#maviemesregles fic

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Finally, the chapter is here. It took a while to get it done and it's been a struggle in some ways.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it despite long waiting :)

Your comments mean the world to me even though I don't always have time to answer each of you. <3

BIG thanks to my beta @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur <3 She's truly a gem and has saved this chapter from miserable failure. I can't give you enough credits, Anne. But I'm glad to have you on this journey with me.

Part II will follow shortly after this one, possibly on Thursday :)

P.S. For the better atmosphere I recommend you to put on Dire Straits song "Romeo and Juliet" :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJmER493F4U

A link for AO3.

Enjoy! ♥

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

                                   CHAPTER IV: Lovestruck. Part I

"I'm taking ye on a wee trip, Claire." Jamie stood in the doorway of the locker room, car keys in his right hand. "Ye need fresh air, ye look like yer about to fall down".

My mind froze for a second taken aback by his (dashing as always) appearance.

"Jamie, I can't. I -"

He did not let me finish raising his hand up, gesturing me to be quiet.

"There is no 'I can't' or 'No'. I dinna accept that." He stepped closer. "Maybe I am no doctor but I still can see when someone's worn out."

To be very honest he was right. In the last week, I’ve had ten major surgeries, several new patients to care for. I promised Terry to fill in for her and worked two additional shifts. And just thirty minutes ago I finished partial colectomy. I felt completely drained.

“But what about our… date?” I looked at him trying to find my keys buried in the depths of the bag. The word “date” still sounded strange, and sometimes inappropriate for me (I did not know if we were dating or having a friendship with benefits).

“A wee change of plan.” Jamie clicked his tongue, his hand laid at the back of my neck. “This will be our date then. Just ye, me and some nature.” 

He pressed a quick kiss on the spot behind my ear. That soft, tender one that made me wonder, could this be forever? Or will we end up staying just Claire and just Jamie having fun?

"Take her will ye! She willna listen to me," smirked Geillis. "I'll take care of yer wee cheetie while yer away. So dinna fash, lovies.”

I rolled my eyes. Jamie coughed clearly trying to hide a laugh.

“I promise I willna be angry at ye for ruining our cinema time tradition. Just next time it’s my turn to choose a movie”. And just like that, grabbing the house keys from my hands she was gone.

“Tell me there is a hot shower where you’re taking me and I can borrow one of your gym's t-shirts for sleeping?” My head dropped back, fitting perfectly in the space between his collarbone and jaw.

Jamie’s hands circled around my waist locking just above my navel.

“There is a bath, Sassenach. An improvement to yer wee shower.” He nuzzled his nose against my hair. “And I can assure ye, ye willna need a sleeping shirt.”

A habit of falling asleep almost anywhere was my superpower. After we got into Jamie’s crossover Peugeot with Tesco groceries for our breakfast I immediately dozed off. The last time I sat in his car was two weeks ago, exactly three days after our first real date as Jamie called it. 

Appearing at the hospital without any warning, he volunteered to bring me home after work. Though the GPS in Jamie’s phone had announced that the distance between Braid Road and Lauderdale street was just fifteen minutes I didn’t walk out of the car for at least thirty. I laughed needing to admit that sex in the car is not as comfortable as it looks on TV. Jamie frantically searched the glovebox for a condom while creating a mess of tissues, mints, and papers. I struggled with the front seat that didn’t want to go down. Though in the end, nothing was an obstacle. Later that evening as I prepared for bed, I welcomed the hickey starting to bloom bright purple on my neck.

I felt very much cozy in his car (despite previous activity here). Jamie had turned the seat warmer on (making fun of me for not handling Scottish weather “Ye English, weak creatures”). Shamelessly, I stole his coat to cover my always-cold-legs. The soft blur of Mark Knopfler’s voice on the radio and passing lights were the ones that made me sleepy. I awoke sometime later, noticing the familiar scenery disappeared and the darkness of the countryside had eaten all the electric lights. Jamie’s hand rested on my knee, his thumb drawing patterns that he only knew. He had a dreamy, faraway look about him. There was no GPS this time. Jamie knew his way, leading us through the Highlands where the history was almost palpable. Like that time (four days after car sex) when I had come back from a late shift at the hospital and called him.

It was the day I seemed to be annoyed with everything and everybody. I felt annoyed with Geillis and her endless discussion about her latest sexual encounter. With Adso for weeing on my fluffy bathroom rug. Even my touchpad on my phone betrayed me! Wasting my time on my coffee break with coffee that tasted like an old sock. Does it ever stop raining? And Jamie left for a four day trip to Broch Mordha. But most of all I was annoyed with myself for coming to the realization that I actually missed him.

I was exhausted. Too tired to cook, I ate three spoons of quinoa cold straight out of the fridge. Falling into bed, I felt each sore muscle in my back as I stared into the ceiling for minutes or possibly hours. I managed to get out of my clothes and just crawl under the duvet not showered, naked, with makeup on. Breaking all of my three own rules.

Jamie’s number was dialled in seconds without any hesitation (my fourth rule was broken as well). He picked up after five long beeps (I actually counted).

“Sassenach?” His voice deep with sleep.

Christ. What a smart one you are, Beauchamp. Normal people sleep at one am. He was asleep, clearly.

“Claire?” He shifted, readjusting position, sheets rustling in the background. “If someone abducted ye and yer calling me now to come and get ye, ye gotta let me know. Otherwise, I really would like to get back to my warm pillow. Of course, it’s not as nice as when yer with me but…”

There was banter in his voice but suddenly I felt ashamed, foolish for calling him like that. (Hoping for what exactly? )

"I’m sorry. I did not realize it was so late." 

The incoherent mumbling poured out of me then. I was telling him all about how annoyed I was all day, about the rug I probably would have to throw away, how can’t I sleep now and a million other things before he finally shushed me.

“I miss ye too, Sassenach.”

My mind stilled then. The warmth rising up somewhere inside, behind my breastbone and running down to my cold fingers and toes, creating the sun under my skin.

“Do ye want me to tell ye a story to sleep?”

He told me then all about ancient castles, about the brave Highlanders and the battles they fought, Jacobite rebellions, mythical creatures and tales of the mountains. He was a born storyteller.  Charming in fact. 

I had fallen asleep feeling his presence even though he was away.

Jamie looked like he belonged here. With the mountains and grassy moors. With Knopfler’s voice singing "You and me, babe, how about it?".

“I did not know you were Dire Straits fan”. The smile crept in and took possession of my lips as I whispered my silent observation. His eyes fixed on me for mere seconds but long enough to drown in the blue depths of them once again. He looked at me in a way that made me shiver, made me feel a growing warmth mixed with lust that went deep down to the marrow of my bones. The navy of his slightly slanted eyes dug inside and stamped a mark at the very bottom of my core. That same look he gave me when I sat only-knickers-on at his bed legs crossed some days ago.

I could feel the blue marks getting born under my skin at the tender layer of paleness on my thighs where he held me just minutes ago (the bitterness of vague pain as his fingers pressed onto the tops of my flesh and the hot wave of my release making my stomach turn). Jamie’s place was a small studio on the outskirts of Edinburgh. It felt half empty and lonely, screamed for a touch of coziness. He’d explained he stays mostly in Broch Mordha with family. After his mom died a couple of years ago there was an aching hole and need for them to be together.

Jamie fell silent when we stood in the shower, hot water washing off the memories of my own parent's death. We slept. Together, limbs tangled under the rumpled sheets, Jamie’s warm hands soothing the marks he had left on me. That morning I’d said to him I wanted it easy and fun. “I don’t want to hurt you or myself. I want us to live in this moment. Just Claire and Jamie. No promises no regrets.”

“ I wouldna wish to hurt ye, Sassenach. Not ever.”

Then he stated more than asked, “It’s just Claire and Jamie having fun, see where it leads us, aye?”

For two nights, I dreamt about him. Of touching him. Of his swollen lip from my kiss. Of the way his breath hitched when he whispered “Claire”. I was painfully, utterly aware of him, of his presence making residence somewhere deep inside me. I lived with his smell (sharp and clean, hay and crisp air) which seemed to be everywhere, in each cell of mine and at the back of my throat.

Now my life consisted of flirty texting nonstop (I did not know I was able to do that being 32 years old anymore), of occasional Skype sessions when Jamie was away to Broch Mordha (me with a messy curly bun and old pajamas, glass of wine in one hand and Adso snuggling beside me; Jamie bare chest, bloody furnace he was, with whisky and his nieces and nephews popping to the screen from time to time). 

One of those evenings young Jamie had asked his uncle who I was. (“that doctor lady ye talk a lot with, Ma says ye fancy her, is she yer girlfriend?”)

My heart skips a bit then waiting for Jamie’s answer. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to hear it (as if I hoped for something more, just drop it, Beauchamp). By now I’ve spent enough time with Jamie to know that his face could not hide any emotion. He would be the worst liar on Earth and there’s nothing that could be done about it. It was all there. Written on his face and easy for anyone to read. The tips of his ears became scarlet red as he shot a look to me on the screen and then back to his nephew who now was waving to me.

“Well, I do fancy Claire, aye.”

Before my smitten mind could conjure up any appropriate response wee Maggie was in the screen, climbing onto Jamie’s lap and pointing her little finger at me.

“Will ye marry her then, uncle Jamie?”

I choked on my wine and nearly spilled it on peacefully sleeping Adso.

“Should I call her doctor Claire, uncle Jamie?” Little girl shifted on Jamie’s laps looking up at him.

“Noooo, we should call her Auntie Claire!” Her brother grinned back.

“Yer wee devils, ye’ll make a lady uncomfortable and we dinna want that, right? Let yer uncle talk in peace. Jenny, mo cridhe?”

It was the voice of Brian Fraser. It was hard not to recognize as it had the same soft blur to it as Jamie’s. I haven’t seen him, neither the rest of Jamie’s family. Only his nephew and niece. It was a territory which was sort of forbidden to trespass. Because if we did it would mean we have something more than just a fling. The truth was we both did not know what it was between us. And what we wanted it to be?

“ C’mon. Get off yer uncle, the two of ye. There’s warm milk and shortbread cookies in the kitchen.” Jenny’s hands appeared on the screen helping the children off Jamie’s lap.

Of course, Jamie talked about me with his family. I did not know what he’d shared and how much they knew but I was grateful for them for respecting my private boundaries. I wasn’t ready to meet them but also there was never a discussion of such a possibility. It’s just that they knew about the existence of Claire Beauchamp as I knew Jamie’s family was very important to him. It was enough.

When we arrived at our final destination, it was pitch dark outside. On the way here I saw the sign that said Loch Lomond. We stood in front of the grey stoned cottage surrounded by mountains peeking out in the darkness. The stillness and quietness of the place was disturbed by the only sound of car engine still running on. A narrow stone walkway with shrubs of French Hydrangea and Azalea alongside led straight to a big wooden door. “Taigh Beann” it said at the very top of it, carved into the bronze plate that hung above.

“Gaelic.” Jamie explained setting our groceries bags down. “It means House of the Mountains.”

The inside reminded me of a house of my grandparents where I spent many summers until the age of five. It was filled with all kinds of vases and figurines, large, dusty paintings of nature in gold frames, books of all imaginable kinds. The old, burgundy patterned rug laid in the living room where I squealed happily to find a fireplace. In the centre stood big brown leather couch the kind I hated in the summer because it made my skin stick to it. In the corner where green velvet armchair nestled, we found an oak round table. The bedroom was small but light. The bed was centered under a glorious skylight offering the promise of a magnificent view of a starry night sky. But the main attraction was the bathroom. My mouth dropped open and I grabbed Jamie’s hand in excitement. What I saw was stunningly beautiful. The floor was lined with marble tiles, the windows extended from floor to ceiling and ran the length of the wall. Imagine what breathtaking scenery might be outside. The centerpiece of the room was a large clawfoot bathtub big enough for two.

“I told ye there’s an improvement to yer shower, Sassenach” Jamie winked leaving me to stand astonished by the view.

Sometime later I sat in the armchair that Jamie had moved for me to the fireplace (saying that I probably lived in Spain or Greece in my previous life). He himself retreated to the kitchen with a promise of dinner. I watched the flames dance and collide together all the same as we did. We’ve known each other for the past four weeks but sometimes it felt like a lifetime. 

Our days together consisted of talking about everything and nothing, snuggling up on my couch watching Netflix, of Jamie cuddling Adso all the time. Of me ordering takeaways and only cooking breakfasts in case if Jamie stayed for the night. We used to hit the pubs once a week and get obnoxiously drunk. Then, of course, there was sex. And some more sex. We were travelling back and forth between my apartment and his studio. Jamie had fixed something in my car after he had driven it once cursing that I could have killed myself and how on earth I did not hear that sound? His toothbrush that we picked up together at Boots now lived in my bathroom and my pink cat pajamas took a residence in his closet. At the times we were not together my phone buzzed every other hour. We talked so much that I had to consider having a second mobile phone not to let my private life intervene with work. And suddenly now it struck me. What is going on Beauchamp? What has happened to you?

“I don’t like it.”  My fingers typed a text hitting the button Send to Geillis.

Three dots appeared.

“What’s that?”

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“Ye mean what he has in his pants? I thought it was all perfect till now…”

Before I could reply to her in a hateful manner another two texts appeared on the screen.

“Did he bring ye to a dark forest and now ye need help to escape? What was that movie about serial killer we watched..?”

“All joking aside, what’s wrong, Claire?”

My teeth sunk into the bottom lip as I tried to conclude what I felt. Control. There it was. I was losing it. Control over the situation, my feelings, over myself. Suddenly all my life always ordered and stable went down the hill adjusting to one James Fraser. I didn’t realize just till now how much I allowed him to creep under my skin in such a short time. Usual Claire wouldn’t let anyone take her away to some trip on a whim. At least I would have bartered with him or set my conditions.

A painful lump in my throat seemed to travel down and settle around my heart squeezing it. I thought there was actual physical pain. I knew what made me feel so insecure. It was the way Jamie made me feel. Safe, cherished, loved (?). He was always there. Ready to be my strength and help. My safe place to come back to, where all my masks would come off and my vulnerable self stands. 

Like the time I caught a cold but have been so busy I had no time even to take any medicine.

Geillis dropped a pharmacy bag on my lap with a smirk on her face. “That’s from yer laddie. I dinna recall Frank ever did it to ye.” Inside there was a box of paper tissues, lozenges for sore throat, a box of Theraflu, and a little jar that looked like a jam with a yellow sticky note on it.

“I’m sure yer to busy being wrists-deep into a human that ye dinna have time to get any medicine. Even Jenny heard yer cough over the phone yesterday. Btw, that’s her handmade raspberry jam, especially for ye. I couldna get it to ye myself, have business at the brewery. Take care. Xxx.”

I grabbed a tissue from the box pretending I had a runny nose but in truth, there was a swell of tears. Geillis only smiled and left me alone staring at the bag Jamie put together for me.

Or the time when I had to cancel our date being summoned to work.

There were times I felt confident in what I was doing. But there were moments when even years of studying and experience did not give me enough confidence facing the difficult surgeries. I was half ready for the theatre play we were going to visit when our plans got interrupted. I had to be in the surgery for repair of aneurysm. Calling Jamie and mumbling “Sorry” every other second I could not stop myself from letting him know that I was actually anxious.

“There also might be a loss of blood flow to the legs from a blood clot…”

" Ye'll do just fine, Sassenach. Dinna fash. Ye have done this before, right?” He asked softly.

“Yes. But you can never guess possible complications and…” I sighed getting into my car. “Do ye think I am a bad surgeon?”

“I dinna think that, Claire. I ken that yer an excellent one. And ye shouldna ever doubt yerself. How long will it take?”

“ Three to five hours.”

“ I’m verra proud of ye, Sassenach.”

Despite my worries, the surgery went smooth. The patient was sent to ICU and was stable. I felt if the train ran over me. It was 6 am by the time I finally made it out of the hospital. Jamie’s car was standing outside and I rubbed my eyes thinking I’m imagining it. I wasn’t.

“What are you doing here?” I asked when I reached the car. “How long have you been here?”

Jamie took a sip of coffee, handing me a paper Starbucks cup.

“About two and a half hours I suppose. Didna want to miss ye.”

“Oh Jamie” I bit my lip and locked arms around his neck, my head dropped to his chest. “You didn’t need to do it but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Aye, I did.” His lips softly brushed over my temple. “How did it go?”

“Very well.” I whispered feeling my eyelids burn with the exhaustion of doing surgery for four hours.

Despite my weak protests, he brought me home. Sent me into the shower and by the time I was done he’d made scrambled eggs for me, watched that I ate all of it, loaded the dishwasher, cleaned up Adso’s litter tray and finally put me to bed as if I was a child. On the edge of sleep, I reached for his cheek, cupping it gently. “Where did you come from? Surely you’re not real”

He chuckled catching my hand to plant a kiss on each finger. “As far as I ken Ellen and Brian Frasers are the ones to blame for my existence. Sleep now, mo duinne.”

Another text from Geillis popped on the screen.

“Do ye like him?”

There I typed something I was afraid to acknowledge, something I would not be able to say out loud. But something that my fingers managed to write down on a cold white screen.

“I think I’m falling for him, Geillis. And it scares me. It scares the hell out of me.”

Three dots appeared and then stopped. And appeared again.

“Oh yer my wee poor thing. I tell ye this. Go with the flow, dinna force things but dinna resist either. I bet the lad likes ye more than ye think. He likes ye, ye like him. Just let it happen, Claire. It will lead ye to something eventually. And if ye need my shoulder to cry on, I am always there for ye.”

* * *

James Fraser was never sure what love is or what it felt like. Of course, he loved his family. He loved his sister and his nephews. Jamie would have turned the world upside down for them. He loved Ian who was like a brother to him. At the age of thirteen, Jamie thought he was in love with the neighbour’s daughter Maryl. She was bonnie. Tall and elegant with long ruddy hair just like his. He loved the feeling when they kissed. But then Brian Fraser told his youngest son that when he would meet the right woman he’ll feel it. From that time on Jamie has always remembered his Da’s words. Every time he tried to catch that feeling but it never was right. Until the moment he met Claire Beauchamp. It was as a stab into his heart and she was the only one who could stop the bleeding. As much as he tried to understand how this woman can make him want to ravish her until there’s nothing left of her and at the same time cradle and love her as the most precious thing in the world he still couldn’t. But Jamie knew he was falling in love with her and she would be the end of him.

Jamie’s voice was soft and slightly husky as he murmured along with the music playing from his phone. The kitchen was filled with a delicious smell of the meat he’d cooked and I needed to smile at the candles he had put on the table. Who would think there was a romantic inside this big Scot. My heart shattered just a bit with a sound of old cracks in it with each step I took finally reaching him from the back.

“Sassenach.”

My hands circled around him, face pressed to his broad back.

“You want to know a secret?”

“I do if it is something yer willing to share”. I could feel him smile without a need to see his face.

“I fancy you, Jamie. Very much.” My confession mirrored his that was said days ago.

“Do ye now, mo ghraidh?” He turned then to me grinning.

“What does it mean? You called me that before.” Now I smiled being trapped in his arms.

“I tell ye sometime later.” Jamie leaned in to kiss me. For a second it made me forget about our dinner. But he pulled off before I could make further implications on him.

“I have a lot of excellent plans for us tomorrow.”

“Oh do you then?” I could not resist patting his arse.

He smiled.

“Oh aye. I do.”

The rain started to fall down washing the day off as well as my worries.

[ao3feed-jamiexclaire]

by maviemesregles

Crowded Marseille coastline in August brings the two together again. Under french sun would they remember as it was? The way they said goodbye some time ago promising to forget.

Words: 370, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon, Outlander (TV), Outlander & Related Fandoms

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Claire Beauchamp, Jamie Fraser

Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, WEE Fic, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Feels

[maviemesregles]

OKAY, you guys, I know I’m being very mean by promising and not actually posting on time but the uni got the better of me and I’ve been super busy lately. BUT there is two chapters on the way! In fact, it is one big chapter but I wanted to split it into two parts, so currently I’m finishing second one. First one was written long ago but I wasn’t happy with the outcome 100%. So not to overpromise I just might say that Part | should come Friday or during the weekends and Part II shall be posted on Wednesday! You’ll have a short break between the two so I hope it’ll make it up to you for waiting so long. <3

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Angst is around the corner, brace yourself.

Anne @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur​, thanks once again  💜

X

Read on AO3

A/N: ghràdhach aon - dear one M'eudail - my treasure

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

Chapter IV: Lovestruck. Part I

Chapter V: Lovestruck. Part II

Chapter VI: Flecks of Sun

Chapter VII: Mince pies & baubles

Chapter VIII: Home

                                  Chapter IX: Once upon a dream

Claire's face was pale and her forehead clammy. Despite her telling Jamie that she was "totally fine," did nothing to reassure him. He dismissed her weak attempts to convince him that she was okay and carried her through A&E doors. Before he could ask for help, Joe Abernathy appeared in front of him like some sort of a wizard from Harry Potter.

“James?” Joe queried while scanning Claire’s limp figure in his arms, he pointed towards the stretcher. “Put her down there. What happened?”

Carefully lowering her down, Jamie felt he was finally able to breathe for the first since he found Claire crouched on the floor in their bathroom.

“I found her, pale as a sheet of white paper, laying on the bathroom floor.”  Nervously Jamie ran his hand through his hair.

“Alright, don’t worry,” Joe patted Jamie on the shoulder, “It doesn’t look like an emergency since our Lady Jane can swear and protest.”

And that was true. Claire who was now pushed on the stretcher down the hall cursed, demanded them to let her go all while threatening to vomit if they continue bouncing her.

Doctor Abernathy turned to Jamie examining his face. The thin line of sweat glistened on his forehead as he nervously kept fidgeting his hands.

“Right, my lad. You need to calm down,” Joe waved his hand, summoning a young nurse that observed the scene earlier. “Katy, please, bring this gentleman to my office.”

Joe smirked at Jamie, lowering his voice. “There’s a bit of whisky in the first drawer. Please, help yourself. And don’t worry, I’m going to check on Claire and not let her out of my sight.”

* * *

I exhaled happily feeling the steady surface of the bed under me, instead of moving nightmare called a stretcher. The escalating desire to vomit had passed and now only slight nausea kept lingering in the pit of my stomach. The door opened and blonde nurse I’ve never seen before casually strolled to my bed, her trainers shuffled over the linoleum.

“How are you feeling, Dr. Beauchamp?” Flora as her name badge said, smiled at me, wrapping a blood pressure cuff around my arm.

“Like I was run over by a bloody train” I grunted, closing my eyes. It felt as if ages passed before she finally scribbled down my blood pressure along with pulse and respiratory rate.

When Joe stepped in I was a prisoner to the IV fluids and the blasted pole, it was hanging on. He got the same answer that I had given the nurse before.  “It’s that sushi, Joe. And you know what? It’s entirely your fault. I should have chosen something else for lunch.”

“Is there any chance you might be pregnant, Claire?” Joe looked at me tentatively. I almost choked on the glass of water. For whatever reason, I felt a deep flush creep up my neck, all the way to my cheeks.

“I...No,” Shaking my head, I put the glass aside. “No, it’s not possible.”

Joe raised his eyebrows, clearly showing that I didn’t sound convincing enough.

“I can’t be pregnant. I’m on the pill.”

It was one evening a few months ago when on the way home I made a stop at the pharmacy. I found Jamie in the bathroom, loading the washing machine. He asked “What’s this?” when I casually placed a pink pillbox on the shelf. Jamie never pressured me with anything. And that time as he brushed his lips over my temple he said I did not need to take them. I shushed him, catching his lower lip between mine and confessed that I wanted this. I wanted him.

“Well, we’ll make the test anyway, just to make sure. Pills do fail sometimes” Joe squeezed my hand gently.

* * *

The cold, sickening feeling crawled up from my stomach and took residency in my throat. I could not breathe, feeling the tears snake down my cheeks.

"Repeat what you just said,” I whispered as Frank turned around, hands bracing the windowsill. I  could see the muscles under his shirt tighten and his hands curled into fists.

“I said, how can we ever be a proper family if my wife cannot give me a child?”

My heart hammered in my chest, replacing a painful lump with awakening anger.

“Are you saying it is all my fault? How can you be so sure it’s not you, Frank?”

“Sassenach?” Jamie’s hand rested on my knee startling me out of vague memory. “Are ye alright?”

I nodded, staring at a piece of paper with the HCG test in my hands.

“Weel, will ye tell me, Claire?” Jamie turned right, parking the car on the side of the road. He turned to me, those blue eyes staring deep into my soul. My palms were damp as I reached for his hand. My heart was beating frantically in my ribcage, I only managed to open and close my mouth, with no sound coming out. I was shaking.

“Claire, fer God’s sake, please tell me.” He leaned closer, the early morning sun dyeing his hair in rich amber. “Ye scared the hell out of me tonight. What is it? Are ye sick?”

“I’m pregnant.”

The universe had stopped then. Everything suspended around us and the only thing I could hear is my heart thumping in my chest. I wasn’t sure if my vision blurred or Jamie was really crying until he pressed me closer, my body melting into his. I could feel his wet cheek under my lips and I realised I was crying too. I kissed his face until his ragged breathing stopped and he took me by the shoulders, looking at me as if I wasn’t real. I did not see him cry before. He hadn’t said a word and fear started creeping up, crawling into the tiniest, fragile corners of my being.

“Jamie,” my whisper raspy “Are you happy?” He leaned down then, to lay his head on my perfectly flat stomach.

“I never thought I could be happier. But you’ve just made me so, Sassenach.”

I thought I had forgotten how to breathe, my mind swimming in a cocktail of emotions.

“I’m going to be a Da .” He smiled, thumb smoothing the rumpled jumper fabric at my belly.

He asked me if I was happy. I said I’ve never been this happy.

I was pregnant. Days later when my mind learned to live with the thought that there was a part of Jamie inside me, a new spark of life he and I created, I started realising. How could I not notice it? During the last few weeks, I’ve been so terribly tired. I dismissed it, thinking it’s all because of the stress. Our hunting for a flat, moving, trying to settle in. Adso running away and my busyness at work. I did not pay attention when captured under Jamie’s body I mewled a sound of protest. His hand froze hovering over my breasts that became too sensitive. It’s just a precursor of my upcoming period I thought. Jamie laughed at me when curled up together on the sofa, I suddenly broke down crying after seeing a commercial on TV with little puppies in it. I never gave too much attention to dizziness that was coming back to me each morning for the last two weeks. Feeling awful nausea creeping in, I cursed at the contraceptives and bent over the white toilet surface. Telling myself I had to change them to different ones because these were definitely messing up with my hormones. So when my uterus decided to riot I was sure this pink pillbox was the reason for my late courses. I just could not be pregnant.

The morning we came back from the hospital I closed myself in the bathroom, tearing off the packaging from a home pregnancy test I’ve kept just in case. I had to be sure. I cried and sat on the bathroom floor when ClearBlue stick confirmed those eight letters that formed Pregnant. When Jamie knocked softly on the door I was a hot mess. He kneeled down, reaching for my hand where a promise of a future froze between my fingers. “Don’t” I protested, as he gently kissed the back of my hand. “My hands are all in pee.” I sniffed, but he only laughed, saying he didn’t care. “Sassenach, I will change diapers for our bairn, I dinna care about yer pee.” Jamie pulled me to his chest, keeping me so impossibly close, I thought I’d drown in him. Nose buried into his woolly sweater tightening my grip on him, I whispered. “We’re going to have a baby.”

“Aye,” He nodded, brushing away a loose curl on my cheek. There was something in his eyes, the very colour of them changed, as he looked down at me. “I’ve already thought of names for the wee one.” Jamie fished his phone from the pocket, shining the screen on me. “Scottish baby names” stood there and I dissolved into uncontrollable sobbing. He laughed softly, cradling my face in his hands, thumb smoothing the tears away. I had to laugh myself when my nose conjured up a snotty bubble and I saw a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Red-faced, racoon-mascara circles under the swollen, bloodshot eyes. “Oh, Claire, ye do break my heart with loving ye” He whispered kissing my mouth.

I stood in the locker room, topless, in my scrub pants, fidgeting the strap of my bra. Turning sideways the mirror reflected my bare, still flat, seven weeks stomach. The door swung open, Geillis storming in. Smiling from ear to ear she almost knocked the breath out of me, as her arms wrapped around my neck. “Oh, how much I wished ye’d never cried because of that arsehole Frank! I told ye it’s him!” She kissed me on the cheek patting my front. “Jamie lad did not waste time. I’m so happy for ye, ghràdhach aon. For both of ye.” Then she demanded that I have to make her godmother or our friendship will be at stake. From then on Geillis decided that she was my patron and no day has passed by without her endless care for me. I was thankful but most of the times rather annoyed at her hovering as a bee over me. My friend decided it’s her duty to make sure I had enough fresh air so every coffee break we spent outside. My lunch was under her steadfast gaze. I wasn’t allowed to eat my beloved beef burgers anymore and was replaced with green smoothies. “Christ, it’s full of vitamins and such, yer burger is full of fat.” I also was relieved of coffee but kindly handed herbal teas as a replacement.

But what Geillis didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Little did she know that at two in the morning Jamie, voice still groggy with sleep, pulls his jeans on as I wake him up. He cursed stubbing his toe in the darkness, promising to bring me a Big Mac. He laughed at me while I sniffed into my phone calling to tell him of my latest craving for a Cinnabon.

Jamie had his ways of making sure that I and "our wee bairn" stayed healthy and safe. On Sunday as I plodded down the hallway to start usual weekly tidying up, he had snatched a mop and solution for the floors from my hands. “Ye dinna ken it’s bad for ye to breath all these chemicals?” He declared, nudging me towards the couch. I said that I’m pregnant, not disabled but Jamie shot me a look that I obediently laid on the couch in the company of Adso.

One night I thought my heart would burst with tenderness for this man. Putting my book aside I turned to Jamie, elbow supporting my head. He scrolled through something on his phone, and I noticed that sexy crease between his eyebrows making my stomach turn into a warm pool. I scooted closer to him, hand running up and down his bare torso. He hummed “hhmmm” as my lips planted a kiss over his ribcage. When my hand suggestively ran along the waistband of his jogging pants he did not show the usual interest. I sat up, leg-crossed in front of him, securing my curls into a top knot.

“Is there something more fascinating than this?” I smiled cheekily at him, pulling one strap of my nightgown down the shoulder. He gave me a quick glance, eyes glued back to his iPhone.

“Ye ken that our bairn is the size of green olive,” He brought up his hand, folding his fingers to show me. “About one inch long”.

“What?” I lifted my brow as I leaned to grab his phone. My heart was on the edge of breaking into a million pieces with love for Jamie. It was an app on his phone, with information week by week about the baby. “Where did you get it from?” My voice shook just a bit as I fiercely fought an upcoming wave of pregnancy-hormonal tears. His hand reached my stomach, he drew me closer, giving it a soft kiss. “Weel, I googled it.” I whispered that I loved him covering his body with mine.

From that point on it became a nighttime tradition when Jamie would read to me every week the size of our baby, what developments had happened over time. As we were sitting one evening in front of the TV, watching the British Bake Off, I almost dozed off. Jamie’s hands were busy working out all the knots in my aching feet when he suggested something that made me awake instantly.

“I guess I should get rid off that engine ye hate so much, Claire.” I raised my eyebrows at him in curiosity. “What so suddenly changed your mind?” I asked scratching Adso who seemed to be fascinated by my condition. My cat found my stomach the perfect place for his naps and never left my side as soon as I entered our home. I was thinking it’s very cute unless he was just jealous of the new addition to the family. My body turned into melted wax when Jamie’s thumb pushed on that nagging spot on my foot. “I thought we should think about that storage room, my Da could help with a makeover. For the wee one,” Jamie explained, gently patting my ankle. I thought there wasn’t anything else my pregnant hormonal self would cry about but there I was again. Snotty and clinging to Jamie, saying that he’s a bloody bastard who made me turn into a hysterical creature.

Jamie’s reminder of uni days was taken away to Broch Mordha. Day by day our storage room turned into something that started resemble a nursery. Watching Jamie and Brian paint the little bedroom gave my heart fluttering sensation as I leaned against the doorframe. I haven’t admitted to Jamie yet that him being a dad made my toes curl and my heart race a marathon. I still could not believe it was happening with me. My life seemed to be unreal and the fact that I was going to be a mother was something out of this universe.

Jamie tucked a curl behind my ear, as I embraced my dear friend in the shape of the toilet almost every morning. I was hitting the milestone of twelve weeks and felt like bloated, nauseated, sensitive all over penguin. I huffed and puffed with my high waisted jeans that did not want to close over the growing baby bump. Finally, sweaty and red-cheeked, I sat on the edge of the bed, jeans dangling around my knees. When Jamie found me I felt defeated by rough denim fabric, laying on the bed like a fat sea cat. Pulling the jeans down my legs and fishing out my black leggings from the depth of the wardrobe, he kneeled down, taking one of my feet helping me to dress. I said that I am not a child and don’t need to be dressed. Jamie just ignored my hateful remark and suggested that we buy some maternity clothes for me. As he lent me the laptop “There, Sassenach, order what ye like,” I felt as an awful, hateful human being. His cheek was warm and smoothly shaved under my palm. “I’m sorry. I’m being horrid to you.” I whispered kissing the corner of his mouth. He smiled reassuring me it’s okay.

Though I looked rather as if I gained some weight around the middle rather than pregnant, Jamie had a habit of talking to my stomach each night. One of those I got particularly teary-eyed when he laid his head over my bare skin, my fingers running through the silk of his curls. All day I fought with waves of nausea mixed with heartburn that tried to take over my body. Jamie’s thumb placed tender caresses over the swell of my belly. “Ye should let yer mum rest, a leannan.” He whispered softly as his lips brushed at my skin. “Yer such a gift, m'eudail.” When that first tear broke free my hands drew him closer. Fingers smoothing his marble-carved back, he swallowed my quiet confession with his lips. “I need you, Jamie.”

His mouth sealed over the peak of my breast, as my hand traveled down his navel. He stopped then suddenly, looking up at me. “Claire, are ye sure? I…” The tips of his ears turned scarlet red while he tried to find the right words. “I wouldna wish for the bairn to be bounced around.” I laughed then. With that hearty laugh that was only for Jamie. Leaning to kiss his upper lip, I smiled, covering his hand with mine that laid on my stomach. “She won’t notice, I promise.”

Our lovemaking took a totally different meaning since the day Jamie and I learned there is a new life our love created. Jamie’s gentle awareness of “little olive” inside my womb as his body moved atop of mine, the way that small swell of my belly was sheltered between us.

One morning as I went through the post and bills while Jamie poured hot water into the two cups of Earl Grey I hesitated but asked him anyway. The last couple of days he’s been unusually quiet. He sat down, facing me on the other side of the table, fingers circling the cup rim. After long minutes of silence, he finally confessed.

“What if I am a bad father?”

Voice quivered with nervousness and worry Jamie said that if he can’t manage a cat (the time Adso ran away) how could he even manage a brand new human being? I stood up, circling him from behind. Nose buried in his soft curls, I pressed a kiss to his hair. “You’ll be the best dad in the world. Do you know how I know it?” He shook his head as my hips took residency on his lap. “It’s how much you love your nieces and nephews. The way you worry about Jenny and Ian. Your commitment to calling Brian every day, making sure you two talk enough.” My hands wrapped around his neck. “It’s the way you take care of me, Jamie. Of us.” His palm splayed atop my stomach and then he smiled.

It was true. Jamie has taken such good care of me like no one before. He decided it was his mission to learn everything about our pregnancy and he lived with his Iphone glued to his hand. Jamie googled how to get rid of nausea and was brewing a potion like a magician every evening. It was ginger tea with a tinge of lemon. Simple enough but it always calmed the wave of nausea that visited me frequently. Jamie made sure I stayed hydrated, downloading an app on my phone to remind me about my water intake. He never protested (only internally) when I had a particular night time craving for strawberries or Nandos. Even when I was a fierce, angry future mum tired from endless night visits to the bathroom, morning vomiting and all-time fatigue, Jamie never complained. He managed to soothe me every time his arms wrapped around me. “Yer just tired, Claire.” His forehead leaned against mine. “Ye may be angry and frustrated, ye may even be furious with me for no reason.” He laughed softly. “But yer carrying my child and for that alone I owe ye my life.”

After a doctor's appointment when we heard the heartbeat of our baby for the first time it suddenly felt so real. Walking hand in hand along the busy Edinburgh streets I watched Jamie’s face. It was as someone spilled a bucket of happiness infused paint all over him. He grinned like a Chesire cat and kept debating with me over the baby names. “Ye canna name a lass Mary or… Or Kate!” I rolled my eyes at him as Jamie opened a door for me. “Oh, neither do you get to call the baby Morag! Over my dead body, James Fraser.” I hissed, stepping into a store with handmade baby furniture. He mumbled something about great Scottish Gaelic names but I only waved my hand at him, noticing gorgeous white baby crib.

“Dinna listen to him,” Jenny smiled, handing me a pastel pink onesie. “Men rarely understand anything when it comes to names. Ian would gladly call all our bairns with the names from Lord of the Rings.”  I laughed setting the presents she brought next to the baby crib that now was a perfect fit inside the nursery. It was the only thing we’d bought so far, besides Jenny’s kind clothing gifts. We still had a lot of time for purchasing baby things. Jamie’s sister also shoved prenatal vitamins in my hands, the extras she had from her last pregnancy. Adso decided it is his toy. For the last week my cat slept only in a crib with my vitamins securely between his furry paws.

I hummed appreciative “mmm” as Jamie’s warm palm soothed my aching lower back. “Are ye sure ye’ll be alright, Sassenach?” Jamie ran his thumb on the bridge of my nose. “I’ll be just fine.” Cupping the back of his neck, I leaned in t0 kiss the reddish stubble on his jaw. “If I need you, I’ll call.” He nodded but worry swam at the bottom of azure ocean as he looked down. “I need ye and the bairn to be safe and healthy.” Turning my back to spoon him, his hand laid on my waist, face pressed at my nape I smiled into the pillow. “We are.”

Next day Jamie headed off to Glasgow to open up a new brewery with his uncles while I myself awaited three surgeries at work. At the end of a carotid endarterectomy I felt an awful backache but had no chance to sit down for longer than five minutes in between starting with the other patient. Thinking that I probably should reschedule my working time another hour has passed. I wanted to call Jamie on my lunch break but as my feet walked towards the cafeteria suddenly my body folded in two. I groaned, hand braced on the wall. Claws-digging, cramping pain shot in my lower belly. Feeling faint I noticed Geillis’s ginger head as she grabbed me by the arms. “Claire, what on earth is happening?” Her eyes traveled down my body, mouth frozen with whatever she wanted to say. There was a bloody spot on my scrub pants, growing like spilled wine glass.

It's funny the things you remember - like spilled coffee making a stain on my coat, chilly November morning and memory of hot whisper sending goosebumps down my skin, "I love you" said in an agony and fear of losing him, losing us. Or the vase that Jamie had bought me and it found its place on the top shelf in my bedroom.

“Geil, what… what is happening? ” My voice shook. So small and fragile, not my own.

I knew well enough what was going on. But my foolish, tender heart hoped that it's not true. That Geillis will smile and tell me it’s nothing, nothing serious. I saw her green eyes swell with tears as my own closed. I’ve never seen her cry before.

* * *

“Ye bloody Scottish bastard! Pick up, Jamie.” Geillis’s voice rolled as thunder inside hospital walls but cold, robotic one kept repeating “The number your dial is out of range. Please, try again.”

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

This chapter is a turning point for Claire and Jamie, an invisible equator in their relationship. And symbolically it's 10th part of this story. It took an effort to get this exactly right, to build that emotional bridge that'll help us understand their feelings. I hope I managed to capture all the feelings both of them. But please, please have faith in them.

Anne @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur​, thank you for holding my hand along the way  💜

P.S. Sorry for breaking your wee hearts in previous and this chapter, my dear kind-hearted readers. Bear with me ;) ;)

X

A/N:

mo charaid - my friend in Scottish Gaelic

Read on AO3

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

Chapter IV: Lovestruck. Part I

Chapter V: Lovestruck. Part II

Chapter VI: Flecks of Sun

Chapter VII: Mince pies & baubles

Chapter VIII: Home

Chapter IX: Once upon a dream

                                      Chapter X: Of loss and faith

For what felt like centuries-long minutes, Jamie stood with his palm on the door. His head bowed, breathing deeply, trying to find some strength from the inanimate wood surface for he had none. The only thing that drove him from Glasgow to Edinburgh in thirty minutes was guilt. And fear. He grasped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles blanched white. His gut wrenched as Geillis's voice replayed the manifesto in his head.

His wee Sassenach almost bled to death. His bonny and fierce lass was cut open and he wasna there for her.

He hadn’t cried when Geillis told him. His breath hitched with a sob learning that their child was gone. Burning, expanding heat inside his chest almost cracked it open, threatening to release his bloody insides out. His hands trembled just a bit when he’d found enough courage to ask about Claire.  

“Is she alive?”

His own mother had died because of complications during labour. Jenny’s second pregnancy was a difficult one after which Ian was never the same. Jamie’s fear was rational but so overtaking that he exhaled with a wheezing sound against his throat salty with unshed tears. She was alive and he must fight for her.

Wiping damp hands over the rough denim fabric of his jeans, he gently pushed the door open. A veil of moisture burned in his eyes as Jamie crossed a dark, shadowy room stopping next to the bed. His instinct to shield her, to protect made him almost too weak. Because he failed. He failed her when she most needed him. Jamie sat down in the chair in front of Claire’s motionless body.

Christ, she looked so small and ever so fragile. She was still, covered in a thin white hospital sheet that matched her skin colour. He swallowed against dry tears that burned his throat. Jamie could not make himself look down a small bump of her stomach. It was all that was left showing where their child was once sheltered and nurtured by her body. So he kept his eyes on Claire’s face. She looked so peaceful, drifting to a faraway land where Jamie did not know the route. He wanted to gather Claire close, keep her within himself, let her crawl inside his body and remain there. Safe and guarded. Not hurt.

A Dhia, he would have given everything to be able to take her pain away.

Dr Hildegarde told him it was a placental abruption. Something that could not have been stopped so they had to perform C-section. Their baby was stillborn, one of the complications occurring in fifteen percent of cases. He could feel an aching hole inside his chest and a tight set of his jaw against oncoming wave of tears as Dr Hildegarde’s thin fingers squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. Geillis, with puffy and bloodshot eyes, told him Claire has lost a large amount of blood and received a transfusion.

Jamie kept staring at Claire’s asleep face. Gritting his teeth, he caught a thought at the back of his mind that made his blood freeze. Now that she slept, he hoped she was not in pain. She was but Jamie did not know that. Claire was given pain medication by a nurse and it helped her to drift back to soothing darkness. She did not have to face a reality where she had lost her baby. Claire’s face was smooth, only a slight furrow between her eyebrows disturbed the peacefulness. A part of Jamie wished she slept forever like this. Not hurt, without need to live with the ache and heartbreak of losing their child. He shook his head violently as if to rid himself of the awful thought that was creeping into his fevered mind. The selfish little, fragile part of himself whispered that she’ll hate him. When Claire wakes she will realise what a failure he is and she won’t want him anymore. He feared it and it made him feel sick to his stomach

Jamie hesitated, afraid that Claire could flinch away from his touch as he reached his hand to her. Oh, how much he wanted to comfort her. How he wished he could reverse time and not put his Sassenach to such misery because of himself.

He could bear just about anything but not her pain.

Tips of his fingers gently curved over her soft cheek. She did not move, only eyebrows knitted a deeper crease between them. Jamie bit his lip blood bursting, fighting against the tears rushing as the tide, copper tasting faintly in his mouth.

Even now partly covered in the night shadows, she was so, so beautiful. There was an unearthliness about her pale, pale skin like she would soon belong to the angels. Jamie could almost imagine how their wee lassie would have looked alike with her mother. He sucked in the sterile scented air and exhaled in a shallow breath. The sounds of his heart shattering filled each corner of the room.

Thumb smoothing the transparent shell of her ears Jamie jerked at the sudden sound filling the space. It was a whimper, faint and delicate as early snow but so desperate it made him cold to the marrow of his bones.

“Sassenach,” He whispered, voice hoarse with the effort. Jamie had no idea what he could say to her to make it better. There was nothing. Nothing he could do or say to make it hurt less. She leaned into his palm, face painted with visible distress and Jamie thought he would lose it.

So he did the best he could. Fingers gently curling into her hair, he whispered to her in ancient Gàidhlig as he always did when Claire had hard times. It seemed to soothe her and he had hoped it would bring the same relief to his Sorcha now.

She stilled for a while before her eyes fluttered open. They told him she had awakened before after coming out of surgery when the last lingering sensations of drugs faded away. She asked for him Geillis said. Claire needed him there, and he wasn’t.

She blinked, eyes still dull and heavy-lidded. Her lungs burned as she inhaled deeply as if a needle had punctured the skin. Her mouth was tacky. Feeling a drowsy shadowiness swim behind her dry eyelids Claire stared through Jamie. Slowly coming out from submerging oblivion all she could feel was pain. It started under her skin laying its sharp claws along the edges of her limbs, dipping inside red tissue. It ran in the bloodstream igniting each fibre like fierce lightning bolt traveling from nerve to nerve. The pain was inside burnt deep behind her eyelids, coating her throat, shredding the lungs. Claire’s body hung on the brink of giving in and falling back into the peaceful darkness. It took all the strength she had left inside to concentrate and not step back into the blackness. Her vision blurred, eyes straining with the effort. She felt dizzy. When she realised that her quiet sanctuary was disturbed by an intruder, her eyes finally focused.

Jamie’s lips quirked into a ghost of a smile. “Mo cridhe…” His warm palm cupped her cheek and she shrugged away. Pulling a sheet up to her chin she stared at Jamie as if he was a stranger.

For a long time, there was a silence and neither of them moved.

She felt so lonesome. She was all alone. Abandoned. She was so so so lonely in all of this.

Even in midnight darkness she could see the barely checked tears in Jamie’s eyes. It felt like a millennia that he was frozen. Not able to move or say anything. Jamie looked utterly broken.

Destroyed.

But she did not feel a thing about it.

Swallowing a choking lump in his throat Jamie opened his mouth. He only gasped for air as he groped for words, not able to say anything. Eyes blown wide, hands shaking by his sides, Jamie just looked back at Claire who jerked away again when he wanted to lean down to touch her.

“Don’t touch me” Claire’s voice echoed in the hollowness of her chest.

“I am so verra sorry, Sassenach” His voice was no more than a weak, strangled rasp.

She turned away as the tears spilled down his cheeks, making their way down his neck. She still could not bear seeing him cry.

Her hands slowly reached now a barren expanse of her abdomen. Covered with a thin hospital sheet her own body felt foreign and unfamiliar. Claire was as the goddess Niobe whose children were slain and unburied. She was turned to stone and brooded endlessly over the sorrows sent by Gods. Only this time Claire was the one to blame, her own traitorous body. She laid there, numb and cold as the stone herself.

Claire’s voice cracked, forced out her dry throat. “Go home, Jamie”

“No,” It sounded like a groan. Full of anger, frustration, heartbreak.

When her eyes found Jamie’s, Claire’s words were nothing but a broken whisper.

“I have lost a lifetime with my child before even be able to experience it.”

 °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

It was early predawn with the sun trying to breakthrough stubborn clouds floating over Scotland.

Jamie startled, awakened to the sound of shoes gliding over the linoleum. Geillis gently touched his shoulder, eyes scanning  still asleep Claire.

“Ye should go home, mo charaid,” His fellow Scotswoman circled the bed, glancing at vital signs monitor. “Yer no good like that for Claire, go to sleep, have a bite.”

Standing up Jamie felt needles prickle his numb legs. Muscles cramped from a broken sleep on that tiny chair. Shaking off the remnants of his restless night he turned to Geillis, zipping the jacket up.

“Promise me, ye stay with her and willna leave for a moment?” Jamie nervously ran a hand through his hair, before tapping it on his thigh. “I’m going to use the bathroom and grab something from the car.”

Geillis nodded, smiling faintly. “I willna. But ye promise ye will eat a proper lunch and get some sleep tonight. Ye have to be strong for Claire. She will need ye.”

Jamie swallowed, shaking his head in agreement. The only thing that kept him from falling apart was Claire’s need for him, his strength that he could lend her. Even though she might reject him again, that’s the least he could do for his wee Sassenach.

He was gone no longer than twenty minutes. Jamie made a quick visit to the bathroom, splashed cold water over his face, grabbed an awful resemblance of a coffee from a vending machine. He changed his sweaty t-shirt in the car for a freshly washed gym one, dug out Claire’s favourite Jaffa cakes from the glovebox and was on his way back.

When he stepped inside the ICU room Claire was awake. And it made him somewhat jealous and guilty again that he did not catch the moment when she woke. He froze and just stood like an idiot in the doorway. Claire did not even look up, kept staring at her folded hands on her knees. Mary Hawkins hovered over her changing the bag of IV fluids, smiling shyly as she reminded Claire to eat her breakfast. She only nodded absently but did not touch the tray with tea, porridge, bread rolls and butter with raspberry jam. Claire always thought it was rather funny that NHS offered continental breakfast at hospitals. The last thing she wanted to do was eat now. Claire would gladly remain in a state of unconscious drowsiness and a dead sleep for the rest of her life.

As they were left alone Jamie moved slowly, setting aside the cakes on the bedside stand. He thought he’d seen a faint smile on Claire’s lips but wasn’t sure he did not imagine it.

“Ye mind?” Jamie exhaled, trying to keep his voice steady. Claire scooted over slightly allowing him a bit of space on the narrow bed. Jamie lowered himself carefully to sit, too aware of her fragile state. He was afraid he could break her if he is not cautious enough.

They stayed quiet for a while, both lost in the loud sounds coming from the hospital hall.

“How do ye feel?” He asked at last, eyes searching hers but she stubbornly looked away.

Jamie prayed that she would answer him, that she wouldn’t pull back. His heart was aching hoping that she would grant him the least a bit of mercy and just share her burden with him. Christ, it was his child too.

Claire shivered at the sound of Jamie’s voice. So familiar, so concerned, so him. Somewhere very deep deep inside her there was a space that was screaming for him, that needed him desperately. The ache of it was tearing her apart but it was buried under a cloak of overtaking grief. She could not get out from its cold, gripping claws. The sight of Jamie was breaking her heart, ripping it out but she kept thinking she was alone when it all happened. How scared she was.

Claire wanted to reach out to him and reassure him she’s not angry. But the turmoil was too great. There was a mix of feelings she did not understand. She was scared, angry, she felt guilty and weak. But mostly she was hurt. There was a great deal of pain and Claire had no idea how to deal with it.

She absently smoothed the crumpled fabric of white sheet over her belly.

“Empty,” Her voice cracked. “I feel empty.”

The breath choked out of him and Jamie leaned in to her wanting to cradle her close. But he stopped midway unsure and taken aback by the feeling that he had to think if he can touch her.

His hand froze in the air just inches away from soft curve of her cheek. A lonely tear rolled down Claire’s face and she whimpered against her will. Biting down her lip hard enough so it hurts, so maybe, just maybe it will distract her from the real tragedy her own life turned into. She could not bear to see that look on Jamie’s face. When his thumb gently wiped away a salty drop, the burning soreness inside her chest threatened to burst out burying them both with lava-like sorrow. Her fingers closed around Jamie’s warm palm withdrawing it from her face.

But he kept trying. The haunting feeling of losing her kept him going. He would not lose her.

“Ye should eat yer breakfast, mo ghraidh,” Jamie offered quietly “ Ye need it to keep up yer strength.”

“I failed, Jamie.” Claire’s voice was distant as she drew patterns over the white sheet. “I failed our daughter. I failed us.”

He wanted to say something, deny those ridiculous words but she shook her head dismissing him.

“You should leave, go home, there is no use for you to sit here, Jamie.”

He was losing her. He was losing it all.

Pressing a dry kiss to her forehead Jamie just sat back. If that chair would be the place he has to spend the rest of his days on to be near Claire, he would do it.

Later in the day Claire just laid, resting as much as possible. She spent her time pretending to watch TV, switching the channels just for the sake of keeping her hands busy. With no child to lay in her arms, she felt an exceptional need to do something, anything that would fill that hole. Jamie has been with her most of the time, only occasionally taking trips to the bathroom or to stretch the muscles in his legs, pacing endless circles in the hallway. They did not talk much, only business-like exchange of phrase.

Though Claire needed to remain calm, resting in order to heal quickly, they needed her to get up for walks. Nurse Olivia explained to Claire she needed to become progressively mobile in order to prevent constipation and blood clots. Jamie volunteered but Claire said she wanted Geilis with her. It was a great relief for Claire going on those painful, even though gentle walks with her best friend. It was a change from Jamie’s utterly destroyed face and she felt as she could breathe a little bit easier without seeing him looking so guilty, looking so sad. Geillis did not push, did not start the conversations Claire did not want to hold. She just talked, as usual, made filthy jokes, shared her memories from last Tinder date and filled her in all recent gossip at the hospital. Claire was grateful for that.

Later, after Jamie convinced her to take a bite of a dinner she fell into a restless sleep. Geillis on the other hand finally managed to drag Jamie out of the hospital room and laughed at him softly when he groaned at the bright hall light.

“Yer like a bloody mole.” She pushed him towards the cafeteria paying zero attention at his protests. “Ye have to eat, Claire willna thank me if I let ye starve yerself.”

Geillis only smirked when Jamie demolished two full meals with a clear look on her face “I told ye”. She was rumbling about everything and anything but Jamie barely listened. After some time, wiping the grease from his lips, Geillis moved a plate aside, reaching for Jamie’s hand.

“Dinna worry, she’ll come around,” the ginger-haired woman smiled. “She needs time, time to heal and accept.”

He nodded.

“And so do ye.”

 °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Claire dreamt. She was weightless. Free and peaceful, floating in serene darkness. There was no pain, no fear, no loss. Her body was a feather, not her own, inside the space of the parallel universe. She did not know her name or who she was. Everything was foreign and new. It was dark and soothingly warm. There was no existence of her, whoever she has been before. She felt at peace wrapped in the cocoon of warmth surrounding her. She was nobody, motionless and still. Perfect in its hollowness. There was no time nor space but quiet buzzing filling Claire’s senses. She just was. Swimming in the endless distant land of nothing. She did not know how long she has been there, in the space of bottomless chasm. But then there was something. Growing inside her solar plexus, spreading its roots in her bloodstream. Running under the surface of Claire’s transparent skin. Trying to break out, the pressure of it clawing at her heart. Leaving a flow of blood soaking trail. A name.

Jamie.

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Aaaaaand, I'm back! I know it's been bloody ages since the last update but I needed a break. I also had been busy with other ficlets so OIWAE was put on pause. But the story is back and I do hope you like this instalment. I really, really like this chapter.

I am absolutely horrible at answering the comments (which I'll fix, promise) but I do see each one of them! I LOVE reading what your thoughts are, whether you liked some moment or a particular turn of phrase, I appreciate it all. No matter if it's one word, emoji, or a big analysing comment. Thank you lovies for staying here with me. <3

Anne, you’re my gem  💜 @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur​

Read on AO3

     Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

Chapter IV: Lovestruck. Part I

Chapter V: Lovestruck. Part II

Chapter VI: Flecks of Sun

Chapter VII: Mince pies & baubles

                                           Chapter VIII: Home

Blood pounded in Claire’s ears muffling the music and the howling wind outside. Jamie’s face blurred as the tears gathered at the brink of her lower lashes. She inhaled deeply, blinking furiously to get rid of the swell of moisture in her eyes. Closing them Claire could feel Jamie moving towards her, gently touching her arm, voice concerned.

“Claire, was it too early? Did I-”

He could not finish his sentence because she dissolved into ugly crying. Clinging to him, gasping for air and in general being an awful mess.

“Shh, mo graidh. Shh. Tis alright.” His hands wrapped around Claire in a familiar way, thumb circling the tender skin at her nape softly.

“I.. I’m going to ruin your shirt.” Sniffing, voice muffled by his aforementioned shirt Claire leaned back to look at the mess she created. Her running nose and damp cheeks imprinted a mascara-black wet blot on green fabric. She could hear Jamie chuckle as he picked her up and sat down with Claire curled on his lap.

“I dinna care one bit about the shirt, lass.” Lips gently pressed a kiss to her forehead. Claire sighed though still gasping for air. The comfort of Jamie’s warmth made her body become limp.

“I’m not crying because I am sad,” Claire whispered, hand cupping the back of his head. “I... I’m crying because I’m happy, Jamie. Happy to live with you.”

Dropping a kiss on the bridge of her nose, he smiled.

“Aye. Me too, my Sassenach.”

* * *

It was the beginning of what seemed like an endless hunt for what would become a perfect flat for us. We spent about three weeks chasing an ideal place, checked at least ten flats scattered all over Edinburgh but none of them was quite what we were looking for (not far away from my work; with a park nearby to allow Jamie to go on his morning jogs. And it needed to have a large living room and be pet-friendly.)

Jamie (bare-chested, skin still flushed from the shower) was performing his magic by preparing the scrambled eggs I loved so much while I sat on the windowsill, feet in fuzzy socks propped up the wall. As I scrolled through rental ads on Jamie’s iPad I felt the pressure of upcoming headache from all this searching. And suddenly, there it was. The place that we were looking for.

A stone-built ground floor house had a spacious kitchen and a huge living room adorned with an old fireplace. The ceilings were so high I thought there is no end to them. “Canna wait to hear yer voice inside these walls” Jamie smirked at me as we followed behind the agent chirping away about how great this flat is. “Whatever do you mean?” I quirked my brow at him. He leaned closer, whispering into my ear, his warm breath tickling the little hairs on my nape. “Weel, those sounds ye make when I-” Giggling, my elbow pressed into his ribs, stopping him before any dangerous and inappropriate (for the agent) revelations could occur.

Grand windows allowed the sun to slip into every little corner of the flat and made it breathe with light. There were two bedrooms with hardboard wooden floors and a small study fully equipped with bookshelves. French doors in the kitchen opened to a garden with a southern exposure was the last deciding straw for me. It had everything we needed. Adso would be welcome to live here, it was a fifteen minute drive from my work and there was a park just across the street. Although it was rather pricey, Jamie ignored my hissing remark “Almost four grand quid? Fucking insane,” and said that we should sign the rental agreement. I kissed him senseless allowing the feeling that this is us now, our own place fill me up.

The rental price had changed our plans a little bit. Forcing us to spend a couple of days moving small furniture and other possessions Jamie and I owned to our new accommodation by ourselves. At the end of it all, sweaty and tired, we sat on the boxes in the empty living room, watching the snowfall outside the huge windows.

“Are ye happy, Sassenach?” Jamie gently pulled me by the wrist to his side. My hands cradled his face as I stood up and found myself a prisoner between his thighs.

“Of course I am, James Fraser,” thumb caressing the apple of his cheeks I glanced around. “Only I have no idea how we are going to organize this mess.” It feels like between the two of us there are millions of boxes and bags, packages. I’ve brought the plants I owned (the only three I managed not to kill), a box full of uncle’s Lamb belongings, an enormous contemporary art painting Geillis got me for my 30th birthday two years ago. Adso had his belongings too, a scratching post, litter tray and his own little blanket. Adso himself was being babysat by Geillis while I and Jamie tried to sort out our moving. Jamie was currently sitting on a stash of my medical books destined for the study.

“We’ll manage, a nighean ” His hands patted my hips, bringing me closer. Planting a soft kiss on the washed fabric over my sternum, Jamie looked up. “We canna do more than our best.”

My stomach had the quite opposite opinion of doing our best and rumbled loudly.

“God, I’m starving” yawning I reached for the cellphone.

Later, full and warm with chicken ramen, curry with prawns and wok-fried greens we had just enough strength in us to unpack most of the carton boxes that said “Kitchen”. In that hour and a half, we managed to laugh, listen to Jamie’s Dire Straits playlist on his phone and argue over ridiculous things. Putting away a bitty family of my mugs and cups Jamie dropped my favourite mug Frank bought me a very long time ago and I never could get rid of it. It was massive and bright yellow, with Friends on it. It was my all-time binge-love TV show. It shattered in yellow pieces atop the counter and floor. I didn't mean to snap. But we both were bone-weary from a long day of moving back and forth, of a week packing before, exhausted from all the searching catching up with us. Suddenly I felt my chin quiver at the sight of my beloved, now broken mug.

“I’m sorry, Sassenach.” Jamie bit his lip, trying to reach me with his hand over the island counter but I shrugged away.

“Why are you so bloody clumsy, ” I mumbled, kneeling to pick up broken ceramic bits. Jamie rubbed his face, clearly wanting to say something, but instead he bent to help.

Annoyed just by him breathing next to me at that moment I dropped collected pieces straight into the bin. When he tried to sweep the floor from the dusty mug remains I snapped.

“Oh, please, just move away, or you’re going to break something else.”

I regretted the words right after I’ve said them but blood was already pounding in my ears and there was no way back.

“I said I’m sorry,” Jamie muttered, looking visibly irritated himself now. “It’s just a mug, I’ll buy ye a new one.”

The tension crackled with its force.

“I don’t want another bloody mug! ” I barked at him trying to busy myself opening a new box. “Frank gave it to me. It was my favourite one.”

Time seemed to stop for a second as Jamie slowly licked his lips looking me straight in the eyes.

“Frank?”

Unable to hold his gaze anymore I turned my back to him staring out of the window.

“Don’t you start playing a jealous boyfriend on me,” I grunted, telling myself to calm down. You know he doesn’t mean it bad.

He grumbled and I could hear him retreating to the living room.

“Why are ye bitching about it, Claire?” He hissed and I thought I could feel his words crawl inside me like a poisonous snake.

“What?” I followed him to the room (aka the mess) full of boxes.

“Nothing.”

“Repeat what you just said,” I demanded.

He didn’t. Instead, we spent the next hour in different rooms unpacking. Or pretending to. I wasn't able to do a proper job and stopped on one box. As the sweat cooled off on my skin and the urge to cry faded away I plodded down the hallway towards the bathroom. Passing the living room I caught a glimpse of Jamie placing my candles (that he hated) on top of the fireplace. The sight gave my heart a painful (and guilty) squeeze. Deciding that taking a shower, putting fresh PJs on and making us both a nice cup of tea would make both of us feel better.

I turned on the hot water. It was blissful and caused me to go limp. Engrossed as I was I did not hear Jamie come in. Shedding his clothes wordlessly, he stepped into the shower behind me. Cupping one breast, he dropped a kiss on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry I snapped, Claire. And I’m sorry for ye wee mug.”

Turning to face him, I nodded and kissed his jaw softly.

“I am sorry, Jamie. I was unreasonable and acted like a jerk.”

Our earlier argument was mended when his lips sealed on my neck, leaving me breathless. Moments later I cried out as I sagged against the tiled wall, him still inside me.

We slept on a makeshift bed that Jamie constructed from his mattress and two blankets just right in front of the fireplace. We laid, limbs entwined, among the boxes and bags, hands lazily tracing hills and valleys of each other bodies. “I love you,” I whispered before my mind drifted away into the realm of Morpheus.

* * *

Weeks later our flat finally started looking like somebody really lives here. With all our mismatched furniture, collection of books (mine mainly botany and poems, and Jamie’s classics and fantasy), with a horrid motorbike engine of Jamie’s (the one he used to drive in his uni days). No matter how much I asked him to throw that away he squealed like a girl protecting her virtue, not letting me come near that metal monstrosity. We agreed to put it away in the second bedroom which initially became a storage room.

One evening as I rocked my hips atop of him Jamie smirked that we marked each room in this flat. “ Aye, we did” I said mimicking him as I yanked my scrub top off over my head. Jamie made my body go limp against the shower tiles; he drew mewling sounds out of me on the kitchen table; my moans bounced off those high ceilings in the living room; his laboured breathing filled our bedroom and crawled up the walls. I gasped at the feeling of him in the storage room when Jamie announced his evident desire for a quickie; and he groaned “Oh, Claire” following his meandering Gaelic cursing as his hands tangled in my curls while I kneeled down unzipping his jeans.

Every time I showed up at work Geillis would never forget to ask me with a wink “So, my darling, how’s yer wee ginger? Loves ye well? I TOLD YE. Yer fucking glowing like a candle, Claire.”

Living with Jamie was a whole new experience. Now I had the luxury to wake up to his sleepy face and mussed curls every day. He would make the most miserable facial expression as I switch on the table lamp, grunting and burying himself under the layers of blanket. James Fraser was definitely not a morning person. “Five in the morning is torture,” he mumbled sleepily as I pressed a goodbye kiss to his forehead. “Normal people sleep at this time, ye ken. Go, save yer humans, Sassenach.” Squeezing my hand he turned to snooze immediately. But as soon as I got to work my phone would beep with his text message every morning “Have a great day, a nighean. Love ye.”

Any other morning I had a chance to stay in bed longer he’d wake me up with his hands, his mouth and his body molding into mine much like matching puzzle piece. I could not remember life without him anymore. Without his perfect morning coffee for me; without our banter or seriousness full talks in the darkness of the night, his hands on my hip, thumb carving the shape of my pelvic bone; without lazy evenings on the couch with Netflix and takeaway, my head resting on his chest, Jamie’s hand wrapped around my waist, and Adso curled on his lap.

Every day I had a pleasure of observing his fucking gorgeous post jog body. But like any other couple, we shared our bit of things that drove us crazy. Jamie had this annoying habit to turn the TV on so loud I had to scream like a banshee from the kitchen to get his attention. He also seemed to be very dedicated at the task of leaving the puddle of water on the bathroom floor after showering. I would not even want to mention his morning cologne spraying session that left a suffocating smell in the hallway. But, I myself was far from perfect. I had to endure him rolling his eyes at me and making disgusted faces as he plucked my hair out from the shower drain. Also, Jamie was patient with me and my attempts to cook and never protested eating ordered food. He would often volunteer for the task seeing me struggle with slimy spaghetti. But all those things did not matter as each night I fell asleep saying “I love you” lulled by his steady heartbeat beneath my cheek.

It had gotten to the point where I found that I could not live without him. So when Jamie had to leave to Inverness for three days I cursed at his business the whole day. Without him, I felt like the part of me was torn away and even Adso purring by my side couldn’t remedy the feeling. That’s why now I shamelessly found my place on Jamie’s lap, sparkling rosé in my hand. Our kitchen was filled with laughter, chats and instrumental indie playing from Google Home speaker Jenny and Ian gave us as a gift. The food was rich and tasty, the wine was pleasantly chill and Jamie’s left hand on my hip too much to handle. We haven’t made love for three days and I was positively flushed with desire. My skin was on fire - a mix of alcohol, laughter and Jamie.

“So, Claire, I do hope ye like yer wee rug?” Angus tried to wink at me sipping his red. I rolled my eyes and looked over my shoulder to have a look at his present again. It was a door rug in a bright green colour with a white cat on it that said: “Don’t forget to pet my pussy-cat”. He shoved it into my hands grinning. I was taken aback and did not know what to say. Meanwhile, Jamie broke into almost hysterical laughter, as I stood mouth agape. “Ye do have a cat, no?” Angus snorted and I only managed to nod as he welcomed himself inside our flat.

“Very thoughtful present,” I said, saluting my glass to Angus.

Untangling myself from Jamie’s embrace I excused myself to the bathroom. I washed my hands and caught sight of my face in the mirror. Cheeks pink coloured I splashed cold water on my face, feeling the drops run down my neck. Hair drawn back in a sweaty knot. When Jamie opens the door there is a trail of loud raucous laughter coming from the kitchen follows him.

“I’ll be right back,” I said thinking he came to get me. But the next moment the latch on the door clicked closed. His lips sought mine and he tasted of whisky leaving the burning sensation on my lips. His hands reached under my sweater, tracing the small of my back and then soft skin on my belly.

“I love them all, but I swear if they dinna leave soon, I’m going to have to kill all our guests” Jamie breathed out heavily as my hands fumbled with his belt, tugging at the stubborn zipper of the jeans. He cursed something in Gaelic that I did not understand when my fingers found his hot flesh.

“I might kill them myself,” I agreed, gently biting at his earlobe. My mouth fell open when Jamie snaked a hand between us, curling and tasting me with his fingers exactly right.  

“Christ, Claire” He muttered under his breath, fingers damp from his exploration. But our moment was rudely interrupted by Murtagh unceremoniously knocking on the door. “What are ye doing there, ye wee beasties? We need more booze.” Grunting in annoyance Jamie slid his belt back in and reached to pull my rolled sweater down. Kissing him chastely, we made it out back to our guests.

Over the next several days, we both were swirled into the routine business of life seeing each other mostly in the evenings. I’ve been extra busy at work and Jamie still had to finish important tasks at the brewery. Both of us exhausted, we barely managed to order takeaway, with me falling asleep on the couch as soon as the food was finished as a new episode of Peaky Blinders played. Jamie would carry me to the bedroom. He crept in beside me covering us both with a quilt. We would touch fingertips and sleep holding each other until the sun came uninvited, crawling inside the room. There was a silent agreement between us and the sex was at bay. There was a day when Jamie’s hands glided over my hips, finger drawing patterns at the panties waistband. Sleepily, I mumbled that I’m gross and disgusting and in need of a shower and shave. The other day I managed to pull off my sexiest face and slowly pull down my knickers I turned to find Jamie had fallen asleep soundly, mouth slightly agape. Chuckling, I picked my discarded underwear and slid under the blankets next to his starfish sprawled body.

Standing in the locker room at the hospital I’ve snapped a photo of myself. I turned myself provocatively displaying my ass to look as if I spent days in the gym (I did not of course) but nonetheless Jamie seemed more than fascinated by this body part of mine. Sending him the picture with capslock text “TONIGHT FRASER” I retreated back to work. All morning and lunch I spent thinking of the upcoming evening. Geillis took me out of my thoughts by grabbing my hand in the hallway.

“Claire, are ye alright?” Her eyes examined my face worriedly. “Ye look as pale as the wall behind ye.” I shook my head, reassuring her it’s nothing but a bit of nausea.

“I’m fine, Geil.” Running a palm over my clammy forehead I felt the imminent need to vomit. “It’s probably that sushi I had for lunch with Joe. I told him it did not look good.”

Giving me judgmental-mother look and shaking her head Geillis still made me sit down and close my eyes.

“Ye work too much, lass. Jamie needs to take ye on a holiday.”

The perspective of vacation sounded like an unreachable luxury at the moment but under Geillis’s superior look I agreed to go home earlier tonight. It started to rain hard outside when I crossed the threshold, dropping the bags of groceries down. Deciding that I might as well cook today instead of having takeaway again I strolled down the kitchen feeling slightly wamble and dizzy. After taking Pepto-Bismol and hoping it’ll help calm down my disgruntled stomach I opened a can of cat food, summoning Adso. But my cat was nowhere in sight. I’ve checked every nook and little corner, under the bed and couch. In the storage room as last time Jamie closed the cat in there by accident. My furry baby seemed to have vanished into thin air and I felt an oncoming wave of worry mixed with nausea. The open window in our bedroom hit me with a realisation. Eyes swelling with tears I dialled Jamie.

“Christ, Sassenach, I must have forgotten to close the damn window and the cheetie ran away.”

He promised to find him. I spent the evening googling stories of cats running away and cried some more thinking of my poor Adso alone in the cold rain, scared and hungry. I was sure I would not see my cat again. It was around midnight when the front door opened, Jamie’s footfalls startling me from my broken sleep on the couch. I rubbed my puffy eyelids as Jamie stepped inside the room.

His clothes were soaking wet, face painted with tiredness. But the smile on his lips was an encouraging sign. Unfolding his jacket Jamie stroked Adso’s grey ear who was nestled against his chest.

“Jamie! Oh, I can’t believe you did it.” I jumped up, taking Adso into my arms. He was wet and dirty, paws leaving marks on my skin. “Where did you find him?”

Taking off the jacket, Jamie leaned down to receive my kiss on his cheek.

"Here, you must be freezing cold." I reached for the bottle of whisky, pouring him a glass. When he gulped it down and his cheeks turn into baby-pink he told me.

“Ye’d never believe it. I spent hours just driving over the neighbourhood, mistaken at least three cats for him, but he was nowhere. And then I had an idea, it was crazy but possible.” Jamie ran his hands through his damp curls. “I drove to yer old place. And there he was, sitting in front of the door of yer old flat.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” Cradling Adso I reached for the towel I had just in case Jamie managed to bring him home. “Why did you run away, you silly?”

“I’m sorry, Claire. 'Twas my fault, I left the window open.” Jamie patted my thigh gently, looking guilty.

Lening in to kiss him, I traced his cheekbones with my fingers.

“You found him, Jamie. It’s all fine.”

* * *

Jamie woke to the sudden absence of Claire in the bed, her side of the blanket looking like a messy ball at the end of the bed. He could hear the water running in the bathroom. Glancing at the clock that showed three in the morning Jamie called out her name. When no response followed, he swung his legs down the bed, worry caused a cold feeling in his stomach as he walked to the bathroom.

“Sassenach, are ye al-” The words stuck in his throat seeing her small figure, curled on the floor next to the toilet. “Christ, Claire, what happened?” He kneeled down, cradling her head into his lap. His heart was pounding away in his ribcage, fear filling every fiber of his being. She looked pale as a paper sheet, sweaty curls stuck to her skin. Shaking her head weakly, she mumbled as quiet as he ever heard her “I’m okay.” But she was decidedly not okay. Her eyes closed then. Jamie picked her up, rushing to the car outside and mentally thanking all existing Gods that the hospital was just fifteen minutes away. Jamie was there in precisely seven minutes.

[maviemesregles]

“A Holiday There Is” Masterlist

A year of holiday for Claire and Jamie. Christmas, Hogmanay, birthdays, Easter, Halloween... You name it. 🥃

This series has started with one-shot I wrote for Lallybroch Library prompt exchange and unexpectedly turned into an idea of taking a wee peek into C&J relationship during each holiday celebration.

All the ficlets are posted in chronological order but not necessarily all of them will be connected to each other. Either way, you can choose how you want to read it - one by one or separately.

maviemesregles X

Part 1: ‘Twas two days before Christmas

Part 2: Boxing Day

[maviemesregles]

A Holiday There Is: Boxing day

I absolutely loved writing one-shot fic "Twas two days before Christmas" for Tumblr prompt and had no intentions whatsoever to continue this story. Even though I fell in love with this Claire and Jamie myself. But I've received many comments asking me to write more. There'll be more coming your way and can be found on AO3 in chronological order.

Thank you for reading, giving likes and wanting me to write next instalment. It blows my mind.

Loads of love. xx

P.S. And loads of love to my Anne 💜 @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur​

AO3

Claire closed her eyes, lips curling into a Cheshire cat-like smile. She leans back, the coolness of the pub stone wall feels pleasant on her heated skin. She hears the crackles of ice in her Gin & Tonic. Taking a sip, she feels her mouth explode into millions of stars as the drink slides over her tongue. The lime bites her tastebuds. She finds making a coherent sentence becoming more challenging as she consumes her third cocktail. Claire cautiously opens one eye to peer around the crowded room. The pub is warm and dimly lit, buzzing like a beehive with the sound of conversation, laughter, glasses clinking and slow soft jazz. Outside, it’s raining cats and dogs, the passersby hold onto their umbrellas as a buttress against the stormy wind. Ah, London.

Inside, it smells of cigarettes and well-worn aged-wood. It’s toasty but has become too much for her liking. It makes the soft curls at her nape stick to the skin. But she doesn’t dwell on it too long as she sees Jamie coming back from the bathroom. It is still a mystery to her how just the sight of him makes her edges soften and a tight knot appear in her lower belly. Claire takes another sip of her G & T, feeling the bubbles roll between her lips causing a prickle in her mouth. She is lost in thought, considering how she doesn't like mysteries. But she decides to solve this one called Jamie Fraser.

His bright hair shines with all the possible shades of red, even the ones she could not name. His jeans hang low, exposing the sliver of skin beneath his sweater like he doesn’t care. Claire has to hide a laugh inside her jumper sleeve when Jamie runs into a decoration hanging from the ceiling. He is so tall it brushes against his forehead. He curses. Surely something in Gaelic, Claire thinks.

“All right?” She says, saluting her glass to him.

“All right.” Jamie pours another glass of whisky for himself. He says something about waiters forgetting the salad she had ordered and if she wants him to go and ask... Claire barely registers the actual words, his Scottish burr is as smooth as melted butter, turning her blood boiling hot with need.

“Shall we have a toast?” Fraser leans his glass to hers, eyes never leaving her face.

She licks her lips and Jamie shifts his chair closer to hers, so he can drape his hand across her back.

“To unexpected meetings.” Beauchamp lifts her cocktail.

As Jamie’s thumb draws intricate patterns on her shoulder their conversation drifts into discussing one another day, the never-ending rain, and how good their drinks are. Claire mentions the documentary she saw recently on BBC and Jamie shares his love for Paolo Nutini’s music. They both agree that the guy is a bloody genius.

Claire lets herself melt into him, her body relaxes against his. Her head falls down Jamie’s shoulder, hand lays atop his thigh. The Scot draws her closer and she can feel his lips brushing her forehead softly.

They sit for some time allowing the silence to surround them.  Absorbing the atmosphere around them, the malty smell of good beer, of holiday decorations with their piney scent, and the howling of the wintry wind outside.

“So, Sassenach, do ye sleep without yer bottoms?” Jamie smirks at her.

She gives him a side-eye and laughs. He finds himself helpless around her. He feels lost in the face of feeling that somebody finds him truly funny. He watches as her lips, delicate pink and inviting, curl into a smile. Her giggles explode into laughter. Her smile could burn him from inside out and Christ, he would not mind being reduced to ash.

“Is that a trick question, Fraser?” She leans back on her chair, pops a cherry tomato into her mouth feeling it burst with sweet juice. “It depends on the occasion.”

Claire glances at him under her lashes and Jamie feels a hot lump stuck in his throat.

Suddenly he remembers a picture of her in a red dress (God, that neckline) that she sent him in response to his  “I hope ye have a merry and very happy Christmas, Sassenach! XX”  

He did not know that Claire’s breath hitched when he snapped a selfie of himself as a response. He looked dashing. The smart white shirt and half loosened tie made her let out a shaky breath.

Neither did he know that just within two days he’d encounter the Sassenach again.

On Boxing day head buzzing with business decisions, he walked toward the cashier at Ralph Lauren in Harrods, grasping a pyjama pants in his hands. That’s when his eyes noticed the mass of curls and he heard her high-class English accent moving among the clothing racks.

“I’ll take the top.” Her hands clutching the pyjamas top from the same set he was going to purchase.

“I’ll take the bottom.”

Claire looked at him over her shoulder and he drowned in the whisky coloured depths again. They had a good laugh about the fact that this set of nightwear brought them together again. Jamie teased her for buying the pyjamas in men’s section and Claire asked him something that made her heartbeat in anticipation.

“How often do you come to London?”

Then Jamie had asked her to grab a drink and she led him to her favourite pub in Hackney.

* * *

“Care for a dance?” Beauchamp stands up, holding her hand out for him. She feels a bit crazy and just slightly drunk with the alcohol she had and with him being so near. The smell of his cologne, amber wood and sea coast, and the memory of his lips learning the lines of her body, causing her to be a little reckless tonight. But who cares?

Jamie takes her hand, his fingers run through hers, her little anchor to hold on to. He leads her through the crowd. He feels his cheeks burn hot just from the nearness of her. When Claire’s hands wrap around his neck, he pulls her closer, fingers dig into the tender skin on her waist. She smells of lime, bright and juicy; of the lingering remnants of her flowery perfume and the smoke in her hair; she smells of hope, of the future.

Her cheek is against Jamie’s. His stubble brushing against her skin, a bit scratchy, but she doesn’t care. For a second Jamie thinks she trembles in his arms, but he assumes it’s just his imagination.

But she does tremble. Claire closes her eyes and lets him lead her. They sway slowly to the rhythm of the piano.

She feels weightless and care-free. She feels warm, warm from his body pressed so close against her as they dance. Her heart beats frantically, something quite usual when Jamie’s around.

When she opens her eyes she sees him looking at her. The roses bloom bright pink in her cheeks and she drops her gaze.

“Would I embarrass myself if I'd say I like ye, Sassenach?”

She looks up at him. And kisses him breathless. Her mind went blank. And they danced some more oblivious to the fact that the music has stopped. Nothing matters besides them being together here. In the city with the rain washing over the streets, the city of the alleys where time never stops, and the corner shops where bright vegetables spilt a paint blot in this grey winter.

Within the confines of their own universe, time suspends as they walk together, hand in hand to Jamie's car. When he kissed her eyelids and under eyes asking “What if I kissed ye here?” she did not know she ever needed to hear such questions from a man. But her knees went all wobbly and she ached so deep down the marrow of her bones.  Her heart thuds in her ears. His hair is the colour of burnt butter in the evening darkness of the car. There is a question on the tip of her tongue. Would you like to stay?

Jamie knows now that she lives in the pastel pink Victorian house.

She whimpers and sighs as his lips chart the map down her body. As he loves her with his mouth, she knows she cannot part with him just now.

Later Jamie learns that the sun crawls into her bedroom about seven in the morning and that she does sleep without bottoms.

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Thanks to all who keeps following this story! For all your lovely comments and messages in DM. <3

I've had so much fun writing this chapter. Xmas music was on as early as November started and inspiration hit me to write a wee bit of festivity. Hope you enjoy it!

P.S. Of course for full experience turn on your Christmas playlist or just listen to Michael Buble album ;)

Thanks to my beta @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur​ as always :)

Read on AO3.

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

Chapter IV: Lovestruck. Part I

Chapter V: Lovestruck. Part II

Chapter VI: Flecks of Sun

                                 Chapter VII: Mince pies & baubles

December

I used to think that I have grown out of loving Christmas time. In fact, I turned Scrooge-like and annoyed everyone around me with remarks about how this time has turned into something cynical, commercial, plastic. It wasn’t about love or family or Christianity anymore. Damn me, my Catholicism would be as fake as the myriad of Christmas advertisements. But this year something has changed. Or rather someone has changed it. 

The snowflakes were dancing around the narrow streets of Edinburgh draping the roofs in white fluffy blankets. The naked trees outlining the alleys and parks and the dull grey sky were a reminder of the seasons changing. The chill in the air made people wrap their scarfs around their necks while their coats kept them toasty warm. Rosy-cheeked and smiling, the young, old and the smallest ones were peering into the shiny, glittery shop windows. My feet froze in front of one featuring a festive woodland scene. I noticed my own reflection in the shiny glass, seeing a smile touch my lips as I gazed upon the scene. The eyes of Beauchamp who was happy. I really was. Dizzyingly, drunkenly, unbelievably happy.

The whole month has passed since that horrifying evening that made me think of the possibility of losing Jamie. 

The whole month of visits to Broch Mordha, of Jenny teaching me to cook (and failing), of Brian showing me different surroundings and telling me fascinating stories of the family Fraser (or clan as he called it).

Of me laughing until I would cry at the jokes Jamie’s godfather Murtagh made.

Of getting drunk and singing on the streets with Jamie and his childhood friends Angus and Rupert.

Of that sweet, touching feeling that made me so sentimental when Jenny and Ian’s children would call me Auntie Claire.

Of Geillis and me spending quiet cozy evenings together in my kitchen with a bottle of red.

Of Jamie and me trying to find a secure corner in Lallybroch to make love without being interrupted by his family.

Of us making plans for the summer and where we might spend our first vacation together. (me suggesting Rome, Jamie saying Amsterdam would be more interesting)

Of arguing over that for the first time and then having makeup sex that made the hairs on my skin rise and hide my eyes away from the neighbours the next day.

Of catching a cold and then giving it to one another, spending two days at home, snuggled up on the couch in the company of disgusting snotty tissues.

Of twenty-three mornings, days and nights of Jamie making me coffee, greeting the sunrise together and making love in the darkness of the night.

Of five hundred hours saying I love you.

* * * 

“Claire? What takes ye so long? I’ll freeze all my manly bits down here waiting for ye.” Jamie’s voice sounded muffled, mixed up with the noise of the traffic outside. “Ye ken, ye could put on a Tesco bag as a dress and yer still be the most bonnie and sexy lass I’d ever seen.”

Snorting (not ladylike at all and reminding Adso to be a good boy), I put on the only pair of heels I’d own (sleek and shiny, black stiletto) finally making it outdoors.

December 20th was the day Geillis threw a Christmas party each year. Though this time I’d much prefer to stay at home with Jamie trying to recreate his mom’s Gingerbread cookies recipe. But, I could not say no to my best friend.

Jumping into the car I cursed feeling all the sharp embroidery of the dress I’d bought (a black bodycon, fully covered in beads, ending just slightly above my knees) dig into my skin.

“Jesus H.Roosevelt Christ!” I hissed as my hand immediately reached for the button of the heating control. “Of course you’d freeze everything in here, you bloody Scot.”

Expecting Jamie’s usual reaction - rolling his eyes, saying something in Gaelic I did not understand (on purpose), and then laughing at me, I turned my head.

“What?”

His mouth was slightly agape as his eyes travelled from my feet up to my body. Lingering for a second on my hips, he licked his lips. By the time his gaze reached my face, his eyes darkened becoming a stormy blue.

“What?” I repeated, shifting on the leather seat. 

“Fuck,” All of a sudden he sounded exactly the same when he whispered my name with last thrusts inside me. “Yer the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen, Sassenach.”

My heart started beating out of control. The way he looked at me - I already was seeing the stars without even being touched.

“Fuck?” My brow quirked in a question as I leaned to him, taking a fistful of his white collar. “Are you suggesting something, my lad?”

He swallowed. Not able to resist I dragged my tongue over his Adam’s apple. His skin tasted bitter (the cologne he’d used) and a bit stinging (the remnants of the stubble).

“I’ll have ye until ye forget yer own name,”  Jamie’s finger drew intricate patterns up my leg, sliding over the black material of stockings. 

My breath hitched as his hand slipped under the hem of my dress.

I bit my lower lip thinking Geillis would kill me if we were late. And surely my redheaded friend will make all kinds of inappropriate guesses as to why we did not arrive not on time.

Jamie removed his hand just as if he read my mind.

“Though there are at least a million and one things I would love to do to ye right now,” he brought his hands back to the steering wheel. “I canna wait another hour for ye to dress. And ye’d definitely need to change afterward.”

Jamie gave me the most awful wink that made me laugh out loud.

“I’ll hold you to a million and one things, James Fraser.”

As the evening progressed, we drank (wine and whisky, clearly a regret in the morning), Jamie devoured at least a dozen of canapes complaining that there’s no real food (and Geillis assuming with a smirk that “Claire, do ye no feed yer Highlander?”). We danced. My cheek resting just above his heart, arms wrapped around his neck, Jamie’s hands on the small of my back.

I ached. I felt hot and needy. More and more with each hour of Jamie’s innocent (not at all) words and texts (though we barely left each other) of what he was going to do to me once we are home. 

An accidental (not) brush on Jamie’s leg with the tip of my shoe under the table.

A squeeze of his hand on my hip as we danced.

A chaste kiss in the company of Geillis watching us and the one that took my breath away when no one paid attention.

On our way back the car windows steamed up with alcoholic breath or perhaps it was from the mist of desire floating between us.

When my aching feet crossed the threshold, kicking off the shoes, Jamie’s hand closed the door pressing me against it. The skin on my face was hot, flushed. But Jamie's fingertips ran over my heated body leaving a pleasantly cool trail over my cheek and neck.

I was nothing but my body. The dim hall light blurred into one endless mirage. He was kissing me then. The tip of my nose. With a quite mumble “cute one”.

His lips hot with desire blazed a path of sweet kisses. My eyelids. Cheeks. Lips.

When my dress fluttered down my body to the floor with a soft rustling Jamie led me to the bedroom.

Our lovemaking was the bridge to one another that we had built and rebuilt every time our bodies joined. In the aftermath, we laid in the darkness of the room with the only sound of Adso’s purring interrupting the pleasant stillness.

Limbs still entwined, Jamie drew me even closer seeking to imprint our union forever into the skin. I curled up around him, my lips pressed to a soft curl on his neck.

Through the soothing warmth of sleep, I thought I heard Jamie mumble something about buying a Christmas tree and going to Broch Mordha.

For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary. It is all. It is undying. And it is enough.

* * *

Mornings in winter were very dark and cold. But at the same time cosy and serene, despite the cold that drew a frozen lace upon my cheeks each time I ran down to my car in a hurry to warm it up. Nights last much longer bringing that peacefulness with them. It was my favourite time. I could curl up covered by a heavy duvet, wrapped up in Jamie’s embrace, listening to his heartbeat. The darkness of winter mornings was a chance for my lips to find that hollow space on Jamie’s neck in the dark, where he was tender and delicate. I would press a kiss there, his skin smelling musky with his own perfume and the memory of our lovemaking. 

Later, when the sun warmed up the room, my legs felt like Jello from morning sex and I dissolved limp and slick as I lay on top of Jamie. Despite my amorous morning activities, my mind was still partly sleepy. Jamie, on the other hand, was out of bed in seconds, urging me to hurry up. In the end, it wasn’t a dream about buying a tree. Jamie had the whole plan set up and I obediently followed him. Though I wasn’t sure why I’d need a Christmas tree when we were going to celebrate in Broch Mordha with his family.

Morning began with having fresh croissants in the bakery with herbal tea and polishing off with mulled wine from the market stall (Jamie saying it’s not a crime at this time of the year after my remark that we look like chronical alcoholics sipping Gluhwein in the middle of the day).

Jamie stoically handled my nagging about the pine needles that’ll be all over my beige carpet,  Adso’s misbehaving and surely kicking the tree down, and how awful we are chopping down the real one.

He rolled his eyes only several times as I kept choosing one tree over another. We’d spent about three hours at the tree farm, becoming cold to the point I couldn’t feel my toes anymore. We struggled for thirty minutes to load the green beauty to Jamie’s car and laughed so hard, the passerby surely thought us mental.

I had spilled the hot cocoa all over my jacket and dropped mushy marshmallows to the car seat. Jamie hoovered the insides of his car for another hour trying to get rid of the pine needles and the mess I’ve created. He cursed in Gaelic every other second as he tried to fit the three through the doorway. All of this adventure was so far away from the perfect but it felt so real, so ours, and so magical.

“I love you.” I whispered into his lips, being held up high in Jamie’s arms. I retrieved a box of vintage tree ornaments and lights from the highest shelf in my flat knowing that they would be just perfect on our tree.

When the pink and fluffy skies turned into the dark-blue, Jamie and I sat on the floor amongst packets of tinsel, tangled lights, and shiny baubles.

My life never resembled anything close to what one would see on a TV commercial. It had been some time since I truly felt happy at Christmas, now I felt as though that feeling of peak and joy come back.

As the second mug of tea was drunk, I sat with my back pressed to Jamie’s chest, his knees as two guards around my hips. The Spotify Christmas playlist and the warmth of Jamie next to me made me feel half sleepy as I lazily dug through the decorations.

“Where did ye get all of those?” He pointed to the box of baubles.

My fingers that fought stubborn mess of tangled lights, froze.

“It’s from my childhood.” My voice sounded distant. “I know it’s a pile of old crap, but I could never throw it away.”

Jamie’s lips softly touched the back of my neck.

“Tis no crap, Sassenach. Tis yer memories. And ye should always keep em here.” His hand came around my chest and laid over my frantically beating heart.

Suddenly my mind conjured up the picture that was still so vivid. It is 1991 and our Christmas tree is ridiculous. At least that’s what four years old me thinks and I don’t forget to inform my dad of my thoughts. My father stands on the ladder that dangerously wobbles as he tries to secure a star on top of the tree. There is Miracle on 34th street rolling on TV and my mum plugs in the Christmas lights. I happily squeal and grin at the sight of it. My parents kiss and I say it’s gross but just then dad chases me over the room to give me sloppy kisses on my cheeks. I explode with giggles and ask for the hundredth time when Santa is going to come. We eat the best roast dinner and watch Home Alone, the three of us curled up on the couch. I’m beyond thrilled I’m allowed to stay up late but fall asleep right after the movie finishes. In the morning I am a proud owner of a doll in a blue dress that Santa had brought me. 

And now I realize that Christmas tree from distant 1991 was just the perfect one. As perfect as the one I was looking at now, with Jamie’s arms wrapped around my waist. 

It was tall, brushing the ceiling, filled with all the ornaments I own, bathed in tinsels and ceramic snowflakes. 

“Shall we?” Jamie kissed the tip of my ear and plugged the lights in.

The tree shone and my heart together with it.

“It’s beautiful.” 

“Well, now I have to move my things in here.” Jamie spun me in his arms humming to Buble’s version “It’s beginning to look like Christmas”

My brows furrowed as I escaped his embrace to steal a piece of mince pie we’d bought two days earlier. (Jamie with an almost childlike squeal plodded down the aisle of Christmas stuff in Waitrose, saying we must get these).

“Why so?” I pinched his jaw with my forefinger and thumb.

“For one,” Jamie raised a finger to tap down my nose, followed by a slightest of lips brush. “I’m terribly worried for the health of yer wee cheetie. Those awful candles ye buy and burn, Sassenach. A Dhia, the poor cat will suffocate.”

I snorted.

“Nonsense. You love it.” 

A high-pitched squealing left my throat as I tried to escape Jamie’s hand that made an attempt to smack my arse. Adso that has been observing his parents from a nest made out of a duvet on the couch sniffed, yawned and walked away, showing with all his being how ridiculous we are. (And yes, Jamie declared that now he’s the full-time dad to my cat taking into account the amount of time he spends at my flat).

“And second of all,” my boyfriend with a grace better than Adso’s reached me in two steps. “We have bought a Christmas tree together. That’s a commitment. A serious one.”

Failing in my attempt to hide behind the aforementioned tree I let Jamie take me by the wrist, drawing me into his arms. He let his hands scatter down my sides, stopped for a second to knead my hips, finally squeezing my bottom with the most mischievous look I’ve ever seen him make.

“God, yer arse.” 

“A commitment?” I licked my lips feeling my heart beating frantically. “What you have in mind, Mr Fraser?”

Jamie started to sway us in a slow rocking dance motion, turning off the main light with his left hand. The room sank into a cozy glow of Christmas lights that flickered on the baubles and tinsel. The candles that lived on my coffee table (now Christmas edition - Spiced Gingerbread and Twisted Peppermint) gave a touch of a true home, drawing the shadowy patters on the wall. As the voice of Buble sang “I’ll be home for Christmas, you can plan on me…”

Jamie leaned forward to kiss me with a whisper.

“I think we should move in together, Claire.”

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Part II has landed, my friends. I hope you enjoy it. :)

NSFW under the cut.

As always I’ll never get tired to say the words of appreciation to my beta @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur​ <3 

Thanks for sticking with this story, guys.  ♥

All the chapters can be found on AO3 as well.

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

Chapter IV: Lovestruck. Part I

                              CHAPTER V: Lovestruck. Part II

Jamie ran feeling his leg muscles burn with the effort. Endlessly long, his feet stumbling over the dry branches cracking under his feet startling forest’s inhabitants that seem not to care of his attempt to escape. They know there is no way out. He feels the slap of wet leaves on his face and scratches all over his skin. An aching hollow space inside his chest is growing bigger and bigger. Ultimately, Jamie knows his heart will be ripped out at the end. The sweat dripped down his face forming salty paths. Jamie wants to scream that it stops. He wants to fall down and beg for mercy. But something behind pushes him back further and further into the darkness. His own mother’s voice whispering “Ye didna try hard enough.” 

In the end, the darkness has won. Once again he succumbs to its cold clutches.

* * *

The crisp, fresh Highland air always brings him back on track. Jamie thinks it is one of the main reasons why he feels much better when he’s in the wilderness, especially since his Mam has passed away. He enjoys the freezing early morning air, giving his skin goosebumps and his mind to think straight once again.

He shivers at the swoosh of cold wind. His toes slowly developing a bluish tinge standing on a chilly stone patio. The skies are pink aquarelle with white fluffy marshmallow clouds passing by. Jamie can hear the birds taking charge of the morning chirping away in the garden in front of him. He thinks Claire would love the view. Claire.

Jamie tiptoes back inside closing the doors behind him back facing the wall. Even if he wanted to wake her to catch the beauty of early rising he could not do it. Jamie has learned by now that Claire was a relatively light sleeper. Not by her nature but rather her professional duties. She always slept with her iPhone kept near at hand always, heard each and every message and call. Sometimes Jamie wanted to throw that technical invention through the window and see it break into small pieces. It was his only chance to see her peaceful. Her face always seemed to be concentrating, as if she was not truly asleep. But now that little crease between her eyebrows seemed to be gone.

Claire usually slept like a child with her knees brought up close to her body and wrapped up into a blanket cocoon-like, now was sprawled on her back. The mass of curls exploded into the waves all over the pillow. Like a crown, he thought. One of her breasts peeked from under the quilt, her veins cast a bluish trail over her pale skin all the way down the soft hip pressed to the mattress in its relaxed shape. Jamie was sure he knew each and one of those blue paths under her skin and could trace the map of them on her body with his eyes closed. The morning sun travelled through the thin curtains running its warm rays over Claire’s skin. There was something that came to his mind so sudden that the realisation almost knocked him down. 

Sorcha. 

She was his remedy from that darkness he was running from. That light he longed for so badly but could never find.

When Jamie slid under the blankets next to her she stirred just a bit but did not wake.

He could try to speak to her in English, Gaelic, French; he would even learn any other language just trying to explain what he felt. But it still would not be enough. He was falling in love. Falling in love gave him the same tickling sensation inside his belly and made him breathless as when he rode the roller coaster for the first time at the age of ten.

* * *

Half awake and drowsy I thought that my cat decided to crawl under the quilt in an attempt to beg for his morning feeding. My eyes snapped open when reality kicked in. I viewed a glorious pink sky surrounding the high mountains I saw yesterday through the window of the cottage. The sun crept along the wall, drawing knitted lines of light there. I watched the sunny glimpse run away (creation of the curtains dancing in the wind). It climbed up on the bed all the way up burying itself inside Jamie’s red hair that shone like Amber. His head found its residence in the valley between the milky white of my legs. Jamie’s lips softly touched a spot on the inner side of my thigh where three birthmarks gathered together. 

“Ye ken ye have a witch mark here?” His thumb circled dark dots upon my skin.

Something that vaguely sounded like “mmmm” escaped my mouth. All of a sudden I forgot how to breathe. 

“Now I ken about them too.” 

The rest of the blanket was pushed aside falling to the floor with a soft whisper. It was the competing temperatures, the cool air of the room playing against my hot skin, that raised goosebumps all over me.

I tried to tell him that I am not a witch though (as if they really existed and he was going to execute me). But the words remained stuck inside my throat only letting out a moan when the velvet of Jamie’s tongue descended lower. In mere seconds, my legs began to tremble, hips instinctively rising up with want. But Jamie’s hand laid atop my stomach keeping me pinned on the mattress. A shuddering sigh left my seized lungs as Jamie flicked his tongue once, twice and then his lips closed over the sensitive flesh sucking.

The ceiling started to spin above and I closed my eyes, surrendering to the only existing thing in the world that moment - Jamie. His exploration up and down, from left to right, circling and suckling did not last long before the daylight has disappeared from the view and my cry echoed in the room.

As the real world returned and I regained my senses, I felt my breathing slowly return from short gasping breaths. Jamie's blue eyes settled on me excitedly remarking, "We have a great day ahead of us."

Jamie indeed had plans. It was hiking in fact (“it’s a must in Highlands, ye canna not do it”). Mentally I kicked myself for stopping jogging in the mornings. How big is the chance that I’m not going to be out of breath ten minutes into our nature exploration? The yoga classes where I went with Geillis was also abandoned after several weeks. “I stand enough on my feet in the surgery” I reasoned with myself (and Geillis who made a remark about having “trained arse”).

With perfectly ripe avocados on toast and cherry tomatoes for breakfast (with occasional kisses in between, Jamie tasting sweetly of orange juice and I of strong coffee) we made it outdoors.

The Highlands was dressed in autumn. The leaves were toned in shades of orange, red, and gold causing the scenery to look as if someone had spilled paint down them. Other sepia coloured leaves fell down, whispering their goodbyes to the last warm days. They rustled softly as they dropped from dry branches bidding their farewells. I remembered as a child I liked collecting star-shaped maple leaves, creating a bouquet of reddish-brown remnants of summer. I used to put them between the pages of my Dad’s books in his office. Usually, he would find them days later and smile at me. Together we would take them out and stick into the notebook I had. We did that each autumn until my blue notebook was left behind. As well as the life of my parents when uncle Lamb turned the keys to close the door of our London house. That way he locked away my childhood forever.

Jamie was a walking book of legends and stories. Since we left the cottage he was telling me all kinds of things I’ve never even heard about. He made a remark that I should be ashamed I live in Scotland and only heard about the Loch Ness Monster. 

“Have ye ever heard about Kelpies?”

“No, I haven’t,” I shook my head clinging to Jamie’s forearm for support when we passed a muddy puddle.

“Kelpies were said to take the form of a horse. They could also take a human form. They would use their beauty to lure people to climbing upon them before being taking them into the water, not to be seen again.”

“Charming.” I grimaced.

“Dinna fash, I willna let them take ye.” Jamie laughed grabbing me by the waist before I was trapped under his lips.

The cool mid-autumn air slightly burned inside of my throat when I inhaled too deeply. Not being used to such fresh, crisp sensation I coughed feeling my eyes water. Jamie who walked next to me, kicking the leaves with his shoes, squeezed my hand softly.

“Yer okay, mo nighean donn?”

I liked the sound of the Gaelic he spoke sometimes. His ability to fluidly incorporate it into his speech when he spoke to me made me long to hear it even more. Made me long for him. There was something about the way he sounded. The soft lilt of his voice, the deepness of his accent with a trace of huskiness that poisoned my blood with curiosity and mystery. I was dying to know what he was saying but also wished it to remain a secret. But I could not resist.

“Jamie, what you just said, what does it mean?”

Jamie stopped turning me to face him. His warm breath travelled upon my skin as his forehead leaned to meet mine. He smiled lips curling into a soft shape.

“It means my brown-haired lass.”

“Rather a dull colour I always thought,” I whispered, the pink blooming in my cheeks.

His lips brushed mine. Hands tangling around his neck, I kissed back, fingers running along with the soft curls on his nape.

“No,” Jamie’s finger gently touched a stray curl on my cheek. “No, not dull at all. It’s like the water in a burn, the way it ruffles down the rocks. Dark in the wavy spots with wee bits of auburn when the sun touches it.”

I knew this wasn’t just a crush on him. I was well and truly smitten. There was such a serenity when he was around that I could not imagine how should I carry on if he suddenly disappeared. My heart was swelling with my feelings growing with something that one day I could name as love. And I was unquestionably petrified but with him, there was nothing I could be afraid of.

Every time he looked at me like that, the world seemed to stop.When he kissed me, I felt breathless as if all the air from my lungs. His presence, his being was stretching throughout my whole body wrapping around my heart and cradling my soul between his hands. How could I not be falling in love with this man?

 Jamie softly kissed her temple when she closed her eyes. His heart leapt as he held her like that. They stood there in the middle of nowhere, with the mountain rising above them, golden leaves falling down. They were spiralling all the way to the ground as the signs of a bright future life holds for them. The way Claire’s body melted into his, her chin rested at the crook of his neck, Jamie’s hands holding her waist tightly. It was more intimate than anything else they’d done already.

“Claire, about what ye said yesterday,” He spoke quietly into her hair. “Do ye really feel that way?”

Her words echoed in his fevered mind. ‘I fancy you. Very much.’

She nodded.

A romantic inside Jamie wanted to tell her that he loved her from the first moment Claire’s solid head bumped into him but he nodded back tightening his grip on her.

The mountains rose high into the blue. We passed fields with yellowish grass, still wet with morning dew making our shoes damp; It was a glorious expanse of dried grass softly rustling in the wind bending over where we walked creating a pathway.

When my fingers became cold and numb from the freezing Highlands wind Jamie untangled our hands to share the pocket of his jacket with me. We ate a tuna sandwich and vinegar crisps on the wooden bench that stood in the valley near an abandoned cabin. Jamie spilled half of our coffee from the tumbler he prepared. I stifled a need to laugh at him, my thumb gently sweeping away sandwich crumbs from his lower lip. My lips chapped from the wind but Jamie’s touch soothed the burning sensation.

“Ye ken that Loch Lomond,” Jamie pointed to the left where in the distance a great lake stretched out. “Is the largest water lake in British Isles?”

“It surely looks like it,” I smiled looking at the dark water on the horizon. “How do you know so much?”

Jamie chuckled speeding up in front of me to let me pass in safety then, with the help of his steady hand.

“I grew up in the countryside, Sassenach. That’s where I belong. That’s what I love. A Scot must know his history.”

“You know, you would be one of those Highlander warriors in the past for sure.” Laughing, I pinched his biceps.

When we reached the blanket of trees at the base of the mountain, the sun started to go down in the horizon. The sky almost vanished in the forest leaving us with small glimpses of the blue coming through the thickness of pines above us. We took at least a hundred awful selfies during our four-hour hike. I spied a flower that bloomed in all possible shades of purple. Crouching down, I took a picture of it so I could look it up later.

I heard the leaves rustling under Jamie’s feet when he appeared next to me holding out his phone.

“I, er… I... I need to take a pish,” Jamie announced shyly. “Dinna want to drop it down the rocks”

“Smart.” I chuckled hiding his iPhone into the depths of my jeans pocket. 

The mist started to gather around covering the ground with a smoky quilt. I inhaled fresh air perfumed with the rich fragrances of the trees and plants. It was filled with a promise of coming rain clouds ready to burst any moment. I mentally estimated how long we have to get to the cottage before we got soaking wet.

The buzz of Jamie’s phone took me out of my thoughts. Not sure what to do, I fished it out my pocket. 

“Jamie, you got a text!” I shouted into the tall trees startling a lonely bird from the bush.

“Who’s it from?” His voice echoed back somewhere from the left. 

Hesitating for a few seconds I looked down at the screen to see the message. Involuntarily my eyes ran along two lines of letters.

“How are u, mo ghraidh? Dougal popped by, said he canna reach ye, it was urgent. I guessed ye didna have a connection there. Xx.”

The box From said Jen with two emojis -a heart and a house. It was Jenny.

“It’s your sister.” I handed him the phone when he came out brushing off the pine needles from his pants.

When we were going down I wondered what those words meant that Jenny had called him. It was something he’d said to me once before. While Jamie was telling me something about the castle that we could see from our path I googled the meaning of Gaelic that I could not understand. 

It said, “My love” and my heart sank down my chest and then almost broke free out of it ready to burst with happiness.

My love.

* * *

The countryside stretched itself around us in brown, golden and burgundy stains of colours. The hills rolled in soft waves of yellow grass meeting the ground in the valleys with hidden flora.

We walked back in companionable silence holding our hands, fingers securely tangled together, not breaking that needed contact between us.

When there was less than a kilometre until we get to the house the grey skies grumbled with anger. The heavy clouds no longer wanted to wait and cold drops started to fall down as gunfire. In no time it turned into a heavy storm soaking the ground beneath us until it was soft and slippery under our feet. The downpour of water felt icy cold and we had to run lest we get completely wet. The wind howled muting our laughs but for once in the longest time, I felt reckless and happy.

Jamie went to the bedroom peeling off his clothes that stuck to the skin. I followed in suit, not wishing to catch a cold and left a damp pile of clothes on the floor. While I had the time I filled the bathtub with steaming water. Turning off the main light the room went into the warm glow of the candles I’d managed to find in the cabinet in the living room. They were half used, the wax melted into peculiar figures. I had placed them in the corners near the windows and popped a couple on the bathtub sides. Sliding down the water, my eyes closed at the feeling of heat soaking into me. I physically could feel each muscle in my body relax and become numb, limp. 

Jamie stood in a doorway looking at me quietly. In this light, he reminded me of a Greek statue. He was beautifully made. With long, graceful bones and flat muscles that flowed smoothly from the curves of chest and shoulder to the slight concavities of belly and thigh. He was fair with bits of freckles but slightly touched by the sun, toned in a way that reminded me floral honey.

“Come here,” I spoke quietly lifting my hand up from the depths of the water.

He walked over slowly, stepping gracefully as a cat, not breaking our gaze. I felt a tight knot in the bottom of my belly starting to ache just by looking at him. Soon his boxers were left aside together with the puddle of my clothes. The water raised slightly when Jamie got in, sitting behind me, my back pressed to his chest. His hands roamed on the water slick sides of my thighs and my head dropped down his shoulder. I hummed an appreciative ‘hmmm’ at his touch. It felt soothing and much needed after our long hike.

“I must tell ye something, Sassenach.” His voice sounded husky. It was the tone that pulled at the deepest strings inside me. “I’m sure ye bewitched me. Cause for God’s sake I canna imagine how I managed to live without ye before.”

My head turned slightly to the left as my lips had found the column of his neck. I loved to touch him. But not just in a sexual way. Being with him, simply existing in the same space, in a distance of millimetres of each other. This became my everyday dose of oxygen. I craved him. All of him. Including his soul and heart and all of his body. He seeped deep into my being and would remain there forever I was sure of it. And I could not remember life before him anymore. As it simply could not be there without James Fraser. I ached for him every time we separated and I would be a damn fool to deny that.

“I think I can’t imagine that either,” I whispered kissing my way down his torso. When he was well-loved with my lips, my mouth and hands Jamie pulled me up cradling my face between his palms.

“I could love ye, Claire. I could love ye well.”

I exhaled feeling his moist full lips tracing my collarbone. When Jamie lifted me up from the water that became our shelter of warmth and my hands circled around his neck I remembered.

When Jamie kissed the tip of my nose I remembered twisting my ankle two years ago on the slippery grocery store tile after the rain.

When his hands held me tightly, the drops scattering off my body I remembered calling first Geillis asking to bring me to A&E. 

When Jamie’s lips softly touched my forehead I remembered that I called Frank but he did not pick up being busy at the meeting.

When Jamie passed the first stair I remembered I stayed home and felt lonely.

When Jamie’s lips dragged down my neck I remembered that Frank had left to the conference in London saying that he’d call me several times a day to check on me.

When Jamie gently laid me down the bed I remembered feeling awfully lonely despite Frank’s words of reassurance and support, calls and promise to come back soon.

When Jamie’s thumb brushed over my nipple I remembered feeling empty.

When Jamie held me I felt safe. And when he leaned in to kiss me I whispered into his lips.

“I could love you too. I could love you well.”

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle Masterlist

It's funny the things you remember - like spilled coffee making a stain on my coat, chilly November morning and memory of hot whisper sending goosebumps down my skin, "I love you" said in an agony and fear of losing him, losing us. Or the vase that Jamie had bought me and it found its place on the top shelf in my bedroom.

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

Chapter IV: Lovestruck. Part I

Chapter V: Lovestruck. Part II

Chapter VI: Flecks of Sun

Chapter VII: Mince pies & baubles

Chapter VIII: Home

Chapter IX: Once upon a dream 

Chapter X: Of loss and faith

[maviemesregles]

Coming soon...

Crowded Marseille coastline in August brings the two together again. Under french sun would they remember as it was? The way they said goodbye some time ago promising to forget.

P.S.

So this Nobleman photoshoot has inspired quite a few people for the moodboards. And since I have zero self-control of keeping an intrigue... Here is an announcement for the new story I’ve been working on. It’ll be five parts fic with ex’s trope... 

Coming in a month.

A wee preview  down below.

                                                       * * *  

It’s twenty past eight in the evening and it is still hot in Marseille. 

The city drowns in warm flickering lights swallowed inside the bellies of yellow windows glow. It smells like freedom married to salty breeze of the Mediterranean Sea. The air is thick, pregnant with a scent of ruby wine, seafood and carelessness. 

This place is a perfect spot beckons to come here and be lost. Perhaps it’s rich wines and l’hommes français. It might be lulling rush of the waves sounding like angels wings. Or the glimmering sun that kisses the skin in the most secret places. 

Claire gathers her hair, thick and dry from salty water, secures it in a loose bun. She feels the droplet of sweat rolling down her nape, tickling softest skin on her back. It disappears behind her summer dress, following the route of her spine. Daisies on her dress flutter with a wind, hugging her thighs with its silky touch.

[maviemesregles]

Preview Once I was an Eagle

Oki doki, you guys. Again it’s taking me way to long to launch the next chapter. I think I’ve put too much pressure on myself with updating this fic and with all the assignments at the uni and just life getting in the way I can’t give you updates once a week (not each time at least). And because I want it all to be perfect, and not just some writing to meet my own deadlines I have to say there might be some time stretches once in a while. But for those who read and follow this story (thank you loves <3) I thought I’ll give you a wee look at chapter 6. Which I’m rewriting second time after deleting what I’ve written before. Anyway, I’m back on track and thought I might update you with how the things go. We are nearing the angst part and the present times of this fic (the opening scene in Chapter 1). 

I hope you enjoy this little preview (no beta, no editing yet) and bear with me until I post finished one. 

Much love <3

Claire’s cheeks were positively glowing when she realised it was a selfie of her and Jamie snapped during their hiking two weeks ago. It was a silly one. Jamie was smiling so wide as if he received the best news ever while Claire gave him a smooch on a cheek, her hair wild, independent creature lose. Jenny snorted noticing Claire’s face become scarlet red. “Jamie put it right after yer wee hike adventure,” woman adjusted a magnet (that she and Ian brought from Greece) that held a small square photo. “This is our fridge of ridiculous family photos.” A lopsided smile touched her lips when Jenny turned back to the salad she was preparing. Claire left alone without curious gaze of Jamie’s older sister looked at the white appliance covered in what seemed a hundred pictures of Frasers. There were childhood photos of all siblings, including William. One captured all three of them playing in a small swimming pool outside on a particularly sunny day. Little girl with two dark ponytails was laughing held high up by her father. She was about six years old. Her brother Willie was much fascinated by a yellow ball in his hands with a little red-headed Jamie by his side. He was clearly trying to get the ball out of Willie’s hands. Claire’s eyes moved a bit up to find a picture of Christmas evening. Ellen Fraser with a little baby swaddled in her arms (it was Jamie, Claire assumed) sitting on a carpet by the huge Christmas tree surrounded by her other two bairns, who proudly held their new presents, with ripped wrapping paper scattered around them. There was a black and white photo of the wedding day that forever captured happy faces of Frasers standing outside the church in Inverness. Another one of Jamie all dressed up at his High school graduation. One of Jenny holding her university diploma, both parents proud at her side. Ian and Jenny on their honeymoon in Spain, ridiculously tanned. Pictures of all family outside the hospital, Ian’s overwhelmed face as he held his newborn son, Jenny drowning in bouquets of flowers she held and a blue balloon floating over her head that said: “It’s a boy!”. And now there was a picture of Jamie and Claire. Somehow she felt thrilled by the fact Jamie has decided to put their photo there as she belonged to this family. Was that much important for him. As she turned to ask if Jenny needed any help, Jamie’s sister picked up a phone that was ringing for the second time already. Claire never knew that colour from someone’s cheeks can drain away that quickly.

“Jenny?” She tentatively touched Fraser’s shoulder watching her face become paler and paler. Something awful and cold started rising deep from Claire’s belly making her shiver.

“It’s Jamie. There’s been an accident.”