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wardrobeoftime · 2 months ago

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Master Post - N to Z

If you notice any show, movie or character missing that I’ve made gifs of, please let me know. Characters are sorted alphabetically by first their last name and then their first name.

Go to A-M | Last updated: November 3rd, 2024

Nussknacker und Mausekönig (Louise Stahlbaum | Marie Stahlbaum | Zuckerfee/Sugar Fairy)

Oktoberfest 1900/Oktoberfest: Beer & Blood (Clara Prank | Curt Prank)

Once Upon A Time in Wonderland (Alice | Cora Mills | Anastasia Tremaine)

Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story (Agatha Danbury | Queen Charlotte | Violet Ledger | Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart | Princess Charlotte of Wales)

Rise of Empires: Ottoman (Katarina Branković | Mara Branković | Gülbahar Hatun | Hüma Hatun | Constantine XI Palaiologos)

Romeo & Juliet [2013] (Juliet Capulet)

Sechs auf einen Streich (see the individual movies)

Shadow and Bone (Tatiana Lantsov | Zoya Nazyalensky | Genya Safin | Alina Starkov)

Sisi [2009] (Elisabeth “Sisi” of Austria | Archduchess Sophie of Austria | Helene “Néné” in Bavaria | Charlotte of Belgium | Eugénie de Montijo)

Sisi [2021] (Elisabeth “Sisi” of Austria | Archduchess Sophie of Austria | Helene “Néné” in Bavaria | Karl Ludwig von Grünne | Eugénie de Montijo)

Sissi Trilogy (Elisabeth “Sisi” of Austria | Archduchess Sophie of Austria | Helene “Néné” in Bavaria | Ludovika, The Duchess in Bavaria)

Snow White and the Huntsman (Ravenna)

Sophie - Braut wider Willen (Sophie von Ahlen)

Still Star-Crossed (Guiliana Capulet | Juliet Capulet | Rosaline Capulet | Tessa Montague | Princess Isabella of Verona)

The 100 (Emori | Clarke Griffin | Lexa)

The Age of Adaline (Adaline Bowman)

The Last Duel (Marguerite de Carrouges | Jacques Le Gris)

The Little Mermaid [2023] (Vanessa)

The Crown (Catherine Middleton | Queen Elizabeth II | Princess Margaret)

The Empress (see Die Kaiserin)

The Eras Tour (Taylor Swift)

The Gilded Age (Bertha Russell | Peggy Scott | Extras)

The Greatest Showman (Jenny Lind)

The Hunger Games Trilogy (Katniss Everdeen | Peeta Mellark | Johanna Mason | Finnick Odair | Coriolanus Snow)

The Huntsman: Winter’s War (Freya | Ravenna)

The Other Boleyn Girl 2008 (Anne Boleyn | Elizabeth Boleyn (née Howard) | Mary Boleyn)

The Pillars of the Earth (Empress Matilda)

The Princess Switch (Margaret Delacourt | Fiona Pembroke)

The Royals (Princess Eleanor Henstridge | Queen Helena Henstridge | Wilhelmina “Willow” Moreno)

The Scandalous Lady W (Seymour Fleming)

The School for Good and Evil (Emma Anemone | Clarissa Dovey | Leonora Lesso)

The Serpent Queen (Catherine de Medici | Diane de Poitiers | Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots)

The Spanish Princess (Catherine of Aragon | Henry VIII | Mary Tudor)

The White Princess (Mary of Burgundy | Elizabeth of York)

The Young Victoria (Victoria, The Duchess of Kent (née of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld) | Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha | Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen | Queen Victoria)

Three Thousand Years of Longing (Hürrem Sultan | Kösem Sultan)

Trenck - Zwei Herzen gegen die Krone (Anna Amalia of Prussia)

Tulip Fever (Mrs Overalt | Sophia Sandvoort | Mrs Steen)

Tut (Ankhesenamun)

Vampire Academy [2022] (Vasilisa “Lissa” Dragomir)

Victoria (Queen Victoria | Victoria, Princess Royal)

Vom Reich zur Republik (Victoria, Princess Royal)

War & Peace [2016] (Natasha Rostova)

What We Do In The Shadows (Marwa)

Wolf Hall (Anne Boleyn | Catherine of Aragon)

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gotham-ruaidh · 2 years ago

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Outlander 31 Day Challenge: Day 9

Welcome to the Outlander 31 Day Challenge!

Today is Day 9: Favorite character who appears in only 1 episode

I adore Elias Pound in 03x09 "Uncharted," I really do.

But I'll have to pick 2 less obvious choices.

1. Beth Goddard playing Lady Dunsany in 03x04 “Of Lost Things”

and, of course -

2. Lorn MacDonald playing everyone’s favorite grump, Geordie, in 03x06 “A. Malcolm”

Originally posted by yellowfeather84

We don’t spend a lot of time with these characters. But from the glimpses we *do* see, we learn that Jamie knows them quite well. They are influential in his life without Claire.

We learn just enough about them to see that they’re complicated characters. With backstories worth knowing - worth exploring.

The fact that such minor characters are so richly rendered by Diana Gabaldon makes the world in which they live so much more believable. Much more real.

#outlander #outlander 31 day challenge #outlander 03x04 #outlander 03x06

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rhetoricandlogic · 1 year ago

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The King in Yellow - Robert Chambers

Along the shore the cloud waves break, The twin suns sink beneath the lake, The shadows lengthen In Carcosa. Strange is the night where black stars rise, And strange moons circle through the skies But stranger still is Lost Carcosa. Songs that the Hyades shall sing, Where flap the tatters of the King, Must die unheard in Dim Carcosa. Song of my soul, my voice is dead; Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed Shall dry and die in Lost Carcosa. Cassilda's Song in "The King in Yellow," Act I, Scene 2

(I probably shouldn't open a review with lines from a play that has such ill effects on people, but the excerpts from the play were my favorite parts.)

I have done homework for this review, which I now share with you: In about 1887, Gustave Nadaud writes a poem called "Carcassonne" (available online here) about a man dying before he sets eyes on the city of his heart's desire. This inspires Lord Dunsany to write a short story of the same name (included in A Dreamer's Tales), William Faulkner to write a short story of the same name (available in These Thirteen), and, apparently, Ambrose Bierce to write a short story called "An Inhabitant of Carcosa" (available in Can Such Things Be?).

Bierce's story in turn inspires Robert W. Chambers to write a collection of short stories called A King in Yellow (a review of which you are now reading), in which the first four interlocking stories follow the repercussions of a fictional play also called A King in Yellow set in the theoretically still fictional Carcosa. Which in turn inspired H.P. Lovecraft to do something I haven't finished researching yet. Which has apparently spawned a whole cottage industry of books about the king in yellow and Carcosa (just judging by what I'm seeing on Amazon, here). So this is a literary iceberg we're standing on.

The Repairer of Reputations The first story stars a Mr. Hildred Castaigne, convalescing from a concussion, poor man. The story shines in the first part for the sheer 'what on earth am I reading?' reaction it provokes, but half that reaction comes from the fact that the book was written in 1895 and describes a utopia (complete with a nasty little bit of racism) imagined in 1920. The other half comes from Mr. Castaigne, (view spoiler). The Mask The second story stars a character mentioned briefly in the first story, Boris Yvain, and narrator Alec. I think of this one as a retelling (view spoiler). I rather enjoyed this one. In the Court of the Dragon This one stars an unnamed narrator and only names a Monseigneur C____. It is therefore difficult to say the exact links, but I have my suspicions. The Yellow Sign The fourth story stars Jack Scott (from the second story), an organist who may or may not be from the third story, as well as (view spoiler), and references the events of the first story. This is the most horrific story of the quartet. The Demoiselle D'ys Starring Philip and Jean D'ys. No links to other stories, but a pretty tragedy. The Prophets' Paradise A little bit of experimental fiction that didn't really work for me, although the words were strung together nicely enough; it might be better understood as poetry. The Street of the Four Winds The last four stories also form a quartet, but they have nothing to do with Carcosa or the horror genre. This first of the four stars Severn and Sylvia Elven. I kind of this one, because Severn is the kind of man who will feed a hungry cat better than he feeds himself. The Street of the First Shell This one also has a Sylvia, and a Jack Trent? Annoyed. Long war story. Skipped. The Street of Our Lady of the Fields Americans studying in Paris. Romance. Officially bored now. Barely skimmed. Rue Barree Same Americans (different set), still a romance. Skimmed.

Overall, this was really a 2.5 for me (as a 200 page book that took me over a week to read). But I'm glad I read it for the sake of all the allusions I'm sure I've been missing and will now be able to understand. So it's got that going for it. And looking back I really did like the first four stories and a couple of the later ones, for all that the book was a slog. Rounding up.

#Robert Chambers #The King in Yellow #mahreviews #long post

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rj-drive-in · 1 year ago

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Lucid Reality Department:

"Once I found out the secret of the universe. I have forgotten what it was." - Lord Dunsany

In a strangely vivid dream of pale bright colors and outlines sharp enough to make my eyes squint and water, a woman of my acquaintance walked toward me on the sidewalk; her face and neck were covered with long, red scratches.

“Who did this to you?” I cried.

She didn’t stop walking. “I did it to myself,” she said as she passed me by.

Around the next corner, I saw a familiar man; his forehead was battered red and oozing blood, and he was unsteady on his feet.

I put my hand to my mouth. “What happened to you?” I asked.

“I hit my head against a brick wall,” he said. “Over and over and over.”

He walked on and I felt a little dazed and sick. Before I could try to make sense of these disturbing encounters, a young lady who I vaguely recognized crossed the street in my direction; her hands were pressed to her temples and she cried piteously, tears streaming down her face.

“What’s wrong?” I called out to her.

“It’s my own fault,” she sobbed as she walked away from me.

With a frown of my own, I hurried onward, anxious now, my desire to help these people eclipsed by a growing sense of unease. I crossed the street and almost tripped over an old bearded man in ragged clothes who sat slumped against a parking meter. He drank from a brown paper bag and massaged a swollen knee.

“I hurt myself,” he mumbled sadly. “I hurt myself.”

It was then that I became aware of the ambient sounds of this dream city. I looked around and saw people, many people, limping, staggering, hugging themselves and crying, moaning; they were bleeding, broken and beaten black and blue. And all of them were muttering and murmuring that same tearful admission, like a Gregorian chant from a Greek chorus.

I hurt myself. I hurt myself. I hurt myself.

At a small park, I found a bench and sat, and wondered at the madness of this dream. Was I, too, fated to become one of these walking wounded? For a very long time, I sat and waited, but no self-destructive impulses assailed me; I seemed to be immune.

Eventually, I came to realize that this was no dream at all.

#micro fiction #microfiction #flash fiction #short story #short fiction #fantasy #rick hutchins #rjdiogenes

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brotherhoodoftheblade · 2 years ago

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Well, it’s still technically Sunday for a few more hours so here’s a bit from The Deathless Divide. ✨

~*~

Even in his absence, it seemed, Perseverance Wainwright was continuing to be a thorn in John’s side.

He’d come to Lady Jonas’s salon – much against his better judgment – the same Saturday afternoon he’d come once upon a time, with the thought that the young Percy might turn up, either on his own or even with another man in tow. Surely Percy would still want to meet Diderot?

But he’d yet to make an appearance.

And John had already been there some time. Long enough to have gracefully circumvented the amorous attentions of Lady Beverley, exchanged pleasantries with a handful of people, and delivered Harry Quarry’s book of erotic verse into Diderot’s hands on Lady Joffrey’s behalf. He’d even blessedly remembered to inform the man that he was not the author of said verses this time, but somehow it did nothing to prevent his face from feeling a trifle too warm as Diderot loudly recited a particularly ribald stanza for the benefit of his companions. Peals of laughter floated from behind the ornamental screen and rippled out to the rest of the room.

He hastily stuffed the last bit from his plate of savouries in his mouth, collected his great coat and cloak, and hurried out into the biting chill of the January air.

He didn’t know where his soon-to-be stepbrother was, but he’d waited long enough.

And if he was honest, he was becoming increasingly disquieted.

The last few days had passed like a reoccurring dream in which he’d had much the same conversation again and again, heard the same witticisms spoken verbatim, went where he was supposed to go and did what he was supposed to do. The letter bearing news of Geneva Dunsany’s death had arrived that morning like clockwork, and for a moment the very magnitude of it had nearly overwhelmed him.

Yet, he’d somehow managed to contain the black rage that had seethed within him at the very sight of Bernard Adams – his father’s murderer – at the Whitehall colonels’ meeting with the Ordnance Office yesterday morning. Even though the inside of his cheek still throbbed faintly from his having bitten it hard enough to draw blood with the struggle to restrain himself from lunging up from his seat and straight for Adams’ jugular. As much as he’d have liked nothing more than to stab the Irish bastard in the eye again and force him to confess his crime, it wouldn’t have done to assault the First Secretary of the Ministry of Ordnance in a room full of his superior officers. Not just yet, in any case. Though he was loathe to do so, he’d have to bide his time until a more propitious confrontation could be arranged.

And what was seeing Jamie Fraser again compared to seeking justice anew for his father’s murder? Nothing, he wanted to say, even as his heart whispered, Perhaps still everything.

In truth, he could not be certain what power the sight of Jamie might yet hold over him until he stood before him once more.

The same could be said for Percy Wainwright. Until he could look into Percy’s eyes, and be acknowledged by them, he could not be certain in what way the geography of his world may have remapped itself.

~*~

Well, that’s a good deal more than six sentences so I guess I’m good for the next month of Sundays now. 😂 Kidding. I hope.😓

May the writing gods continue to bless me so I can actually update my WIPs some time in the near future please!! 🙏🥺📿

#the deathless divide #my fanfic #fanfiction #Lord John Grey #Percy Wainwright #john x percy #six sentence sunday

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scarletunit6 · 8 months ago

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Lady Dunsany died in February 1916 two months before the Easter Rising of Irish nationalists and Republicans who opposed British presence. Their approach was twinned with the Gaelic revival movement in all forms: language, sports, education, theatre, literature. It meant re-imagining dresses of a mythological Ireland as much as making clothes fitting the action of suffragettes and women soldiers in the Republican movement.

www.nolwennfaligot.fr. (n.d.). IRISH FASHION: THE THREAD OF CELTIC HERITAGE. [online] Available at: https://www.nolwennfaligot.fr/amp/irish-fashion. ‌

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legends-of-time · 9 months ago

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The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 20: Late July 1920

Masterlist

A/N: While it says this episode takes place around mid August everywhere I looked online, I felt it really didn't make much sense considering episode 8 starts mid August and ends at the end of September so things have been shifted around to give more room for the other episodes.

——

Their return to Dublin is short lived. There's the burning down of Lord and Lady Drumgoole's castle that triggers the end. Tom comes running to Emma in a panic that evening. He was there at the fire and now the Police are saying he's one of the instigators. They quickly put in the plan they had for if there were a situation like this, which they had decided on due to Tom's activism for an independent Ireland. They agreed, knowing he wouldn't get a fair trial, that Tom should leave at once to Downton, and that she'd close the flat and follow with Ivy. They don't stop her but Tom had gotten the last boat, so Emma has to wait.

Emma reaches the train station and takes the chance to call Downton. Mr Carson picks up and she asks if she can speak to either Edith or Mary. Soon Edith is on the other end.

"I've no time to talk, but tell them I'm all right, so's Ivy. I'm out of the flat. They haven't stopped me..." Emma stops talking when she sees someone suspicious.

"Who hasn't stopped you? Emma? Hello?" Emma quickly hangs up when she hears the call for the train.

——

The next day, Emma and Ivy make it onto the first boat to England. Then it's on a train to Downton Abbey. Once at the station, they get off to find Downton's chauffeur waiting, who had been there all day, waiting for her arrival. Emma feels relieved as this means Tom made it to Downton and was able to explain what was happening. She hadn't been able to call them anymore so as to not give anything that can trace her.

The motorcar drives to Downton Abbey and Emma enters the Great Hall alone. Suddenly Tom jogs in from the Library, out of breath.

"Oh, thank God." He gasps.

Tom and Emma walk straight into each other's arms and hold tight, though not too tight as Ivy lies between them. They pull back just enough to kiss. Tom strokes her cheek with tears in his eyes. He moves his other hand to stroke Ivy's head. "I'm so sorry."

"Shh. It's all right." Emma says in a hushed voice. "We're here now."

A noise pulls them apart and Emma sees Sybil, 8 months pregnant, hurrying over to them. Emma hands Ivy over to Tom just in time for Sybil to give her a big squeeze.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here. I was worried." Sybil cries.

Emma laughs as she pulls back. "We're fine. What are you doing here? What about Southampton? Where's Billy?"

"He's here," Sybil replies. "I heard the news and raced to Downton and begged my family to help. They like you anyway. Papa's gone to the Home Secretary to see if he can do anything."

——

In the guest bedroom, Tom and Emma sit holding each other's hands while the ladies of the family stand in the room. Anna tidies and leaves.

"They didn't try to stop me, but it doesn't mean they won't come after us. Unless Lord Grantham can persuade them otherwise." Emma says.

"Tom..." Lady Grantham sits on the bed. "How could you have left her all alone with Ivy to fend for herself?"

Emma shakes her head. "It wasn't like that. We thought this might happen and we decided what to do. The question is, what now?"

"You mustn't travel anymore, not before Ivy is older." Tom and Emma look at each other for a moment.

"But Tom wants Ivy to grow up in Dublin," Emma replies. She glances over to a gurgling Ivy in her bassinet.

Mary stares at Emma in disbelief. "He won't hold you to that now."

"Well, won't this be the first place that they look?" Tom says.

"How could you be part of it? The Drumgooles are like us." Mary accuses. Tom looks away and stands up. "She came out with me. She was Laura Dunsany then. How could you dance 'round her burning house, Tom? It's horrible."

"He didn't dance. And he isn't dancing now." Emma snaps. Someone knocks.

"Come in," Sybil calls.

Mr Carson enters with a tiny silver tray. "Telegram for you, My Lady."

Lady Grantham takes it and Emma stands in anticipation. Her Ladyship reads it quickly to herself. "Lord Grantham's coming home. He's seen Mr Short."

"And what happened?" Sybil asks anxiously.

"He doesn't say, only that neither of you is to leave Downton." Emma and Tom look at one another and hold hands.

——

Emma catches Anna walking along despondently from Mary's room.

"Anna? What's wrong?" Emma asks as they walk along to the servants' entrance.

"Oh, it's nothing." Anne dismisses as she tries to open the door but Emma stops her.

"Anna. This is me you're talking to. What is it?"

Anna sighs reluctantly. "It's Mr Bates I've had no letters from him and they won't let me see him."

Emma frowns. "Why not? Have they given you a reason?" She questions.

"They haven't. I worry he's trying to let me go." Anna answers tearfully.

"No, I don't believe it." Emma declares. "If he is trying to do that, surely he would've said something to you? This isn't like him."

"If you say so." Anna walks down the servant steps.

Emma sighs as she watches Anne leave. Everything just keeps building up.

——

The family gathers before dinner in the Library. Tom stands by Emma's seat on the settee. Billy and Sybil sit next to her. Matthew, Mary and Edith sit on one settee with the Dowager sitting on a chair next to them. Lord Grantham paces while his wife stands next to Emma's settee.

"I can never go back to Ireland? That's impossible!" Tom argues.

"If you do, you'll be put in prison. It's the best I could manage." His Lordship replies.

"Surely they need proof to ban a man from his own country." Lady Grantham argues.

"They have more proof than Tom will concede."

"Is that fair?" Emma takes Tom's hand. "He's admitted to being there. He told you so himself."

"But he did not tell me that he attended Dublin meetings where the attacks on the Anglo-Irish were planned." Matthew, Mary, Billy and Sybil look at Tom in surprise. Emma pulls her hand away from Tom's, feeling betrayed and disappointed.

"I was always against any personal violence. I swear it." Tom replies. Lady Grantham sits down in a chair.

"Oh, so at least we can sleep in our beds." The Dowager remarks.

"Maybe, but you were not against the violent destruction of property." Lord Grantham counters, walking towards him.

"I've told you, the sight of it was worse than I expected," Tom argues.

"So, what was the deal you managed to extract from the home secretary?" Matthew asks.

"They don't want to make a martyr of him. And with Emma, they think they could have another Maud Gonne on their hands, or Lady Gregory, or worse if they're not careful." His Lordship answers.

"Lady Gregory, Countess Markievicz... why are the Irish rebels so well born?" The Dowager ponders.

"Whatever the reason, I don't want Emma Branson to join their ranks. Mercifully, nor do the Irish authorities. If Tom can stay away, they'll leave him alone."

"I can't be kept away from Ireland," Tom argues.

"You'll be arrested the moment you touch dry land."

——

Emma attends dinner that evening despite the fact that she feels horrible. Tom had lied to her and kept secrets from her for God knows how long. She tries to distract herself with Edith's talk of her letter to the newspaper and news of a new footman.

"What do you mean you wrote to a newspaper? No lady writes to a newspaper." The Dowager exclaims from her son's right. The Tennessee is going to ratify the nineteenth amendment giving all American women the vote. Edith is not pleased with the lack of that in this country.

"What about Lady Sarah Wilson? She's the daughter of a duke and she worked as a war journalist." Edith retorts from between Emma and Matthew.

"Well, she's a Churchill. The Churchills are different."

"Have we no Churchill blood?" Mary argues as she sits between Tom and Billy.

"I think Granny's right." Lady Grantham says. Matthew and Tom sit on either side of her.

"Can somebody write that down?"

"It's good to have strong views, but notoriety is never helpful."

"Well, I've sent it now." Edith declares.

"It won't be published." Lord Grantham says. Emma clenches her cutlery, irritated and angry at Edith's own father's lack of belief and support.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Papa."

"I'm sure it's brilliant." Emma pipes up. Edith gives her a grateful smile

"This is our new footman, Mama." Lady Grantham says before turning to the new addition. "What should we call you?" Emma had also heard there's going to be a new maid, meaning Anna will finally be able to be Mary's lady's maid and a new Kitchen maid.

"Jimmy."

"James, Your Ladyship." Mr Carson steps forward and clears his throat. "This is James."

"Welcome to Downton, James." Lord Grantham greets.

"Thank you, Milord." Emma sees that he stands there stiffly and looks sideways at Mr Carson before exiting. Probably not happy with that.

"Well done, Carson. That must've cheered up the maids." Mary remarks.

"He looks like a footman in a musical review." Her grandmother adds.

"Poor Alfred. We mustn't allow him to be completely overshadowed." Edith says.

"Quite right, My Lady. Hard work and diligence weigh more than beauty in the real world." Mr Carson steps away.

"If only that were true." The Dowager remarks.

——

Emma avoids conversation with Tom and goes to bed early. She stares at a book in her hand though is unable to concentrate as Tom gets ready for bed. Her eyes flicker to Ivy, who lies asleep next to their bed.

She decides she needs to say something and turns to him with a cross look on her face. "You never told me you went to those meetings."

"I never told you I didn't," Tom says. Emma clenches her teeth, annoyed.

"And what else haven't you told me?" She asks pointedly.

"All I know is, I can't stay here. Not for long." Tom says.

"You must," Emma argues. "And so must I. And you must let Ivy stay here."

"You're very free with your musts," Tom remarks as he walks over to the bed

"But I will not be free with our daughter's chances." Tom gets into bed. "We need peace and safety." Emma puts her hand over Tom's. "Downton can offer us both."

Tom kisses Emma's cheek, but she still feels sad when he pulls away.

——

Emma gets up and goes down for breakfast and joins Lord Grantham, Matthew, Tom, Billy and Edith in the Dining room while Sybil and Mary stay in their rooms.

She walks up to the side table to collect her food before sitting next to Tom with Billy and Matthew across from them and Edith and her father on either end. Emma doesn't look at Tom as she sits down as she's still upset with him. This causes Billy to give her a questioning look but she shakes her head at him to keep him quiet.

Lord Grantham is reading the paper when he suddenly lets out an exclamation, "Good God in heaven! "Earl's daughter speaks out for women's rights."" He lowers the paper to look at Edith.

"What?" Edith gasps, beginning to smile.

""In a letter to this newspaper today, Lady Edith Crawley, daughter of the Earl of Grantham..."" Edith looks excitedly at Matthew, who begins to grin and Emma finds herself doing the same. ""Condemns the limitations of the women's suffrage bill, and denounces the government's aims to return women to their pre-war existence.""

Edith smiles. "You said they wouldn't print it."

"Well done." Matthew

"That's most impressive." Billy agrees.

"Don't say you support her." Lord Grantham complains.

"Of course we support her. And so do you, really... when you've... had a chance to think about it." Matthew says.

"So, I should hope, anyway." Tom grins at Edith.

"Ugh." Mr Carson grumbles from his corner.

"What do you think, Carson?" Lord Grantham asks.

"I would rather not say, My Lord." Matthew smirks and looks at Edith. Edith smiles happily down at her plate.

"Truly incredible Edith," Emma says smiling. Edith continues grinning.

——

Anna later runs up to Emma gleefully. "Emma, Emma!"

Emma laughs, relieved to see Anna smiling. "What is it?"

Anna shows her a large stack of letters. "They're all from Mr Bates."

"All of them?" Emma gapes in surprise.

"Yes. I'll have to wait till later to read them, but the fact that they have arrived..."

"I'm happy for you, Anna." Emma is happy that it has been resolved.

——

"You'll love this," Gemma says as she walks into the Library. Emma had been reading when Gemma wandered in to borrow a book.

"What?" Emma asks, looking up from her book. She had decided to The Monk by Mathew Lewis. Emma had to read it at university but remembers enjoying it so she happily sat down to read it.

"The new Kitchen maid started today," Gemma answers as she browses.

"And?"

"Her name is Ivy Stuart."

Emma lets out a snort. "Really?"

Gemma chuckles. "Yes."

"Well, that's awkward," Emma says.

Tom walks into the room then. "Emma, please can I talk to you?"

Emma sighs. "Alright." She glances at Gemma. Tom turns to look at her as if he hadn't even noticed her when he came in.

"I'll go then," Gemma says, getting the message, grabbing a book and leaving. Once she's gone, Tom sits next to Emma.

"What is it?" Emma asks tiredly.

Tom takes her hand in his. "I'm so sorry for going to the meetings."

Emma shakes her head. "It's the fact that you lied about them. We're partners, we have to be honest with one another."

"I know." Tom drops her hand and looks down shamefully.

"And the fact that I told you about me, a secret I haven't told anyone else yet you couldn't trust me with this!" Emma explains sadly.

"I didn't want you to be disappointed with me," Tom replies, taking her hand he had dropped into both of his hands. "But I regret it, please forgive me."

Emma sighs but nods with a small smile. "Of course, let's move forward."

Tom smiles and they share a kiss but get interrupted when Sybil walks in.

"Oh, sorry!" She exclaims. Tom and Emma laugh, they're going to have to get used to living with more people, at least for a little while.

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

#downton abbey

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scullysconstant · 2 years ago

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Requested: Lady Louisa Dunsany’s outfits in Of Lost Things

#*mine #outlanderedit #outlander #louisa dunsany #lady dunsany #perioddramaedit #perioddramasource #weloveperioddrama #cinematv #cinemapix #tvedit #costumes #gif request

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outlandishthoughts · 7 years ago

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Can someone explain to me why Lady Dunsany goes out of her way to remark on the resemblance between Jamie and William?

It’s in the book and the show uses the same line.

Willie’s grandmother laughed, eyeing the boy fondly. “Oh, yes. He loves his pony. We have a terrible time getting him even to come indoors for meals. And he’s even more fond of his groom. We joke sometimes that he spends so much time with MacKenzie that he’s even starting to look like MacKenzie!”

Lady Grozier, who had of course paid no attention to a groom, now glanced in MacKenzie’s direction.

“Why, you’re right!” she exclaimed, much amused. “Just look; Willie’s got just that same cock to his head, and the same set to his shoulders! How funny!”

It’s hard for me to believe that she didn’t know or at least suspect that Jamie was William’s father. But even if she didn’t, she still knows that William’s parentage isn’t what it seems and that there were rumors in town about the circumstances of Ellesmere’s death. Why draw attention to the fact that he resembles a groom?

#outlander #outlander season 3 #outlander s3 #outlander 3x04 #jamie fraser #william ransom #lady dunsany #voyager #outlander books #outlander starz

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majesticrosegraph · 3 years ago

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Hannah James est lady Geneva Dunsany dans Outlander.

Coloring et textures : @andthereisawoman

#hannah james #hannah james avatars #avatars #lady geneva dunsany #outlander #outlanderedit #periodedit #perioddramaedit #period fc #userperioddrama

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imagineclaireandjamie · 5 years ago

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Come Hell or Helwater - Part Fourteen

Claire comes back to the past with Brianna and arrives at Helwater looking for Jamie—but must confront the Dunsanys first.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen

*********************************************

When Claire reached the main house, she was shown up to the same rooms that had belonged to Geneva before her marriage.

Isobel and Lady Dunsany were seated near the bed where Geneva was resting. But Claire’s attention immediately went to her prospective patient.

There was certainly a disheveled exhaustion about Geneva. The drawn look about her eyes indicated difficulty sleeping or some other strain. Her coloring was off too. She appeared more likely to break out into a cold sweat than a maidenly blush. To Claire’s eyes, the young woman was clearly unwell and not simply tired from an uncomfortable journey over bad roads.

Geneva roused when her mother greeted Claire. Her eyes quickly sought and found Claire’s. Before Geneva could conceal it, Claire thought she saw fear and relief wash over her face.

“Mama, would you and Isobel leave us?” Geneva requested. “I recall Mrs. Mackenzie is more comfortable performing her examinations in private.”

“Indeed. And whatever else Mrs. Mackenzie recommends for you, I’m certain that rest will be imperative,” Lady Dunsany conceded. “If you had given us more warning of your visit and had taken your time in your journey, I could have planned something especially appropriate for your first night at home again. However, I suppose a quieter meal for tonight will suit you better under the circumstances. I shall speak with Cook about arranging something for tomorrow evening or later in the week, when you’re feeling more yourself.”

“I won’t be staying more than a day or two, I’m afraid, Mama,” Geneva apologized as she moved to sit up. “Lord Ellesmere was traveling for business and I grew weary of being left behind. But he will return soon and I should be at home when he arrives. I will speak to him, though, about making an extended visit before too long,” she promised with a saccharine smile for her mother.

Lady Dunsany’s smile in return was indulgent. “Of course, my darling. We’ll discuss it more tomorrow and make a proper event of it when you come for your longer stay. And we will always have your rooms here ready for you.”

Isobel remained silent as she followed her mother out, casting one last fearful and curious look back at Claire and her sister as she closed the door behind them.

Geneva sighed deeply but quickly lost the remaining color in her face and darted up for the chamber pot. She made it in time to heave the contents of her stomach into it, then turned to Claire with tears in her eyes.

“Help me,” she begged.

Claire rushed to Geneva’s side as she turned back to the porcelain vessel to gag and choke on bile for a moment longer. After fetching Geneva some water to rinse her mouth out, Claire found herself rubbing the young woman’s back while she spat into the basin and breathed through her mouth until the nausea subsided.

“I suspect I know what’s ailing you,” Claire murmured.

“I’m carrying a child,” Geneva confirmed, her eyes drifting closed as she lifted her head, deliberately swallowed, and then sighed when there was no further urge to vomit. She set the basin aside and drifted back to the bed. “It’s not my husband’s,” she confessed quietly.

Claire frowned at Geneva as she covered the basin with a cloth and brought another glass of water to the bed for Geneva to swallow this time. “You’re certain it isn’t?”

Color came flooding back to Geneva’s face. “Lord Ellesmere and I haven’t… It can’t be his and he’ll know it as soon as he learns about my condition.”

A chill traveled up Claire’s spine as the implications of Geneva’s declaration registered.

“Then… you’re asking me to help you get rid of it,” she stated.

Geneva’s eyes sparked with horror. “No! Absolutely not. If I’m going to bear a child, I’d far rather it be Daniel’s child than my husband’s,” she asserted. “I need your help to get Lord Ellesmere to lay with me so I can convince him the child is his.” She scoffed and shook her head. “Just a few months ago, the last thing I wanted was for that man to lay a hand on me and now, if he doesn’t fulfill his husbandly duties I’ll be ruined.”

“I’m not sure what help I can be with your situation,” Claire admitted, with an internal sigh of relief. “Has he given you any indication why he hasn’t…?”

“His manhood fails him. He… does things that rouse him… but it hasn’t been enough for him to… complete the deed,” Geneva stumbled awkwardly through her explanation. “If there were something I could give him to help him… maintain himself long enough to… see things through, then when I tell him in a few weeks that I’m with child, he’ll believe it’s his.”

“While I sympathize with your situation, I am not comfortable helping you to drug your husband—”

“It’s not as if he isn’t keen to—” Geneva started, but cut herself off as another wave of nausea washed over her. She closed her eyes and rode it out, then began arguing her position again, more calmly. “I’m not looking to cause him harm. The opposite, in fact,” she said with the enthusiasm of a point that had only just occurred to her. “The truth wouldn’t just damage my reputation. It would devastate Lord Ellesmere. He would be humiliated. But if he were able to father an heir… it would allow him peace and comfort.”

“It is not the deception about your child’s parentage that I object to,” Claire assured Geneva. “And I understand your desire to bear and raise the child of the man you truly love.” She’d been in a similar enough position after Culloden. It had never been a question of trying to trick Frank into believing Brianna was biologically his, but the warring desires for Frank to accept Brianna for her daughter’s sake and to push him away because it should have been Jamie… “I can’t treat someone without their knowledge,” she tried to explain. “Not in this way. If your husband were to come to me seeking treatment for… his condition… I still don’t know that I could help. It’s not an area I’ve had much concern to study.”

“But wise women always know how to handle these matters,” Geneva desperately objected. “You’re supposed to know how to get a child. Wouldn’t that cover that aspect of things as well?”

“I am sorry for your situation,” Claire assured Geneva. “I can help you soothe your morning sickness and I can treat you throughout your pregnancy. If you allow me to examine you regularly, I can make sure everything’s progressing smoothly and let you know how best to take care of yourself and your baby. I am happy to be a midwife to you when the time comes… but I can’t tell you what to do about your husband. I agree that if he can be made to think the child is his, it could be the kindest thing for him as well as for the child. But I don’t know how you might be able to do that.”

Geneva scoffed in frustration, tears springing to her eyes. “So you will not help me. Very well,” she remarked, already recalculating the possibilities in the wake of the blow. “You can go. And you are not to tell anyone—”

“I’ve told you before, what you tell me in confidence while you’re under my care as a patient goes no further than this room. And I meant what I said—if you need me for anything concerning your health or that of your baby, I will tend to you and will do everything I am able in my power as a healer.”

Geneva’s expression softened. “Is there something that will settle my stomach? I… I’m afraid that will give me away.”

Claire nodded and crossed to the desk for paper and a quill to write out some instructions and recipes for Geneva to try.

*********************************************

Claire walked back to the cottage turning over Geneva’s predicament. She pitied the young woman for being trapped in a marriage she didn’t want, so that what should have been a happy occurrence had turned out to be a source of deep distress. Pregnancy was nerve wracking enough in ideal circumstances, but her situation… And to only have had a single night with the man she loved—to have had such a limited experience of the joys and pleasures of sex…

Brianna and Jamie were still busy and away when Claire arrived at their (hopefully) temporary home. And the pity she felt for Geneva broke beneath a wave of jealousy and grief.

A single night. That was all it had taken for Geneva to fall pregnant—pregnant with a child unsought and undesired, even if conceived in love. While she and Jamie had been hoping and trying for another child for months and had struggled in the early days of their marriage too.

Jamie kept telling her it would happen when it was meant to happen—and also that he was sure it would happen.

“We’ve weathered tougher storms than this, Sassenach. The sun appeared again then and it will wi’ this as well. Ye’ll see,” he had assured her as she lay in the warmth of his arms.

For now, though, Claire allowed herself to indulge and weep as she settled into an empty chair before the cold fireplace.

#;mod lenny #come hell or helwater au #alternate universe #canon divergence #featuring: geneva dunsany #featuring: isobel dunsany #featuring: lady dunsany

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takemeawaytocamelot · 7 years ago

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The Runaways - The Funny Twist of Fate (1/3)

As many of you might have guessed, I did not especially like the episode in Helwater. I certainly hated when Jamie and Geneva were together. You all know this and you know why. I won’t get into a debate about it here. What I will do, however, is write an alternate story! Because what else does a good fanfic writer do, but fix the things the authors mess up? So! This is my idea for what should have happened. It’s a canon departure and a few things had to change so that this story would work.

Jamie is quite a bit younger than he was in canon, early to mid 20′s, as is Claire.

Lamb is Claire’s father, elder half brother to Lord Dunsany.

Lamb is a widower who travels all over the world with his daughter at his side, coming back to Helwater for Christmas.

Jamie is known around Helwater as Mac.

@outlandishchridhe was a massive help in getting this idea hammered out and down on (digital) paper. I kid you not, it’s 50 pages on our Google doc. @diversemediums helped polish it up and make it a strong, compelling story that I’m, quite frankly, in love with. So, buckle up! It’s a bit of a read.

Jamie carried the sack of grain into the barn, pausing when he heard wheels coming up the road. After setting the sack down, Jamie walked to the far corner of the barn where he could catch sight of the road. Sure enough, a small coach headed for the estate. Odd. It wasn’t a rig Jamie recognized.

Moving quickly, Jamie rushed to meet the coach, coming to a stop just before it did. The driver climbed down and opened the door, helping a tall, slender man out. Jamie recognized him as Lord Dunsany’s elder half brother Quentin Lambert Beauchamp.

Something about his arrival felt off, though. Any time he’d come to visit, he’d ridden his own horse, not hired a coach. Assuming the presence of a second passenger, Jamie rushed to the door and offered his hand.

A graceful, slender hand came out of the shadows to grip his. Holding himself up to his full height, he helped the young woman out of the coach. She appeared to be near to his own age, though he couldn’t be sure. The only thing he knew for certain was that she was beautiful.

“Quentin! I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Thank you,” Lamb said. “You remember my daughter, Claire?”

“Pleasure to see you again, Uncle,” the woman said, dripping in a polite curtsey.

Lamb’s daughter? Belatedly, Jamie realized he was still holding her hand. Dropping it, he took half a step away from her, unable to look away.

“Mac, would you take care of the horses, please.”

“Of course, my lord,” Jamie said, bowing and nodding to the driver. “This way, sir.”

As he lead the way to the barn, Jamie cast one glance over his shoulder at the young woman. While the men were walking inside, she was watching him. Their eyes met for only a moment, but Jamie felt his knees go weak. How could one woman make him feel this way?

The following morning, Jamie was going about his chores when he heard footsteps. Setting down the rake he used for the manure, he dusted off his hands and turned to greet his visitor.

“Mac? Can you prepare two horses for a leisure ride?”

Lord Dunsany stepped into the stable and looked at the groom. The large red-headed man stood up straight and nodded once.

“Aye, my lord. Yours and one for Lord Beauchamp?”

“Yes,” Dunsany said. “I’ve some things to discuss with my brother and he’s more amiable when he’s out of doors.”

“Right away, sir.”

With the horses groomed and saddled, Jamie lead them out of the stable. Both men came down from the house and mounted without a break in their conversation. It seemed polite enough, a discussion of current politics. But Jamie suspected that wasn’t what they’d talk about soon. Once they were safely off, Jamie went back to his work.

Jamie found himself daydreaming about Lamb’s daughter. Lambert’s wife had died shortly after the birth and he’d never remarried. He’d been raising Claire on his own for her entire life, something the Dunsany’s didn’t approve of. Jamie had often overheard the women discussing the shortcomings of raising someone of Claire’s station on the road.

But Claire was a unique girl. Unlike her cousins, she spoke her mind and did as she pleased. They’d never officially met, but Jamie had been around enough to know a little about her.

Gathering up his cart of manure, Jamie headed for the compost pile. His mind wandered to his family - his sister Jenny and her husband Ian. He wondered how they were doing, if everyone was still alright. As he dumped the cart out, he heard a squeak.

“Damn it!”

Frowning, he walked around the side of the compost heap and found someone kneeling in the dirt. Her skirts were stained with mud and her hair was a wild mess. She threw a small knife on the ground beside her.

“Are ye alright, mistress?”

She yelped and spun around, landing hard on her rump. Eyes the color of good whisky looked up at him in shock. One of her hands was clutched in the other and he realized she was bleeding.

“Ah! Christ, lass. Here, let me help ye.”

Jamie knelt down beside her and tore a strip of cloth from the bottom of his shirt. He wrapped it tightly around the small cut on her hand.

“Are ye alright?”

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “I’m quite alright. My knife slipped and just cut me a little. You’re… Mac, right?”

He nodded and helped her to her feet. Her hands were slender with slight callouses. Neither of the Dunsany girls would be caught dead with callouses like that. Nor would they be happy at having so much dirt on their dresses.

“Allow me to escort ye to the house.”

She released a deep sigh and rolled her eyes.

“You’ll sentence me to another lecture about what a lady of my station ought to be doing with her time?”

He couldn’t help but smile at her as he walked her toward the house.

“Aye, I’m afraid I must. Do ye mind if I ask just what ye were doin’ over here wi’ a knife?”

“Oh! I was digging up some herbs to put in my medicine kit. Father says I’ve a knack for healing, so he bought me a box to put my things in. We found some incredible things while we traveled.”

Pausing at the door, he gave her a slight bow.

“I hope ye enjoy your stay, mistress.”

“Please,” she said, holding her injured hand close to her chest. “Call me Claire.”

Excusing himself, he headed back to the manure and finished his task.

When Mr. Dunsany and Mr. Beauchamp returned from their ride, Jamie took care of their horses. They looked unhappy, but it wasn’t Jamie’s place to ask about it. Lord Dunsany stormed off to the house, leaving Lambert behind in the barn.

“Mac, do you have family?”

“Aye, my lord, I have a sister.”

“Ah. So you’ll understand. I love my brother, but sometimes I wouldn’t mind pushing him off his horse.”

Jamie smiled, despite himself. He’d always liked Lambert. Everyone on the estate treated him as though he was invisible, unless they needed him for something. Lamb talked to him like he was a human being, regardless of the looks he got from his family.

“Aye, I felt that way wi’ my sister a time or two.”

Lamb sighed and ran his hands through his already messy hair.

“Yes, well… You can’t pick your family, can you? I suppose one might say it’s God’s way of teaching us patience.”

“Aye, sir. One might say.”

Jamie emerged from repairing one of the stalls in the barn to shouts. Putting his tools away, he grabbed one of the stable boys to find out what was going on.

“Mistress Beauchamp has run away,” the boy said.

Frowning, he observed the chaos around him. Lambert and Dunsany were yelling at each other, heading straight toward him. Jamie thought they’d likely want their horses to go and look for the lass, so he fetched both out.

“Mac,” Dunsany said in a sharp tone. “You know how to hunt, yes?”

“Aye, my lord.”

“Can you track very well? Were you a good hunter?”

Jamie nodded, saddling the first horse.

“Aye, my lord. I was a fair hunter. I can still track well.”

“Good. It seems my niece has run off and we need to find her before this turns into a family scandal.”

Jamie caught the way Lamb rolled his eyes.

“How might I help, sir?”

“Go and look for her. Take a horse and bring her home.”

“Shall I finish saddling your horse, my lord?”

Dunsany shook his head.

“No, get one of the boys to finish this and saddle your own.”

A few minutes later, Jamie nudged his horse onto a trail most wouldn’t see. Unless you knew where to look, it was invisible. He rode for some time, trying to think where a young lady might run to escape the house.

There was a spot he knew of that was quiet and peaceful. He’d gone there many times since the start of his job at Helwater. It was his favorite place to pray for his family and relax.

Rounding a tree, he found her sitting on a log, staring out over the lake.

“Mistress Beauchamp?”

She didn’t turn to him, but sighed.

“I wondered if you’d be the one to find me.”

“Mistress?”

Her eyes closed and she leaned back on her hands.

“Have you ever just… wanted to be someone else? To just disappear from the life you have and go to a new city where no one will know you?”

“Aye, I’ve wished that from time to time. Why would ye want to escape, though? Surely your father takes good care of ye.”

She smiled a little.

“He does. But my aunt can be… persuasive. Father has told me more than once he wishes my mother was still around, to teach me the things a woman my age should know. My aunt thinks it’s time I settle down and marry.”

“Oh aye? And I suppose she’s someone picked out for ye?”

Claire laughed, sitting up and looking at him.

“She has. I didn’t want to hear what sort of man she’d put me with. I’ve heard her talking about her own daughter and I will not let her set me up with someone. Honestly I’m not the sort of woman to be meek and obedient.”

Jamie sat down beside her.

“Have ye a sort of man ye’d like to wed, then? Perhaps one ye left pining after ye in a foreign country?”

Her smile grew.

“No, at least none that I’m aware of. But… I want a marriage where I’m free to do what I want. I don’t want a husband who would expect me to manage an estate like this one, or just sit and raise the children. I still want to explore the world, learn new things.” She turned suddenly to face him, her eyes wide and bright. “Is that insane? Am I mad for wanting all that?”

“No’ a bit, lass,” he said softly. “I think ye shouldna settle for something ye dinna want. I think ye should fight for what you believe in.”

“Tell me, Mac, what sort of woman do you want?”

Jamie eased himself onto the grass and leaned back against the log.

“Weel… No one’s asked me somethin’ like that in some time. I suppose… If I got a choice about it, I’d like a woman who’s smart, who kens what she wants. No’ afraid to speak up, but compassionate as well. And… I’d want a woman who loves me. My da and mam marriet for love and I ken what their lives were like.”

When he looked up at her, her brows were nearly in her hairline.

“You want to marry for love?”

“Aye, I suppose I do.”

“That’s awfully romantic of you.”

He shrugged.

“A groom canna be a romantic?”

“Of course you can! I think it’s lovely. Most men want their wives to be pretty and mind the house.”

“Och, weel. Dinna get the wrong idea, Sassenach. I’d like a beautiful woman too.”

Claire slid off the log and sat in the grass next to him.

“Do you want a woman of good breeding?”

“Wide hips are usually good for breeding,” he said, earning a flush from her. “But no. If she loves me and I her, I dinna care what her station is.”

They sat in silence for some time, the seat of his trousers getting wetter by the minute. But Claire needed the reprieve from the house, so he was inclined to give it to her. No one else would find them out here. The Dunsany women wouldn’t be caught dead out here without a proper bench to sit on and the men sent to search for Claire weren’t good trackers.

“I’m glad it was you that found me, Mac.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because I knew I could talk to you. I can’t talk to Father about this. He thinks he’s let me down, not having a woman around to help raise me. And… Well you know the other side of my family.”

He watched her for a moment.

“What should I do?” she asked, meeting his gaze again.

“I canna answer that for ye, lass. All I can do is get ye back home.”

Tears filled her eyes and slid silently down her cheeks.

“That place isn’t my home,” she said softly.

Jamie pulled her against him and held her for a few moments while she cried. After a little while, she gathered her wits and stood up.

“I suppose I should get back before Father faints.”

“Aye, ye should. I’ve a horse so ye dinna have to walk back.”

“Thank you, Mac.”

Picking up her skirts, she started towards where his horse was tethered.

“Claire- Mistress,” he said quickly, heart thundering in his chest.

“Yes?”

“Mac isna my name. No’ my proper name, anyway.”

Her head tilted to one side and then she grinned.

“I didn’t think you looked like a Mac.”

“Weel, Mackenzie is one of my names. But… Ye can call me Jamie.”

She walked over to him and studied his face.

“Yes. Jamie suits you. But why does everyone call you Mac?”

“My family name is well known. I was told I should use a different name while I’m here. Could be dangerous for my family if they kent who I truly was.”

Claire nodded slowly.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

He smiled and offered his arm, walking her back to his horse.

“As are yours wi’ me. What ye told me today, Sassenach, I willna tell another soul. I gi’ ye my word on it.”

“Would you mind if I maybe came and talked to you again? I swear you’re the only person here that has any sense.”

“Aye, I wouldna mind it. But I may ask for payment.”

Her step faltered and she stared up at him in shock.

“What kind of payment?”

“Stories. I’ve been to Paris, Scotland, and England. But ye’ve been all over the world. I want to hear what it was like.”

“I can do that.”

She mounted the horse without assistance and he got on behind her. The ride back to the estate was quiet and slightly uncomfortable, if only because he had a young woman’s body pressed tightly against his own. At least she rode well and didn’t need him to help her.

Lambert was just riding back to the stable when Jamie helped Claire out of the saddle.

“Claire! Oh thank God, Claire you’re alright! When your aunt said you’d run off…”

Lamb rushed to her and crushed her in a hug.

“I’m sorry I frightened you, Father,” Claire said in a soft voice.

“Just… I know this isn’t always easy for you. But you can’t just disappear like that.” Then Lamb turned to Jamie. “Thank you, Mac, for bringing my little girl back.”

“It was no problem, my lord.”

One afternoon, a few days after Claire’s escape attempt, Jamie took one of the young horses out for training. She was a beautiful filly, a warm chestnut with a white star in the middle of her head.

In one of the small exercise rings, Jamie let her off the line to get herself sorted. She was still too young to put a saddle on, but it was never too early to start teaching manners. A few hours into her lesson, the wind shifted and she spooked. The rope tore out of his hand and he hissed, looking to see the burn across his skin.

“I’m so sorry,” came a sweet voice. “I didn’t mean to scare her.”

Jamie turned and smiled at Claire, who leaned against the rail with a basket in the crook of her arm.

“She’s just a girl wi’ spirit, that’s all,” he said gently. “That’s always a good thing.”

“Is it?” she asked, setting her basket down.

“Aye. Keeps ye on your toes, tells ye what she’s thinkin’.”

Their eyes met for a moment more.

“Is there somethin’ I can do for ye, Mistress Beauchamp?”

“I’ve brought you some food, in case you’re hungry. And I was wondering if I might ask a favor of you.”

“What is it ye need?”

Claire removed the cloth from the top of the basket and brought out a few slices of bread. After offering one to him, she nibbled on her own.

“What I need is intelligent conversation that does not revolve around social seasons or ladylike behaviors!”

Jamie blinked at her in surprise, enjoying her little outburst.

“Let me finish wi’ her first, aye?”

“Of course.”

Claire stepped back and watched, eating some cheese while he finished his exercises with the filly. Once she’d been groomed and put away, Jamie nodded to a bench on the front of the barn. This would be the safest place to talk to her. Out in the open where no one could accuse either of them of scandal.

She sank heavily onto the bench beside him, resting her head against the side of the barn. Jamie waited, stretching out his legs and back.

“They simply don’t understand me. Uncle and his whole family, they just don’t get it.”

“You’re no’ the sort of woman they’re used to, Sassenach.”

Her head turned sharply to face him.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Weel, it means outlander, ken? You’re as much a sassenach here as I am.”

They fell quiet for some time.

“Jamie, what do you want out of life?”

Hearing his true name gave him chills, unused to it as he’d become.

“Ah… That’s quite a complicated question, Sassenach.”

“It is. I don’t have an answer, myself. I only know a few things I want. You seem so self assured, so confident. I hoped you might have an idea.”

“Really I suppose I want a few things out of my life.”

Claire turned her whole body on the bench, whisky eyes glittering in the sun.

“Oh? What do you want?”

“To provide for my family,” he said quietly, glancing around to be sure they weren’t overheard. “That they’ll be safe and cared for. To find…” he paused, meeting her eyes briefly. “No, I canna say. You’ll make fun o’ me.”

She sat up a little straighter.

“I promise I won’t laugh.”

Eyeing her warily, he nodded.

“Alright. I’ll trust your word, then. I want to find the right woman, like I told ye before. One who’ll love me wi’ all my faults and whom I can love in return.”

“You’re really quite a romantic, aren’t you?”

He made a Scottish sound of dismissal and waved his hand.

“Dinna be goin’ about and tellin’ people that, aye? I’ve a reputation!”

Claire laughed and stood.

“I give you my word I won’t say a thing about you being a sweet romantic man. Perhaps I’ll see you around, Jamie Mac.”

Meeting her eyes, he dared to take a risk.

“I certainly hope so. I dinna want to step beyond my station, but I verra much look forward to your company, Mistress Beauchamp.”

One heartbeat. Two. Three. Silence and tension passed between them and Jamie refused to drop his gaze.

“As do I… Sassenach.”

With a wicked gleam in her eye, she gathered her skirts and headed back up to the house. Jamie watched her go, hoping she’d dare a glance over her shoulder. She disappeared from sight without another look.

Lamb and Claire stayed at Helwater for nearly two weeks. In that time, Claire went to visit Jamie almost daily. They talked as long as they could without raising suspicion. More than once, he’d gone to that log to pray for his family only to find her sitting there. So when he rounded the last tree, he wasn’t surprised to see her.

“Good evening, Mistress,” he said, offering a slight bow.

“Oh stop with the formality. No one’s around. I’m sorry I couldn’t visit with you today. Father and I are preparing to leave.”

Jamie came to a sudden stop at her words, his heart thundering in his chest.

“Leave?”

Claire nodded and patted the space on the log beside her. He sat down and waited for her to explain.

“Yes. Father can only stand being in one place for so long. We’ll be leaving tomorrow and then we’ll be off to some country.”

“Will ye come back to Helwater?”

“Oh of course! We’ll be back for next Christmas.”

The tension in his chest eased a little, though he was sad to see her go.

“Oh… That’s good. I’d hate to never see ye again.”

“Will you meet me tomorrow? Before I leave?”

“Aye, I can come see ye for a bit. Where?”

She thought hard for a minute.

“In the trees behind the barn? I’d say we should meet here, but it’s too far to walk in a short time.”

“Aye it is. I’ll meet ye behind the barn, then.”

“Thank you.”

Looking out over the lake, they watched the moon’s reflection for what could have been hours. Eventually, Claire leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed.

“I should get back soon or I’ll never leave.”

“Aye,” Jamie said softly. “Ye should.”

Reluctantly, she stood and dusted off her skirts.

“Until tomorrow.”

“Aye, Sassenach. Until tomorrow.”

Jamie woke early the next morning, nerves keeping him from deep sleep. He would need to prepare the horses to take the carriage into the city. Lord Dunsany wouldn’t let his brother hire another cab when he could show off his wealth with the carriage. But before any of that was to happen, he had to meet Claire.

She waited in the spot she’d mentioned, wringing her hands nervously. He moved silently, stalking around her until he was nearly in front of her.

“Good morning, Mistress,” he said, his voice husky in the early morning.

“Jesus H. Christ!” she blurted, hand over her chest.

“Sorry,” he said with a smirk. “Didna mean to frighten ye.”

Her eyes rolled.

“Yes you did, or you wouldn’t have crept up here like a big cat.”

All he did was shrug.

“What is it ye wanted to see me for?”

She handed him a small piece of folded parchment.

“If you’d be willing, you can write to me and post it to that address. I hope… I hope you will. I enjoy talking with you very much and I’d be sorely disappointed if I couldn’t speak with you until next Christmas. I could… I could write you back, even.”

“Ye’ve enjoyed our wee conversations so much?”

“I’ve enjoyed you, if I’m being honest.”

Taking the parchment, he slipped it into his pocket.

“Aye. I’ve enjoyed ye too, Sassenach. Will it no’ be difficult to get letters to me, though?”

She shook her head.

“No. I’ve spoken with one of the maids and promised her a gift in return for stealing my letters to you out of the weekly post. She’ll deliver to them to you for me.”

“I appreciate that verra much, Claire. Thank you.”

She took a tentative step closer to him.

“It might be some time before I can send you the first letter.”

“Aye. I’m a verra patient man.”

“Promise me something, Jamie?”

Claire was near enough to touch now and he wanted to - badly.

“Anything, lass.”

“Promise you won’t forget me?”

“I couldna forget a thing about ye, even if I tried.”

Those whisky eyes looked down for a moment before looking up through her lashes at him.

“I suppose I could give you a token, to be sure you remember me.”

“A kerchief perhaps? Or a hair ribbon?”

“Something much better.”

Then her lips met his and the world around them melted away. She was timid, unsure, but that only made it better. His hands moved up her neck before digging his fingers into her hair, pulling her closer.

Her lips parted from his almost reluctantly. His eyes remained closed for a few moments before he opened them and met hers.

“Was that a good enough token?”

“Aye,” he said, voice cracking. “Aye that was a verra good token. Have ye done that before?”

Those sinfully delightful lips turned into a smile.

“A lady never tells.”

He cupped her face in one hand, trying to memorize her features.

“Thank ye, mo nighean donn. I look forward to seeing ye again.”

“I’ll write you as soon as I can, Jamie Mac.”

“It’s… Fraser. James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser.”

Her smile grew and she hugged him.

“Until next time, Mr. Fraser,” she whispered into his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

“Aye. Save travels, Mistress Beauchamp.”

Continue to Part 2 - The Elephant in the Room

#outlander #outlander fanfic #helwater au #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #also featuring: lambert beauchamp #also featuring: lord dunsany #also featuring: lady dunsany #also featuring: geneva dunsany

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rj-drive-in · 2 years ago

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The Dunsany Effect Department:

If there are lucid dreams, is there not oblique reality?

“Who did this to you?” I cried.

She didn’t stop walking. “I did it to myself,” she said as she passed me by.

Around the next corner, I saw a familiar man; his forehead was battered red and oozing blood, and he was unsteady on his feet.

I put my hand to my mouth. “What happened to you?” I asked.

“I hit my head against a brick wall,” he said. “Over and over and over.”

“What’s wrong?” I called out to her.

“It’s my own fault,” she sobbed as she walked away from me.

“I hurt myself,” he mumbled sadly. “I hurt myself.”

It was then that I became aware of the ambient sounds of this dream city. I looked around and saw people, many people, limping, staggering, hugging themselves and crying, moaning; they were bleeding, broken, and beaten black and blue. And all of them were muttering and murmuring that same tearful admission, like a Gregorian chant from a Greek chorus.

I hurt myself. I hurt myself. I hurt myself.

Eventually, I came to realize that this was no dream at all.

#short story #short fiction #micro fiction #microfiction #fantasy #dream world #Rick Hutchins #RJDiogenes

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inmyfxith · 2 years ago

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Blood of my blood - Part. I

Pairing: Claire Fraser x Jamie's daughter!reader / Malva Christie x Jamie's daughter!reader / Thomas Christie x Jamie's daughter!reader

Warnings: Mention of punishment

Words: 1k3

Within a few months, Jamie had lost all reason to live. Claire had returned to her own time and the Jacobites had lost their fight, forcing the last rebels to flee or face the consequences of their actions. He had become a shadow of his former self, a ghost among the living like most of the other Scottish men locked within the walls of Ardsmuir prison.

His arrival at Helwater had changed some things. Claire still haunted his mind, but his work with the horses made his days more bearable. During an evening of drinking with the other servants, Jamie had surrendered to the love of a woman who was not his wife. She was one of Lady Geneva Dunsany's maids, but that didn't matter to the young man. The alcohol had allowed him, for a moment, to imagine Claire lying next to him and that they were sharing together a moment of tenderness that he had eagerly desired since he had seen her fade away through time and space. However, neither of them had thought about the consequences and repercussions of their actions. The young maid, barely out of her teens, had become pregnant.

The young woman's mistress found out from the other maids who despised Jamie's criminal past, which resulted in the immediate dismissal of the maid without her being able to plead her case to the lady. She also disappeared through the thick Scottish fog, finding a place elsewhere, in a tavern in Inverness. Jamie had never tried to find his passing lover, he knew of her pregnancy and would have liked to see the child, but fate decided otherwise.

In the hearts of many Scots, the defeat at the Battle of Culloden had marked the apogee of the power of the English crown over the lands of the Gaels. From then on, the very identity of Scotland had been annihilated. Clans, kilts, tartans and even bagpipes were now outlawed in the territory now dominated by the Anglicans. Many inhabitants left their homeland for the New World, a land sold as a promise by those who had set foot there, a place where everything was possible and where the smallest peasant had a chance to make a name for himself among the greatest.

Every day, dozens of people would step into the wilds of North Carolina after landing in the commercial harbor of Wilmington. For some, the trip was just one step in a well-laid plan, while for others, like you, the geography of the New World was already quite a challenge.

Your mother hadn't had your luck, the fever had decimated part of your traveling group, and so your numbers were cut in half. Over the weeks, Thomas Christie, the leader of your small Presbyterian community, witnessed the gradual loss of hope around him. The various displacements and threats received by the Native American tribes had not helped to raise the morale of the troops. So he had finally put his pride aside by temporarily submitting to the will of James Fraser, owner of the Fraser's Ridge lands.

This name was not unknown to you, far from it. As a teenager, your quest for identity led you to question your mother about your paternity. Alone, it was out of sheer spite that your mother had agreed to join Mr. Christie's little community. Like the other women deemed unclean by Mr. Christie, she had been forced to confess her sins before the rest of the congregation. Before that, Thomas Christie had asked your mother about it, and although you shouldn't have, your curiosity led you to listen. That's when the name James Fraser first came up, or rather Alex MacKenzie. Your mother had confessed that she had been tempted by this fiery-haired man while her mind was consumed with drink. Her description of the man to Mr. Christie left no doubt in her mind that he was the former Lord Broch Tuarach.

That vision of your mother on her knees, begging for forgiveness that no mortal could grant, made your blood run cold. The conclusion you drew had nothing to do with the facts themselves, simply that you had promised yourself you would never, as an adult, obey a man who would not be your father or your husband. The disease had taken her before you had time to question her further, however, and deep in your heart, a part of you needed to be explored.

When you arrived at Fraser's Ridge, only Roger MacKenzie had the courtesy, or more accurately, the patience, to extend greetings to you. The location of your little company was relatively far from the main house of Fraser's without being miles away. But the winds of change were thickening as the weeks went by and, from what you could see in Wilmington, a revolution was underway.

Although younger than her, you immediately hit it off with Malva Christie, the youngest of the family. Attracted by her strong nature, the young woman knew how to stand up to those around her, and that was the quality you admired most about her. Despite your unique birth circumstances, no one had ever really treated you differently. Discreet and particularly well-behaved, it was not uncommon for others to simply forget your presence.

Very quickly, by following Malva in her various moves, you had become close to the owner's wife, Claire. Talented healer, her precise and meticulous gestures as well as her knowledge seemed so important that sometimes you wondered if what she was telling you was true. Mrs. Fraser was a great source of knowledge and, along with Malva, you sometimes dreamed of taking her place. Your first meeting with Jamie was not until well after you had settled in, when the little church on Fraser's Ridge was finally built. It only took one look at him for your doubts to vanish, James Fraser was your father.

Because of his background, Thomas Christie couldn't stand to see you so close to Claire. Too well educated for a woman of her time, most people she met easily referred to her as a witch. You and Malva's interest in Mrs. Fraser's accomplishments undoubtedly reflected to him the image of his wife, who had been executed for witchcraft years before.

For the sole purpose of getting, you to stop wanting to join her, Tom Christie tended to have a heavy hand when it came to punishment. You and Malva would take turns bending over the table and pulling up your skirt without him ever taking the time to find out who had pushed the other into Claire's cabinet. However, it was obvious that this did not stop you from continuing to learn. The wife of the owner of Fraser's Ridge was not fooled though, she had also been there and could detect the signs that accompanied this kind of event.

However, your life took a strange turn after an evening with Malva. It was particularly late and neither of you seemed able to fall asleep. So, to deal with this, you sat around the fire and talked about things. Without really knowing why, the subject of your fatherhood came up. Malva's curiosity was sometimes so great that the part of you that admired her let down all your boundaries. It was the first time you had spoken relatively freely about this story and the words came out of your mouth as fluidly as possible. When Jamie's name came out, the expression on Malva's face changed dramatically, as if a part of her was jealous of your new situation, and the very next day her behavior toward you changed.

Although you were worried about potentially losing your friend for no reason, you continued to live as if everything was normal until she began to address you in an almost condescending and petty manner. She complained to her father that since your arrival you had been forcing her to meet you at Claire's, blaming you for most of her misbehavior. So, you accepted the punishment, since it was obvious that Mr. Christie would rather trust his daughter than the bastard daughter of a Scot who didn't know she existed.

#outlander #outlander imagines #claire fraser #claire x reader #jamie fraser #james fraser #thomas christie #malva christie #roger mackenzie #outlander fanfiction #blood of my blood

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scarletunit6 · 8 months ago

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IRISH FASHION: THE THREAD OF CELTIC HERITAGE

24 juin 2020

As I wished to present yet another facet of fashion in the Celtic world, I could hardly ignore the outstanding TV series Snáithe conceived by the graduate of Irish and Celtic studies Ciara Nic Chormaic and presented by the fashion blogger Ciara O’Doherty. Shown on Irish channel TG4 in 2018, the six-part documentary is in Irish (Gaeilge) as the title Snáithe meaning “thread” indicates. However, one can easily switch on the English subtitles and enjoy that magnificent series of illustrated interviews on the history and impact of Irish fashion. I am fond of it because I share her general conclusion that modern fashion, in our Celtic countries, can be firmly rooted in cultural heritage.

Indeed, Ciara O’Doherty answers the essential questions that I have often asked myself when visiting friends in Ireland or welcoming them here in Brittany: have the Irish a distinctive fashion style? Is that fashion influenced by the Irish heritage? And what does fashion reveal about the Irish people?

The six episodes do not follow a chronological order but deal rather with themes enriched by archive footage and photographs to complement interviews.

As the historian of Anglo-Irish literature Declan Kiberd explains in the series Wilde supported the free bodily movement and he thought that man should nurture some femininity. He used to say: “All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does and this is his.”

He did encourage androgyny (including the divided skirt created with his wife Constance), understanding the power of clothes.

No doubt his homosexuality which brought him to jail, to ultimate isolation and death in Paris, powerfully played a role in his vision. But seen from our modern perspective he was a fashion pioneer.

Summarised in part VI of the film, the idea that prominent and powerful people supported the creativeness of designers, but also the textile industry, runs all along the series.

For instance, some of the famous Irish-made laces such as Limerick lace and Carrickmacross lace were taught in schools funded by benefactors. Tweed was brought to London especially by Alice Hart, the British philanthropist who, after a trip to Donegal, was dismayed by the utter poverty (after the Great Famine). Therefore, she decided to revive the Donegal tweed. She sent the locals examples of design from Scottish tweeds and helped them find dyes using local plants.

Designers were supported by upper class women such as Lady Dunsany (the wife of the writer famous for his fairy tales) who publicized the “peasant chic” look. This was especially done when women were shot by photographers in cottages in the West of Ireland. And there again the famous Red Flannel Petticoat from the Aran Islands was especially appreciated as traditional dresses as shown by two photographers of the Paris-based Kahn Foundation, Marguerite Mespoulet and Madeleine Mignon who came to Ireland in May 1913.

Pictures from the Kahn foundation in the West of Ireland (1913)

www.nolwennfaligot.fr. (n.d.). IRISH FASHION: THE THREAD OF CELTIC HERITAGE. [online] Available at: https://www.nolwennfaligot.fr/amp/irish-fashion. ‌

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thebrochtuarachs · 3 years ago

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Something in the Rain - “A Month Apart, Part 2”

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry this chapter came a little bit later than I intended but here it is. I've had some family things I need to take care of so in order to rest, the writing got put on hold. But do know that this story is on my mind and I hope you enjoy this update :) Stay safe and as always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.

A modern day meet cute instance between Jamie and Claire.

AO3 / C1: A Day In June / C2: Definitely, Maybe / C3: So We Meet Again / C4: Friday Lunch / C5: Finding Solid Ground / C6: Situations / C7: Interruptions / C8: A Month Apart, Part 1

XXXXX

The call was scheduled beginning Claire’s lunch and Jamie’s dinner. They opted for this time since Claire’s schedule was clear for the rest of the afternoon and Jamie was happy to stay up late for this. Her supposed agenda that day was to get some research and paperwork done but after what happened yesterday, she knew they needed to have a conversation.

Gathering her laptop, lunch and paperwork, she settled on her desk and waited for Jamie’s call. And right on time, his caller ID pops up in her laptop and she accepts.

“Hi, Claire.” Jamie greeted from the other line. Just by the way he addressed her so formally immediately told Claire just how nervous he was.

“Hi, Jamie.” she chimed back. Hoping to light the mood, she decided to take the lead in the conversation. “What time did you get home?”

“Erm, got home around 6:30, 7:00PM. Freshened up a bit and for food - well,” he held up the take out box from the table to show to Claire. “Thanks for these” It was a box of their favorite comfort food and Jamie could not feel any much more relief. “How about you, what’s for lunch?”

“Oh, it’s sub day today here at the hospital. So got the biggest one I could order to last me the day.”

“Any food over here in Scotland ye miss?”

“Honestly, the chicken! I’ve tried some here but nothing tops Mrs. Kim’s” As Claire shared that sentiment, Jamie took one wing on his mouth, prompting Claire to roll her eyes. “Right, rub it in, will you”

“Don’t worry, I’ll treat ye to some once yer back.”

“I’ll record that raincheck” After a short laugh, the line went silent. They both knew it was time to address the elephant in the room.

“Claire, I want to let ye know what happened yesterday.” Jamie began. Claire was silent, a hesitation etched on her face.

“Are you sure? You don’t really have to -” Claire replied, hesitation etched on her face. The past three months of Jamie and Claire dating has been kept much in the down low with none of the tabloids catching drift of one of Scotland’s most eligible with the pediatric doc. It was unusual but they accepted that gift of privacy. It allowed for them to get to know each other freely and without much pressure so far.

But now, things have slightly changed with Jamie back in the spotlight, worse, linked to another woman. With all the things they’ve discussed so far, these - their past, the media - were not one of them yet. With that, it’s not that Claire didn’t want to hear Jamie’s story - it’s that she didn’t want him to feel forced to share something he or they aren’t ready to talk about yet.

“Just...please” he pleaded.

Claire took a swig of her coffee and nodded.

Flashback

Jamie was nearing his house when his father suddenly called. Clicking the screen on his dashboard, he answered his call.

“Yes, Da?”

“Hi lad, where are ye?” Brian Fraser spoke from the other line.

“I’m near home now. Why?”

“I just got off the phone with Lord Dunsany and he’s inviting the family for dinner.”

“Where will it be?”

“At the Number One”

“Alright, I’ll be there in 20, see you and ma, I hope!”

Jamie sighed but putting his family first overweighed whatever he was thinking about.

He honestly didn't like the Dunsany's that much. There was an air to them that didn't sit well with him but he shrugs them off as 1.) They are long time family friends, and more importantly, 2.) long time business partners.

Both their families have benefited from a decades-long relationship that going to unexpected dinners like this is something he just has to do once in a while. He turns his car to the next corner and heads to the restaurant.

Arriving, he hands his car to the valet and enters the restaurant to find their table. He should not have been surprised but seated on their table was his mam and da, the elder Dunsany’s and their eldest daughter, Geneva.

Again, after knowing each other for a long time, Jamie isn’t and wasn’t blind to Geneva’s attempts to flirt and get him. He was able to avoid it for so long as he’s always been respectfully direct with declining her advances. But as they grow older, the more persistent not only Geneva, but little by little, their entire family is joining in this cause to get them together.

Jamie took a deep breath and prepared himself for whatever was to come. He sat down and immediately took note of the other people he wished were there. “Hi Mam, Da” he greeted his parents with a kiss on the cheek for his mother. He proceeded to his seat, acknowledging their guests. “Lord, Lady Dunsany, Geneva” he bowed to them and they returned his greeting. “Is Gideon and Isobel not joining us?

“They had other things to do” Geneva quickly replied, leaving it at that.

The night proceeded as usual, business talk over dinner. The Dunsanys are looking to expand their real estate business to the Americas and want to get the Frasers opinion on their dealings. On the topic at hand, the dinner was quite enjoyable as it was a conversation Jamie was happy to chime in.

Geneva, to his few observations, was relatively quiet for some reason. Maybe because she didn’t understand it as much since she wasn’t as involved in the family business unlike his siblings, opting to work as a brand ambassador or influencer through her big social media following.

But it didn’t feel like that to Jamie. It seemed like she was waiting for something to happen or come up. She kept looking at her father urging him to do something but he discreetly pacified her everytime she got impatient.

After a few more minutes, Jamie’s hunch would prove right.

“So, in addition to the planned expansion, Geneva here has finally accepted our offer to join the business and she’ll be heading to the U.S. to study and eventually, train and oversee the project on behalf of us.” Lord Dunsany shared. The announcement came as a shock to the Frasers though they didn’t let it show. They offered their congratulations to Geneva which she graciously received.

“Jamie, lad - “ It was Lady Dunsany’s turn to speak. “We’ve heard in the past from your parents that you’ve been planning to take further studies as well. Why not accompany Geneva and study overseas together?”

“Your family also has some business in America. You can continue to work as well from there if you wish be. Plus, it’ll give you time to maybe get to know our little girl better.”

So, there it was. Lady Dunsany winked at his direction as she and Lord Dunsany tag-teamed to put out this request. Geneva, for her part, nodded furiously and was shameless at showing her agreement to their proposal. Her eyes gleamed with hope as if it was already a done deal.

Jamie was dumbfounded on their very bold request. He looked at his parents for help but they seem to be at a loss of words as well.

“I, uhm, - “ Jamie braced himself, unsure what the consequences of this be. “Thank ye of thinking of me but I have to respectfully decline the offer.”

“Do ye not want to study anymore? You don’t have to decide right now about this, please take your time to consider. We’re not in a rush anyway.” Lord Dunsany replied, trying to control the conversation once again. However, his last statement sent death glares down his direction from his daughter.

“No, it is still in my plans.” was Jamie’s plain answer. The table was silent for a good 10 seconds when the implication of his response sunk in.

“Are you saying it’s me you don’t want to be with?” Geneva’s tone was calm and angry, her resolve was slowly dissipating, raising everyone alert on the table.

“No, it’s not like that. It’s more of me...not wanting to leave someone behind.”

Geneva had a confused look while all four parents’ interest piqued at this new information. Jamie closed his eyes to muster the courage to get through the next minutes. He turned to his parents, addressing them directly, while being mindful of their guests.

“This is not how I imagined telling ye guys this, and of course to you Lord and Lady Dunsany, Geneva” he acknowledged them one by one before focusing on his parents again. “But I’ve started seeing someone and it’s fairly new...”

“That is ridiculous! You haven’t been seen with anyone in ages! I mean I would know if you are, our social circles are not that wide…” Geneva started reasoning to herself. “Unless… she’s not?”

Jamie didn’t react or say anything that would give Geneva or the Dunsany’s any more ideas they can prod on.

Geneva quickly fetched her phone and nibbled with it. She turned to the guests and excused herself. “I’m sorry everyone but I have to leave. Jamie, walk me to the car?”

Jamie nodded and stood up. He may have dropped a ball on her but he’s still a gentleman.

On the way out of the restaurant, he can hear more interrogation from Geneva in his periphery. “Who is she? Do I know her? Is she from here? Is she even real?”

It was one fast question after the other and Jamie didn’t bat an eye but rather, lead her by the arm to get her going a little bit faster. Once they were out, he didn’t notice anyone except her car and driver. He escorted her in and bid her simple goodbye.The last thing he heard Geneva say was it wasn’t over and that they’re going to have another talk on this.

When he got back to the table, the foursome was on to dessert, the earlier conversation seemingly forgotten and passed. When dinner was over, they went their separate ways.

Jamie walked his parents to their car when Brian made a joke to break the ice. “What a night, huh?” Ellen giggled which made their son comfortable speaking with them.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I didn’t mean to make it awkward but I couldn’t find a way to lie about it or give them false hope.” Jamie explained and Brian and Ellen were happy to give him some slack as he knew it was the right thing to do.

“I know, son. But what we are more surprised to hear is about your new friend.” Ellen pried and the smile that Jamie flashed just told them this was different. “What’s her name?”

“Her name is Claire” Jamie shared.

“And?”

Jamie jokingly shrugged. “She’s a doctor and we met around 3 months ago.”

“3 months and we haven’t heard of her?”

“Well, in my defense, Angus and Rupert have met her. I assumed they would babble it straight to ye.”

Brian and Ellen was just shaking their head. “Well, we need to remedy that, lad. If yer ready or such, we’d love to meet her.”

“So that’s what happened last night. As for the picture, I’m guessing there’s a pap I did not see outside the restaurant and - my parents want to meet ye.“ Jamie said in conclusion. “I mean there’s no pressure really but I wanted to let ye know.”

“Oh, wow. Okay.” Claire took a bite of her sandwich and sip of water. “So, how are you in all this?”

“What?” that was the last question Jamie thought Claire would ask. “How am I?”

“Yeah, I mean what are you feeling?” she looked genuinely concerned and it baffled him.

“Is this some sort of reverse psychology thing cause I know you have questions Claire and I’m more than happy to answer them”

Claire smiled briefly and raised a hand to settle him. “I know you are and I do have them. And this is not some psychology thing too” she laughed at that. “But before anything else, I want to know how you are.”

“I - “ Jamie let out a breath and released a tension he didn’t know he was holding in. He wants to be open to Claire but he wasn’t sure just how much yet. Their growth has been slow, gradual, and intentional, and the pace was working well for the both of them. But this situation did not fit that criteria.

“It’s okay” Claire assured him, breaking his thoughts and easing his hesitation.

Jamie nodded and began. “With Geneva and the photo, I’m frustrated. I hope you know that this part of my life is not something I wanted to hide from you, Geneva especially. It’s just not something I thought about us talking about yet. With the media, maybe I was buying us some time before they got a whip of this, of us, when this needs to be public, and of course, I need to know how you feel about that, but then again, conversations for a later time. As for my parents, a little anxious but more intrigued on how you feel about it.” He was out of breath after explaining that it was his turn to take a sip of water.

“Jamie” Claire called and Jamie leaned on his screen closer. “I honestly don’t know what exactly to feel about Geneva at the moment. I get it, you have a long history and you might feel it doesn’t but it amounts to a little something. Was I surprised? Definitely. Jealous, to be honest, surprisingly not. But I would love it if you could tell me more about this and your family when I get back.”

“I’ll tell ye everything, Claire” Jamie affirmed.

“Doesn’t have to be everything at once” Claire joked and thankfully, Jamie laughed. “As for meeting your parents…”

“You don’t have to decide on that now, Claire.”

“I know. No pressure . But...” Claire smiled. “...if you feel like the time is right, let me know.”

Jamie felt relief as he flashed a breathless smile, looked up and wiped his face with his hands. Claire, on her end, put her elbow up on the table, leaned her head on her hand, and just observed him.

“Happy?” she asked.

“Very” Jamie replied. “I canna wait till you’re back, Sassenach.”

“I know, me too. Just one more week. Now,” Claire shuffled some papers around. “I do need to get back to work and you need to go to sleep”

“Aaah” Jamie pouted and looked at his watch, it was almost 10PM. “I can stay a little bit more, keep ye company.”

“Fine, but don’t blame me if you come in late to work tomorrow.”

“Eh, can’t promise that.” Jamie jokingly shrugged. “So, how’s your day so far?”

And just like that, after an uncertain overnight, everything was back to its good place again.

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