the outside world, more even than the language first brought to America's shores in 1492, the Catholic religion continues to permeate Spanish-American culture today, creating an overriding cultural unity which transcends the political and national boundaries dividing the continent.

The Native Americans only gave way to the force of the European after they were overcome with the diseases the Europeans had spread. The Evangelization of the natives in the Americas began with private colonization. The Crown tried to establish rules to protect the natives against any unjust war of conquest. The Spanish could start a war against those who rejected the kings authority and who were aware and also rejected Christianity. There was a doctrine developed that allowed the conquest of natives if they were uncivilized.

Friars and Jesuits learned native languages instead of teaching the natives Spanish because they were trying to protect them from the colonists’ negative influences. In addition, the missionaries felt it was important to show the positive aspects of the new religion to the natives after the epidemics and harsh conquest that had just occurred

The Spanish were the first of the future European countries to colonize North and South America. They came into the region predominantly through Cuba and Puerto Rico and into Florida. The Spaniards were committed, by Vatican decree, to convert their New World indigenous subjects to Catholicism. However, often initial efforts (both docile and coerced) were questionably successful, as the indigenous people added Catholicism into their longstanding traditional ceremonies and beliefs.

The many native expressions, forms, practices, and items of art could be considered idolatry and prohibited or destroyed by Spanish missionaries, military, and civilians. This included religious items, sculptures, and jewelry made of gold or silver, which were melted down before shipment to Spain.

Though the Spanish did not impose their language to the extent they did their religion, some indigenous languages of the Americas evolved into replacement with Spanish, and lost to present day tribal members. When more efficient they did evangelize in native languages. The introduction of writing systems to the Quechua, Nahuatl and Guarani peoples may have contributed to their expansion.

In the early years most mission work was undertaken by the religious orders. Over time it was intended that a normal church structure would be established in the mission areas. The process began with the formation of special jurisdictions, known as apostolic prefectures and apostolic vicariates. These developing churches eventually graduated to regular diocesan status with the appointment of a local bishop. After decolonization, this process increased in pace as church structures altered to reflect new political-administrative realities.

Ralph Bauer describes the Franciscan missionaries as having been "unequivocally committed to Spanish imperialism, condoning the violence and coercion of the Conquest as the only viable method of bringing American natives under the saving rule of Christianity." Jordan writes "The catastrophe of Spanish America's rape at the hands of the Conquistadors remains one of the most potent and pungent examples in the entire history of human conquest of the wanton destruction of one culture by another in the name of religion

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dangerouscommiesubversive · 3 years ago

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the chances i've lost, opportunities tossed away and into the blue

Fandoms: Kamen Rider Decade, Kaitou Sentai Lupinranger Vs Keisatsu Sentai Patranger Characters: Kaitou Daiki, Takao Noël Song: "Sunrise," Petra Haden (playlist here)

The French boy’s in love with him.

Really, Daiki knows that it’s unfair to think of Nicky as a boy. He’s twenty-one, he’s an adult, and for that matter Daiki’s only a couple of years older than him. And he’s hiding something—Daiki hasn’t figured out what it is yet, but sometimes he gets this look, like he’s got a secret sorrow tucked away in his heart.

Don’t we all, Daiki thinks. Someday Tsukasa will track him down, or he’ll track Tsukasa down, and they’ll have it out finally, and then they’ll go home together, and in the meantime he doesn’t intend to drag this innocent friend of his into the mess of superheroic politics. If nothing else he’d like to save Nicky the aches one picks up from superhero work; he never would have let spite get the better of him if he’d known that getting in the Big Machine would leave him with a persistent twinge in one shoulder.

“You aren’t listening to me,” Nicky says pleasantly, jolting him out of his daydream. “Thinking about your ex again?”

Daiki grins wryly at him. “You know it. I’m sorry. What were we talking about, again?”

“I still don’t think he deserves this much space in your heart, my friend, not after how he treated you.” Nicky’s taking advantage of the sunny day to work on something while they linger over their coffee, turning some little gadget over in his hands and making tiny adjustments to it with a pair of jeweler’s tweezers. “Why don’t you have dinner with me, and I’ll make you forget about him?”

On some level it’s a tempting offer. Daiki can easily picture taking Nicky up on it and letting himself be treated gently for a bit, going to dinner and walking in the moonlight and falling into bed. They’re in Paris, after all, it’s an inherently romantic city in every World that has one.

“Unfortunately,” he says, as that sweet imagining is interrupted by the wild hope that that might be what it takes to make Tsukasa show up, “I don’t think that’d be fair to you. Not to downplay your charms, Nicky, but I’m well and truly stuck.”

“Suit yourself,” Nicky says, sounding light but looking wounded. “The offer stands if you ever come to your senses. I promise you, I’ll treat you better than he ever did. Anyway, we were talking about that exhibit coming up, at that gallery? I was thinking of going, were you?”

“I was, actually, it looks intriguing.” Daiki’s looked through the exhibition catalogue already; there’s going to be a treasure on display that he’s dying to get his hands on. “Is there anything in particular that interests you in it? Oh, and did you hear about the burglary at that jewelry store two nights ago?”

---

It would be Noël’s luck, wouldn’t it, to meet the most beautiful man on Earth and discover that he’s still in love with a mob boss who cheated on him.

Not looking up from the Collection piece he’s adjusting, he says, “Of course I heard about the jewelry shop robbery, it’s been all over the news. Do they have a suspect yet, did you hear?” He has to keep his tone light—there is, after all, the possibility that Dion’s figured out that it was him. “Anyway, the gallery exhibit, there are a few pieces that caught my eye when I looked at the website. Perhaps we could go together?”

“Mm.” Dion raises an eyebrow. “I’d love to, as long as we’re clear that it’s not a date.”

Noël wants to say something teasing and suave, “Would I trick you like that?” or something else that sounds like what Arsène might say, but what comes out instead is, pathetically, “You won’t even consider it?”

Almost as bad is Dion’s response, which is to reach across the table and brush a lock of hair out of Noël’s eyes and say, “Trust me, I’ve considered it, but it wouldn’t be fair to you. You deserve someone who isn’t stuck on an old flame.”

Privately, Noël has to admit that it wouldn’t be fair to Dion either, to take the man on one or two dates and then have to sit him down and say, “My name isn’t Nicky, it’s Noël, and I’m not actually a rich kid with too much time on his hands, I’m actually working to try to figure out how to retrieve a group of priceless magical gadgets from a group of interdimensional gangsters so that I can resurrect my father, who happens to be the famed thief Arsène Lupin.” Dion doesn’t deserve to be dragged into his dangerous nonsense.

Out loud, he says, “Mm.”

“So, this exhibit. Opening night’s on Friday, would you like to go then? Or would you prefer sometime when it’ll be quieter?”

A quieter night would be better for scoping out the Lupin Collection piece that the gallery owner’s somehow gotten her hands on, but there’s more chance of his casing the place being noticed as well, so Noël nods. “Opening night would be nice, I’ll buy you dinner. Non-romantically.”

“How about we play cards for the pleasure later? I promise I won’t cheat if you won’t.” Dion grins at him. “Anyway, we’re seeing something of a crime wave this summer, aren’t way? There was the jewelry store, that artist’s studio was broken into last week, I hear there was an attempt at the Arts et Métiers before that…”

The museum theft was also him, but the studio theft remains a mystery. Noël struggles to hide a smile. “I promise you, it’s not normally so bad here.”

“Really? I’m shocked it’s not usually worse, it seems like this city is full of treasure ripe for the picking.”

And isn’t that an odd look on Dion’s face, as if he’s trying to hide laughter of his own, and Noël can’t help but lose the little self-control he was exerting and smile in response. “Yes, it’s quite the collection, don’t you think? But no, it’s not normally nearly so bad, I can’t imagine what changed.”

#kaitou daiki #takao noel #fanfiction #30 day shuffle challenge

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jepsolell · 3 years ago

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🧒🏻Con la dulzura de esta academia de Simó Gómez Polo (1845-1880) os anunciamos nuestra próxima subasta de verano: la celebraremos el jueves 15 de julio a las 16:00h y como siempre, la podréis seguir em streaming o en sala. Con un montante actual de 550 lotes ya catalogados esperamos sorprenderos con más de 650 entre joyas, relojes, antigüedades, arte oriental, pintura y escultura. ¡La semana que viene catálogo online, y a partir del 5 de julio exposición! - 📌Recordad que mientras disponéis en el link de la bio más de 300 lotes a subasta online preparados para recibir vuestras pujas. (SUBASTAS ONLINE). - 🧒🏻With the sweetness of this academy of Simó Gómez Polo (1845-1880) we announce our next summer auction: we will celebrate it on Thursday July 15 at 16:00h and as always, you can follow it in streaming or in room. With a current amount of 550 lots already catalogued, we hope to surprise you with more than 650 lots among jewelry, watches, antiques, oriental art, painting and sculpture. Next week online catalog, and from July 5 exhibition! - 📌Remember that while you have in the link of the bio more than 300 lots to online auction ready to receive your bids. (ONLINE AUCTIONS). (en Subarna) https://www.instagram.com/p/CQMA3uMHdb2/?utm_medium=tumblr

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rokutouxei · 4 years ago

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you are still the sun that shines for me

part 8 of atelier heart

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theo van gogh/mc | G | 2793 | [ao3 in bio]

Life couldn’t get any better. You enjoy what you do here, spending your life without regrets with the person you love the most. That is, until you meet her. The woman who still loves Theo.

CHAPTER 4

You and Theo rarely work Sundays. It’s a rule—practicing work-life balance is important, the both of you say. Sundays are for taking King out for a walk or joining Vincent out for a little painting session in the flower fields.

Today, Theo asks you if you could sleep in a little longer.

By “sleep in” he means not get up at 7:00 am, which is about the time Sebastian asks for your help in the kitchen. This is a luxury that neither of you have afforded in some time—mostly because Theo is a workaholic, but also partially because you’ve gotten so used to the rhythm of life in the mansion—so this occurrence is special. He holds you by the wrist when you’ve gotten up and asks you to stay in bed.

You do.

Let yourself get tucked into his still sleep-warm arms, even if your mind is elsewhere. Last week’s little chat in the café had broken down the wall between the both of you, but you were still standing outside the boundary of it, wondering if it is now right to enter. Maybe, you think, maybe it is okay to sleep in, just a little longer, to delay what is… inevitable, today that you’ve decided to talk to Theo about it.

About his little Vincent.

You take a deep breath that comes out so shakily, you know Theo can notice it with your proximity. But there hasn’t been any hiding about all of this from the beginning, anyway, just the illusion of it. You know you are transparent to him the same way he is transparent to you.

The both of you are just waiting for your voices to come back.

You’ll just...take it slowly today. Find a quiet moment alone with Theo. Maybe not this early in the morning, but maybe in the late afternoon. You’re sure you’ll find an exactly right time to bring it up to him.

What should you say? Maybe you should apologize, first, for prying, for having carried this with you since that day at the exhibit a full two months before, so short and yet so long back it feels like a different lifetime ago. Of course, you won’t be telling him about the conversation with Vincent, at the cliffside, but maybe you should tell him about what you’d learned from the boy Vincent, maybe—

“Can’t sleep?”

His voice drags you back into reality, your eyes refocusing to see how close his face is, his beautiful sea-blue eyes. The familiar ones you’d seen on someone else.

“Just a little...distracted,” you offer.

Your heart is up your throat all at once. Should you bring it up now? You’d already been procrastinating on telling him about this for an irresponsible amount of time—no, you were waiting for him to be ready, maybe?—so you may as well do it now, right? Just tell him how you feel about it. He’s basically already asking you what’s wrong. This is your chance to say it. You’ve been waiting for this. You can’t keep sitting on this secret forever.

But before the words come out of your mouth, Theo speaks.

“Come with me out today, won’t you?”

You blink. All your resolution dissolves into thin air at the missed chance.

“Work? Yeah, sure, I can help.”

“I have something to pick up at the atelier, after lunch. I want you to see it, too.”

You nod, pressing your face against his neck. “Yeah. Sure.”

Inhaling his scent, feeling his warmth, relishing in his touch, you try to banish the thought of some other woman in his arms just like this, just like how he held you, how he’d promised the world to her too, maybe. How he’d married her just like that, and how you’re just… here. You try to let the thoughts come up in a cloud of smoke. Later, you tell yourself. Later.

Theo rubs a comforting circle on your lower back.

You leave the house after lunch. Arthur sends you and Theo off with a round of teasing that you do not understand, but one that seems to set Theo on edge—you don’t know why yet. Once you exit the carriage, you see the warm spring sun basking the streets in a golden light. It’s a Wednesday, an ordinary day, and the streets of Paris are the same as they’ve always been. Parents walking around town with their children. Busybodies rushing past. Carriages crawl up and down the avenue. You whiff the delicious smell of your favorite pancakes when you pass by your favorite café.

You think of all the memories you’ve made in this city. Down that corner, in a hundred meters you’ll reach the house of a marquis who loves rococo-styled paintings. Straight up the avenue is the café where you and Theo had your first date. If you turn left at that jewelry shop, there’s a bakery that lends its walls to display some of the young artists’ works. A pathway that leads out the side of a bookshop leads to the Seine, where you’d had long walks with Theo, talking about art, love, family.

You are so distracted cataloguing a little map of nostalgia that the whole time you are lost in memory, Theo is also seemingly lost in thought. He stays quiet, guiding you past crowds and on the safer side of the street. The only way you know he’s still with you is the comforting warmth of his hand in yours—your hand he had taken in his as he guided you down the carriage, and then hadn’t let go—and you hold hands all the way to the atelier.

There are no artists today, when you get there, no marquis; just you and Theo, the front door creaking when you enter. The gallery is as spic and span as always, filled with the kind of artwork the Academie loved to tout. But in this building, the magic is on the second floor, the room with the distinct smell of paint and thinner seeping through its walls; a scent that has become to you very familiar.

You go upstairs to the atelier, finding it empty as well, the easels pushed to the side with their respective canvases left out to dry, save for one easel, standing in the middle of the room. It’s covered with a white cloth; the window at the end of the room lets in just enough sun to spotlight the covered painting.

Theo shuts the door behind you, and then settles next to you. “Came for this,” Theo says softly, pulling you gently by the wrist toward the painting before he lets go, grips the cloth with one hand.

You feel him hesitate, but in a moment it is gone.

When he pulls off the piece of cloth, the painting is revealed—a painting of a gray near-spring morning, the trees without leaves and bare, sheets of ice slowly melting atop a glassy silver lake, shimmering white in the dim sunlight. This was a painting you’d seen a duplicate of, one time you were watching the younger artists work—but this one, and you’re sure because of what Theo had taught you, was an original, as original as can be.

It’s hardly the masterpiece that would change your life, as Theo liked to say, but it was an amazing piece, and you’d secretly wished you could own it.

“That’s... a Monet,” is all you say, stepping closer to be fully engrossed in the beautiful near-chromatic landscape, the white of the ice so stark you can almost feel its chill. You’re struck by the wonder of art, as you always do, with Theo. “That’s an actual Monet.”

“What do you think of it?” he asks, nonchalantly.

“Well, it’s, wow,” you say, rather eloquently, “Where do I begin? it’s beautiful.”

“It is,” he says, placing one hand on your waist, and another on the painting’s frame. “And it’s yours.”

The weight of his love is, all of a sudden, so heavy and certain on your shoulders. And oh, what a weight you didn’t mind to bring. You feel so childish so suddenly. “Why?”

He ruffles your hair. “Just take it or I’m taking it back.”

You pout a little, placing your hand on the frame too. “No! I want it. Thank you, Theo,” you say.

And then nothing else.

Just silence.

The both of you know there are things to be said, it’s just that neither of you know where to begin.

Theo decides it’s better to just do.

“I’m not… Vincent. I’m not my brother. I don’t have the skills for painting, and neither have I been chosen for creating anything wonderful. I’m just a mediocre, ordinary person.”

“You know I don’t like it when you say that,” you murmur, gripping his arm.

“I know. But it’s true, and I’m okay with it,” he says. “At the very least, this is what I can do. To buy, and sell, and share paintings. This is my whole life. This is who I am, this is probably what I was born to do. So this is what I can do for you.”

You bite your lip.

“This is the only way I know how to love you; to give you all of what I know how to give.”

You want to cry. You want to apologize for the days you spent discolored by envy, clouded with distrust. You want to take back all the time you’ve spent mulling about if Theo really loved you as much as he claimed to.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Theo,” you say, throwing your arms around him—but this time, the touch doesn’t claw at you; it isn’t a constant chant of mine mine mine mine, but just the collapse of wanting to be held. “I’m sorry I ever doubted this. I just… I didn’t know what could happen. I’m not—I won’t ever be—ready to lose you.”

“You aren’t going to lose me. You were never going to.”

Your heart feels so real suddenly, in your chest. So heavy and alight. “I didn’t know that.”

“You should have, silly hondje,” he says, as he bends down to pick you up, place you on the sofa by the side of the room. You smooth your hand over its fabric and chuckle to yourself; this piece of furniture has seen so much history, if between you and Theo. And here it is to witness one more.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it earlier.”

His voice wavers in a way you never want to hear ever again.

Months and months of words hidden underneath heavy tongues, but they dissolve all at once. “You didn’t have a reason to.”

The lump in his throat is too heavy to put into words. “I didn’t know.”

He doesn’t say it, but you can see it in his eyes, like the boy with his face and Vincent’s name is reflected right on its glassy surface. “I know you didn’t.” You press your hand against his cheek, and you’re surprised at how it doesn’t shake. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He looks up at you. “For what?”

“For holding this against you.”

He turns away with an exhale, making an expression you can’t make out. “You were right to do it.”

“Maybe I was,” you say, with a deep sigh. “But it still wouldn’t have been right of me to have made it all about myself.”

The words sink in between the two of you, refreshing and cool in its honesty, like melted ice.

“Do you want to ask about her?”

Theo doesn’t know.

He does, but at the same time, he doesn’t.

Because what then happens once he knows?

Look at how much happened, when he knew, just standing there in the gallery?

What more could happen if he dared to ask the rest of it?

And if he did… what is there to be done?

He frowns. “I didn’t think she would stay in Paris.”

“She doesn’t. She only came to visit, and heard about the exhibit when she was in town.” Theo doesn’t move. “She came to visit a friend, and… Vincent.”

Theo flinches. “Broer?”

“In Auvers-sur-Oise.”

The information clicks into place. Auvers-sur-Oise, where they’d taken Vincent’s body to the place he’d written about wanting to visit. Where he would have gone, if not for…

“I didn’t think…”

“Who do you think took care of all the paintings you’d left behind?” You snicker. “You left her a lot of work to do.”

“She didn’t have to.”

“She will, though,” you affirm. “She has, and she will, and she always will. Because she still loves you, Theo. That’s how much love you’ve left for her.”

Theo’s heart near collapses.

“You talk as if you know for sure.”

You smile, a small smile that’s equal parts hurt and equal parts forgiveness; doused in relief but also love. The rest of forever is a foggy place and you hold a lamp of certainty on it.

“You forget I come from the future.”

You pull his head against your chest and rest your head in his hair, shielding him from your own expression (teary-eyed, relieved, exhausted) and allowing him to hide his own.

“You don’t need to keep beating yourself up over this.”

He snorts, a wordless well, you did too, you’re one to talk. Oh, the delight of once again being able to hear what Theo does not say.

“I might have, but now I don’t. Want to know why?”

Theo snakes his arms around your waist.

“…Because you stayed. Because you’re still thinking of me when you’re dealing with all of this grief on your own.”

Grief Theo believed he didn’t deserve to live without.

“I left her on her own.”

“You did,” you say; there is no point in sugarcoating it now. “And at the same time, you didn’t. You taught her to stand, and you gave her so much love, and faith, and direction…” You shake your head, because by god, does Theo just keep giving and giving and giving and he doesn’t even know how much he is doing. “You gave her Vincentje.”

Theo holds you tighter, but really, it’s you that’s holding him together.

“You can go around saying everything is your fault, Theo, be the judge, defendant, the prosecutor, the jury—but it still won’t change the truth,” you say. “That at the end of the day, you’ve planted the seeds of greatness, and the world will watch it blossom from her.” You cup his cheeks. “From the artists you’re nurturing. From the art world you’re watching over. From me.”

You press a kiss on his forehead and settle him back under your chin. You feel him shaking, ever so gently.

“You don’t have to keep being the bad guy, you know?”

He sighs, like he doesn’t believe it. Or like he’s finally letting it out of his system. The two of you sit together like that in companionable silence for a long moment, as Theo begins to put himself together. And when the fog in his mind has cleared, he murmurs a question into your flesh, like he’s guilty for wanting to ask it.

“How is the boy?”

You smile. And it hurts, but smiling is what this moment deserves. “He loves his papa very much. He says he doesn’t understand art, but he knows how much it means to him, his mama, his papa, that he respects it. He says his papa is watching over him, and that’s the only way he can keep up with his mama.” You feel Theo clench his jaw. The sting of tears begin to grow on your eyes. “Theo, he looks just like you.”

A single laugh, pressed into your chest. “He ought to do better than me.”

“And he will, for sure,” you say. Adamant. “Isn’t it exciting to see what he can do?”

“Would you like to see it?”

You smile like it’s obvious. “Yes, of course. He’s a brilliant boy. Just like his papa.”

He presses a kiss to your shoulder before looking up at you. “Why are you like that?”

“Like what?”

Theo only looks at your face for a moment, and you wait for him to continue.

“I thought art dealership had to be a lonely job.”

The shift surprises you, but you nod. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“You taught me that,” he says, “in the ways you let me be alone, let me process this on my own, didn’t come at my throat for it. I want to apologize for how long it took. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

The smile hurts. “I know.”

“When I got that Monet painting, I was thinking of you. I was thinking of how beautiful you are, how strong and yet so tender. How important you are to me. How even in this… coldness, you still managed to find me. Sit with me.”

“Theo…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Jo. I do, still have feelings for her—but they are regret, remorse. That chapter is over, and I am no longer part of her story; my exhibit in the gallery of her life is over. And you… you hold my whole heart. The main event, the masterpiece. I took you from the waves of time, you know? My little time-traveling knabbeltje.”

“Hey!”

“I love you, ik hou van jou, je t'aime,” he chants. “I’ll tell you over and over again, until you get sick of it.”

“I won’t get sick of it.”

Theo laughs, and oh, the sound of his laughter. “That’s what you think.”

You grin, pulling at his tie and kissing him on the lips. “Challenge accepted.”

(“I can’t believe you bought me a Monet to ask for forgiveness. Maybe we should fight more often.”

“Hondje.”

“I was joking!”

“You spend too much time with Arthur, if you’re joking like that.”

“Geez, Theo, don’t be jealous of your best friend.”

“We’re not friends.”)

Theo tells you to hang the painting in your room, but considering you already spend most your nights in his, the Monet hangs instead on the walls of his room, watching over the bed like a constant reminder of the lessons learned from the entire experience.

On the dresser is a letter you finally had the courage to show Theo.

On the dresser is a letter from Jo, addressed to you.

---

in the atelier: ice melting near vétheuil by claude monet, 1880

i don't have any particular smart reason for the painting choice, i just thought it was really nice; i feel like theo doesn't also need much spectacle to get his message across, so. also that’s a monet, okay.

fun fact, theo was hosting an exhibit by monet when he was preparing to get their apartment at 8 cite pigalle... didn’t know before i wrote this in, actually!

#ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire theo #ikevamp theo #ikevamp #ikevam #ikevam theo #atelier heart #you are still the sun that shines for me

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phrynefishersfrocks · 4 years ago

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The final outfit of “Blood at the Wheel” (Season 2, Episode 7) features the reappearance of Miss Fisher’s sophisticated home ensemble of her gold beaded cocktail bolero with a wide black band of silk tying it together over her black camisole and paired with her silk faille pants and gold heels.

Her beautiful lace bolero is crafted from gold beads on a black net worked onto a floral design and is actually made of leftover fabric from Costume Designer Marion Boyce’s wedding dress. She’d always held onto the scraps and had just enough to create this cocktail bolero. Underneath, she wears her black camisole with small scalloped edging. We’ve seen this near exact outfit before in 2x02, with the addition of her banded sheer illusion blouse.

Phryne pairs this with her classic black silk faille pants, gold heels, and elegant jewelry as well. The large silver filigree necklace is an original 1920′s piece also owned by Marion Boyce, with a crystal drop pendant and small crystals in the chain of the necklace as well. It’s been seen three times so far, in 1x03 and twice in 1x12. Her brass swing earrings have been worn multiple times, and pick up on the metallic colors in her bolero and necklace beautifully.

Season 2, Episode 7 - “Blood at the Wheel”

Screencaps from here, promotional photo from Costume Exhibition photos from the official Pinterest, Bobbin & Baste, Lavender and Twill, and the 2014 Costume Exhibition Catalogue.

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underthewingsofthblackeagle · 5 years ago

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After her marriage with Frank Randall has failed and Claire Beauchamp flees from her violent husband, she finds refuge in the house of the Fraser/Murray family in Berlin-Wilhelmshorst. But then tensions arise between Britain (which has since left the EU) and some EU member states. All holders of an English passport are required to leave EU territory within six weeks … and suddenly Claire’s fate looks more uncertain than ever.

This story was written for the #14DaysofOutlander event, hosted by @scotsmanandsassenach

Chapter 4: 14 Seconds (2)

When Jamie's car stopped just before the entrance of the gallery, it had already begun to rain in torrents. The sky had darkened to black and every now and then a loud thunder could be heard. The limousine driver parked near the entrance and then quickly jumped out of the car with a large black umbrella bearing the logo and name of the hotel in gold letters. He opened the door on the rear passenger side and held the umbrella so that Jamie could get out without getting wet. The chauffeur accompanied him the few steps to the gallery, then quickly hurried back to the car where he would wait for the guest to return. As soon as he had entered, Jamie was greeted by a friendly member of the gallery staff. He paid the entrance fee and received the exhibition catalogue. Then he slowly started his way through the exhibition. It took him about forty minutes to reach the back room of the gallery. Already from a distance he saw the well-known photo showing the painter in front of his famous work "Wall". Only once had Richter had himself photographed in front of this work. This photo had then adorned the title page of the art magazine "art". Exactly in front of this two-meter by two-meter picture sat a petite woman, whose head was surrounded by an only slightly tamed, dark brown mass of curls. Carefully and anxious to make as little noise as possible, Jamie approached with some distance. A few minutes passed, then he heard the woman sniffing softly. She opened her handbag and was obviously looking for a handkerchief in a hurry. Jamie reached into the right pocket of his jacket and pulled out a pack of Tempo tissues, which he opened and held out to the unknown woman. "Please, take one of these."

“Boston” by chabotphoto The woman turned her head up to him and looked at him with big, red, weeping eyes. Then she immediately looked back down to the ground. "Don’t be ashamed. I know only too well how much this painting can speak to a person's soul," Jamie said softly. "What?" asked the young woman and looked at Jamie again. "I meant the picture..." Jamie pointed with his right hand to the large photo she was sitting in front of. Claire looked over, then shook her head. "I ... I didn't ..." At that moment, the dark silk scarf she had wrapped around her neck began to come loose, revealing her ivory skin. To his horror Jamie discovered several dark red-blue strangulation marks there. James Fraser had learned early on to hide his emotions well. Among the people who regularly dealt with him, he was known for the stoic mask he was able to put on. A mask that never betrayed what he really thought or felt. Ernst Neuenburger had once highlighted this characteristic of his Scottish friend as a further asset to his diplomatic missions, saying, that if Jamie ever got tired of his daily work, he could make a very good living as a poker player. But at that moment every joule of stoic calm left him. A feeling of righteous anger pervaded his entire body and the desire to bring the one who had caused those marks and the pain and fears associated with them to justice almost overwhelmed him. His emotions had obviously not escaped the young woman. Frightened, she grabbed her neck and immediately put the scarf back on. Then she looked down again. Now tears were dripping from Claire's face onto the floor. Jamie, who had not failed to notice this either, again held out the package of Tempo tissues to her. "Please, take the whole package." Claire reached for the tissues. "Thank you." "May I sit with you?" Jamie asked, pointing to the other side of the bench. She nodded.

Cautious not to get too close to her, he sat down on the other end of the bench. A few minutes went by in which they both remained silent. But in James Fraser's head the thoughts were spinning. What could he do to help this young woman without endangering his mission? How could he approach her without frightening her timid nature even more? In what way could he gain her trust? And above all: How could he prevent her from being exposed to even more brutality? In Claire's mind, too, one thought chased the other. Who was this man? What did he want from her? Could she trust him? Was he the help she had prayed for just a few minutes ago in a more or less conscious prayer? He did not look like an angel, more like the modern version of a tall Viking. And yet there was nothing about him that seemed threatening to her. His bright blue eyes gave her a feeling of ... a feeling of ... Suddenly the soft, deep voice that had so kindly offered her the handkerchiefs before interrupted her thoughts: "Excuse me, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Etienne Marcel de Provac Alexandre. I'm a wine merchant. I had a business meeting in town today." Jamie gave her his right hand. Claire, who had calmed down a bit, grabbed it and answered: "Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp..."

“Hände” by Bru-nO

Usually, she would also have used the name "Randall", but she never wanted to have anything to do with that name again. Before she could even think about how to get rid of this name, the stranger's voice interrupted her thoughts again: "Oh, from France too?"

"Not exactly. My ancestors ... emigrated to England ... many centuries ago. Are you from France? You speak English with no accent?“ Jamie had to smile.

"Well, my ancestors also left France centuries ago. Then they came to Germany ... through ... various countries. I ... I work as a wine merchant for a company in Berlin.“

He reached into the right inside pocket of his jacket, took out a small silver case with business cards and handed one of them to Claire. She took the card and read attentively. Surprised, she suddenly heard herself wonder: "How far is Berlin from here?" Jamie thought for a moment. "A little over 6,000 kilometers, I guess." "And how far is it from London to Berlin?" "About 1,000 kilometers." "And you are in Boston on business?" "Yes, I had a meeting with one of our business partners." She nodded. "I don't want to be indiscreet, but may I ask you something?" Claire looked at him and Jamie realized that the trust he had just so carefully tried to build between them had disappeared from her eyes.

But then the young woman nodded again. "You ... you're not here for the exhibition?" he asked softly, almost whispering.

"No," Claire replied just as softly, and then, to her own surprise, it flowed out of her: "I ... I was looking for a place where ... I could have some piece, a quiet place to think, and since the church was closed ..." "Sorry if I disturbed you. I didn’t mean to." Jamie made preparations to stand up carefully. But to his surprise, Claire had quickly put her hand on his arm as if she were holding him back. Was she? She didn't know it herself. At that moment, the voice of the friendly co-worker who had greeted Jamie sounded from the ceiling speakers. She warned the visitors to the gallery that it would be closing shortly.

Jamie looked at Claire. "What are you gonna do now?"

He did not need to wait for an audible answer, her eyes told him that she did not know. "May I invite you to dinner, Mrs. Beauchamp?"

What did that man want from her? Could she trust him? Or was there some other purpose behind his altruism. She had truested Frank once ... But what if he really just wanted to help her? What if he really just wanted to be kind to her? Maybe because the thought of his French ancestors had activated a kind of feeling of solidarity? Did she have any chance? Did she have a better alternative? Claire nodded. "Thank you." Jamie got up and waited until Claire had also got up and taken her bag. Slowly they walked towards the exit. Through one of the large windows they saw that the rain that had begun to cover the city a few hours earlier, had gradually turned into a real storm. Jamie grabbed his smartphone and dialed the chauffeur's number. Shortly afterwards Carl appeared in front of the gallery with two large black umbrellas and together they walked quickly to the car.

“Schwarz und Weiß” by Pexels

"To the hotel, Mr. Alexandre?" "Yes, Carl, to the hotel." Claire looked at Jamie in surprise. But he briefly put a hand on her right arm to calm her down: "My hotel has a wonderful restaurant. I arrived yesterday and will fly back to Berlin tomorrow. I didn't have time to explore other restaurants." Half an hour later they were sitting at a table in the hotel restaurant and had ordered dinner. Claire had decided that she would make the most of the time they had together. She had nothing to lose and so she began to question Jamie, alias Etienne. How had his family come to Germany? Had he grown up in Germany? Had he studied? Did he have brothers and sisters? How long had he worked for the company that sent him to Boston? Did he enjoy his job? Did he want to pursue this profession all his life? As they ate and talked, Claire carefully glanced over his hands. He was not wearing any rings. So the question of whether he was married seemed unnecessary. Now he looked at her questioningly, obviously he had noticed something.

“Glashütte Original Panomatic Date“ by GFP via WikiMediaCommons

"You are wearing a very beautiful watch, Etienne," she said, hoping that he would not notice that her attention had not been focused on the piece of jewelry on his left wrist. Already in the car she had seen that he was wearing a watch with a blue dial that matched the colour of his eyes.

"What kind of brand is it?" she asked, hoping to distract him further.

"It's a Glashütte Original. Model PanoMaticLuna," he replied. Then he cut off another piece of his steak.

"Looks expensive," she said, then led another fork of lettuce to her mouth.

"Let's just say it wasn't cheap," Jamie replied before he in turn brought his fork with the meat to her mouth.

"So you make good money?"

The question came briskly and Claire almost bit her tongue. She hoped she hadn't offended him. But Jamie didn't seem to mind her remark.

"I was lucky enough to close a very good sale a few years ago and my boss gave me a percentage of the profits. That's how I afforded this watch. I'm not giving much about wearing ... jewellery, but I've always wanted a reliable watch.

"What was that you were selling at the time? It must have been quite extraordinary."

Beauchamp! Your mouth will finally get you into trouble.

She was about to apologize when Jamie grabbed his wine glass, smelled it and then took a sip. This gave him a chance to think for a moment before he answered.

Claire also reached for her wine glass. She looked at him and saluted him.

"Well," he began, after putting his glass down, "I can't, of course, talk about business matters. But let's put it this way: I located some very old bottles of European wine a few years ago and was able to acquire them for someone else, a collector, at a very good price."

Fraser, you nut. I hope she takes it from you.

He'd read that this sort of business was really happening, but extremely rare. He also wondered if his answer had sounded convincing. Yes, he'd bought this watch on a bonus. But he had not received it for finding and reselling old wine bottles. For weeks he had been negotiating in the hottest weather with a North African group of bandits who had kidnapped a German-Austrian team of archaeologists. After finally returning the twelve men and women to Vienna and Berlin on a Gulfstream 650, Ernst Neuenburger presented him with a cheque. With this money he had bought the watch he had been wearing ever since. As dinner drew to a close, Jamie decided to play at full risk. "Claire, I know this must sound ... strange to you. But ... I'd like to help you. How would you feel about me booking you a hotel room? My company can cover the cost. It's no problem. I'll check with my boss later. You ... you don't ... you don't have to ... go back to ... him ... tonight." He had spoken softly, almost in a whisper. Yet she felt as if her ears were ringing. Before she could even answer, Jamie had called a waiter and asked him to ask at the reception if he could book another single room. She looked at him speechless. He just smiled. Shortly after, the waiter came back and explained that unfortunately there were no more free single rooms because of the Boston Marathon, which would take place in two days. "So that's all right then, but thanks for the suggestion," Claire said and reached for her wine glass again. "There's another possibility," Jamie started and reached for his wine glass as well, "there's a fold-out sofa in my studio. You can take my bed, I'll have it freshly made and I'll take the sofa." Claire placed her wine glass on the table with such force that he thought the stem would break off. "What do you think?!" she thundered at him. "I'm not that kind of woman." He would have been happy to answer her at the same volume. But some of the other guests were already looking to them and he wanted to avoid further fuss at all costs. "And I, Claire, am not such a man," he replied in a calm but very specific tone. When she had calmed down a little, he went on quietly: "I have a family in Berlin and I don't travel the world to bring vulnerable women to my room on my nights off."

He put his hands in front of his face and massaged his forehead lightly. When he looked up again, he saw her shaking slightly. Since she was silent, he continued speaking: "All I want, Claire, is to help you. I don't know who inflicted those marks on your neck and I'm not going to ask you about. But I don't want you to have to go back to him - if you don't want to. And I don't want you wandering around this town in the middle of the night in this weather too. I want to be sure that you're safe and that you're getting a good night's sleep. Tomorrow you can decide what to do next. Tears ran down her cheeks and Claire quickly reached for her napkin to wipe them away. "Claire, please! Allow me to help you." He reached out his right hand to her. When she had put the napkin aside, she grabbed it. "Thank you. You’re kind." Jamie waved to the waiter and asked him to arrange for the pull-out sofa in his studio to be preoared and his bed to be freshly made up. He also asked to separate the two sleeping areas with screens. When the waiter returned shortly afterwards and announced that the guest's wishes would be carried out, Jamie asked that dessert be served.

“Lemon Meringue Tart" by la-fontaine After they had eaten the lemon meringue tart and emptied the rest of the bottle of wine, Jamie stood up and offered his hand to Claire. Together they walked out of the restaurant to the cloakroom where they received their coats. Soon after, Jamie opened the door to his studio and let Claire go in. When he entered after her, he saw that the service had carried out his wishes to the point. His bed had been freshly made and there was a second bathrobe on the bedspread. The bedroom had been separated from the living room area (where the sofa had now been converted into a pull-out bed) by a bamboo screen about 2 meters long. Claire also looked around carefully and Jamie thought he saw something like an expression of satisfaction and relaxation on her face.

He took Claire's coat off and hung it with his in the cloakroom. "Take a seat, please," he said, pointing to one of the armchairs in front of the gas fireplace. Claire let herself fall into the armchair more than she let herself sit down. It seemed as if she suddenly lost all her strength. Her eyes fell on the wedding ring that she still wore out of habit. She tried to take it off, but she couldn’t. Overwhelmed by feelings of pain and anger, she burst into tears again and began to sob. Jamie, who stood at one of the windows for a moment and looked down at the street, turned around immediately and took two big steps towards her. Without thinking about it any further, he knelt in front of her and put an arm around her. "Claire," he said softly, "trust me, we'll find a way. You don't have to go back to him." When she looked at him with her redish weeping eyes, he could hardly bear the sight and pulled her to him.

#14DaysofOutlander #Outlander #Outlander Fan Fiction #From Boston to Berlin in 14 Hours #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Frank Randall #Jenny Murray #Ian Murray #Berlin #Boston #Modern AU

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