#outlander 07x01

[gotham-ruaidh]

redemption

"Any goodness that prevails in me is because of my wife" - Jamie to Lionel Brown, 07x01 "A Life Well Lost"

--

The final scene in 07x01 "A Life Well Lost" shows us who Jamie thinks he is - a vengeful, violent man.

But - but - we know he isn't. Because he has Claire in his life. He did her a service by marrying her, to keep her safe - sacrificing himself in the process (and many times, subsequently). He can be selfish at times, but is selfless when it comes to her.

She brings out the good in him, because she IS the good in him. She is a gift from God in his life. Loving her - always putting her first - is his absolution from God for the dozens and dozens of sins he has committed for her sake, and for the sake of the ones he loves.

Claire is Jamie's redemption.

And he knows it.

-----------------------------------------------

“They are dead because of me, Sassenach. And because of their own wickedness. If there is guilt, let it rest upon them. Or on me.” “Not on you alone,” I said, my eyes still closed…“You’re blood of my blood, bone of my bone. You said so. What you do rests on me, as well.” “Then may your vow redeem me,” he whispered.

– A Breath of Snow and Ashes

----

"I will find you," he whispered in my ear. "I promise. If I must endure two hundred years of purgatory, two hundred years without you—then that is my punishment, which I have earned for my crimes. For I have lied, and killed, and stolen; betrayed and broken trust. But there is the one thing that shall lie in the balance. When I shall stand before God, I shall have one thing to say, to weigh against the rest."

His voice dropped, nearly to a whisper, and his arms tightened around me.

"Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, and God! I loved her well."

-- Dragonfly in Amber

[gotham-ruaidh]

i am slain

 𝟭𝘅𝟬𝟳 || 𝟳𝘅𝟬𝟭

[gotham-ruaidh]

well-lived; a 7x01 story

By all rights, Claire should have slept like the dead. And she had, for a time – from pure physical and emotional exhaustion.

But now it was deep in the quiet night. Jamie had left the single candle burning on her bedside table, and the window across the room cracked open an inch, canvas curtains swaying gently in the breeze. Not a sound from the streets below.

When she stood up, he didn’t shift beside her. Asleep yet not fully asleep. For he – she – they – could not fully rest until back in their own home, their own bed, the fresh clean air of the mountains all around them.

Jamie had never understood her need to wash so regularly. To the extent that a sound scrubbing of his face and hands were the price of admission to bed, he complied. But now, as she gently undid the buttons of her shirt and slid out of her skirt, she knew he’d understand her need to cleanse.

Softly she folded her sweaty clothes on the bed. Padded across the room, blissfully naked, to the pitcher and basin left by the innkeeper’s wife. Set down the candle on the edge of the dresser. Quietly poured into the basin, and reached for the cloth beside it. Dabbed it in the water, and then all over her neck and face and shoulders.

Jamie had been somewhere that night, while she slept – that much she knew. His breeches and waistcoat sat neatly folded on the chair beside the dresser; she knew his dirk was beneath his pillow. Where he had been, who he had been with, what he had done…what he was planning for the Browns, when they returned home…he would tell her, when the time was right. Honesty has room for secrets, but not for lies.

She pressed the damp cloth against her forehead, and sighed. A long, shaky exhale.

She was alive. She was whole. And her man had come.

The man whose eyes she felt now, from across the room.

She turned – he had propped up on one elbow, eyes shining in the dark. Savoring her.

Electric.

“Come,” she whispered.

And he was there, pulling his shirt over his head in that boyish way that still made her smile. Standing perpendicular to her, his navel pressed into her hip, his hands warm and steady as he took the damp cloth from her.

Kissing every inch of skin he cleaned.

Lingering in the soft spot on the side of her neck. Nose buried beneath her jaw, hands locked tight around her hip, anchoring her to him as he kissed and sucked the sensitive skin.

Her stomach quivered.

“I dreamed you were hangit.” His whisper was so hoarse. “That you were all alone, and I couldna save you.” A small bite, in the shelter of her neck. “Right here. Your beautiful skin.”

Her hand skimmed his arm, thumb rubbing the soft spot inside his elbow. “I’m here,” she breathed. “Can’t you feel my heart?”

He made a sound – half sob. His eyelashes fluttered against her cheek. “You are my heart.”

She turned her head – his eyes were wild, scared, frantic.

She rested her thumb on his cheek, cradling his face. “Sshh.”

“You know there isnae anything I wouldna do for you, Claire?”

Now she shifted her body. Standing belly to belly, her bare feet tucked between his. “Hush. Of course I know.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed. “All the things I’ve done, or let be done…”

She interrupted him with a kiss. Slow, a surprise.

Heat bloomed.

He dropped the cloth. Picked her up, her legs twining around his waist.

“Uxor mea,” he gasped.

[gotham-ruaidh]

I was chatting yesterday with the lovely @lady-o-ren about this post, where I talk about Jamie's violent inner self and how his love for Claire redeems him from that violence. Saves him from sin. Absolves him in the eyes of God.

@lady-o-ren pointed out that Jamie is quite self-aware of his inner violent self - a self that only Claire's love for him (and his love for Claire) keeps in check. He fears this inner self - he knows it is nothing but destructive.

And, Jamie himself says this to Claire several times in the Books - which is something I hadn't remembered! Producing the quotes here:

In Voyager Ch 54 where Jamie sorta talks about it. It's after Claire's been stitched up by Yi Tien Cho and he's telling her about Culloden and Murtagh dying. "I could feel it there, a hot red thing in my chest and belly, and … I gave myself to it,” he ended simply."

In Fiery Cross Ch 17 is where Jamie talks about being in a mob. “I didn’t think you would. Can’t see you as part of a mob.” He kissed her ear, not to reply directly. He could see himself as part of a mob, all too easily. That was what frightened him. He knew much too well the strength of it. And then as the scene goes on he says - “Nothing will harm ye while there is breath in my body, a nighean donn. Nothing.” “I know. "

Thank you, @lady-o-ren, for such astute observations! xo

[gotham-ruaidh]

dafuq u just say?

[gotham-ruaidh]

@fraserstanclub I LOVE THIS GIFSET AND I LOVE THIS PARALLEL AND I LOVE YOU!

"It's a letter from Claire. She's with Sandringham." "Vir meus. My husband. She wants you." Jamie Fraser -> receiving coded letters from Claire in captivity Outlander 2x11 | 7x01 ↳ Requested by @gotham-ruaidh 💜

[gotham-ruaidh]

anyone else get adorable old marrit couple vibes here?

[gotham-ruaidh]

Had Jamie's path in life diverged - would he have become a Tom Christie?

Had he never had Claire in his life - or had she never come back to him...

Had he never had the opportunity to be a laird, as he was meant to be...

Had he not been able to establish himself securely in the world, or had he been arrested and imprisoned for much longer...

Would he too have no name that carries any weight in the world? A broken family? No clan of his own?

Or worse - had he watched her marry another man, and then watched her be happy with that other man, while he struggled to find happiness of his own...

I think, very much so.

Jamie sees himself in Tom - what could have been, had he not had Claire in his life.

So that's why he can't begrudge Tom for his love of Claire. Why he is honored by the sacrifice Tom is willing to make.

[gotham-ruaidh]

love how Claire is all like, Imma do anything for the governor's wife I promise I swear to God and as soon as Jamie and Tom hatch a plan to bust her out she's like, I'm outta here kthanxbai honey good luck

[gotham-ruaidh]

🥰😍🤩💞😭🔥💕

r e s t n o w , m o c h r i d h e

[requested by @gotham-ruaidh 💜]

[gotham-ruaidh]

No way I was the only one who laughed at The Merry Cock:

[gotham-ruaidh]

Reblogging in light of 07x01!

What do think about Tom and Claire? Sometimes it feels as really loves her and other times it feels as if he is chasing his wife's ghost.

I think it’s a mix of both, anon. 

You are very astute to observe the second point. On the one hand, I think he gets a thrill from doing something so forbidden as to fall in love with the laird’s wife. Given his very strict and almost puritanical upbringing, this is about as far over the line that he can stray.

On the other hand, he enjoys the power that it gives him. Time and time again Jamie - or Claire - references how Tom Christie didn’t actually fight, or spill any blood, during the Rising - he was an educated man from Edinburgh, who supported the Prince through clerical work. Being in Ardsmuir - and later, being surrounded by Jacobites and the Ardsmuir men on Fraser’s Ridge - makes him the odd man out. He is surrounded by people who aren’t like him, and who to a certain extent resent him for so stubbornly clinging to his ways.

He loves Claire because she’s so strong and brash and unique - which are the exact same reasons why Jamie fell in love with her. Tom isn’t stupid - he feels drawn under her spell. Now, Jamie knows Claire is a human, but he also knows she’s supernatural; Tom, on the other hand, sees her almost as a supernatural temptress, who uses strange potions to heal people and who refuses to wear a sober cap to cover her hair.

Claire Fraser is an enigma that Tom Christie can’t figure out. In that respect, he’s exactly like Jamie was, when they first met.

Makes you wonder how things would have been, had Tom been in the picture from the very beginning.

[gotham-ruaidh]

Reblogging for the evening crowd!!

well-lived; a 7x01 story

By all rights, Claire should have slept like the dead. And she had, for a time – from pure physical and emotional exhaustion.

But now it was deep in the quiet night. Jamie had left the single candle burning on her bedside table, and the window across the room cracked open an inch, canvas curtains swaying gently in the breeze. Not a sound from the streets below.

When she stood up, he didn’t shift beside her. Asleep yet not fully asleep. For he – she – they – could not fully rest until back in their own home, their own bed, the fresh clean air of the mountains all around them.

Jamie had never understood her need to wash so regularly. To the extent that a sound scrubbing of his face and hands were the price of admission to bed, he complied. But now, as she gently undid the buttons of her shirt and slid out of her skirt, she knew he’d understand her need to cleanse.

Softly she folded her sweaty clothes on the bed. Padded across the room, blissfully naked, to the pitcher and basin left by the innkeeper’s wife. Set down the candle on the edge of the dresser. Quietly poured into the basin, and reached for the cloth beside it. Dabbed it in the water, and then all over her neck and face and shoulders.

Jamie had been somewhere that night, while she slept – that much she knew. His breeches and waistcoat sat neatly folded on the chair beside the dresser; she knew his dirk was beneath his pillow. Where he had been, who he had been with, what he had done…what he was planning for the Browns, when they returned home…he would tell her, when the time was right. Honesty has room for secrets, but not for lies.

She pressed the damp cloth against her forehead, and sighed. A long, shaky exhale.

She was alive. She was whole. And her man had come.

The man whose eyes she felt now, from across the room.

She turned – he had propped up on one elbow, eyes shining in the dark. Savoring her.

Electric.

“Come,” she whispered.

And he was there, pulling his shirt over his head in that boyish way that still made her smile. Standing perpendicular to her, his navel pressed into her hip, his hands warm and steady as he took the damp cloth from her.

Kissing every inch of skin he cleaned.

Lingering in the soft spot on the side of her neck. Nose buried beneath her jaw, hands locked tight around her hip, anchoring her to him as he kissed and sucked the sensitive skin.

Her stomach quivered.

“I dreamed you were hangit.” His whisper was so hoarse. “That you were all alone, and I couldna save you.” A small bite, in the shelter of her neck. “Right here. Your beautiful skin.”

Her hand skimmed his arm, thumb rubbing the soft spot inside his elbow. “I’m here,” she breathed. “Can’t you feel my heart?”

He made a sound – half sob. His eyelashes fluttered against her cheek. “You are my heart.”

She turned her head – his eyes were wild, scared, frantic.

She rested her thumb on his cheek, cradling his face. “Sshh.”

“You know there isnae anything I wouldna do for you, Claire?”

Now she shifted her body. Standing belly to belly, her bare feet tucked between his. “Hush. Of course I know.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed. “All the things I’ve done, or let be done…”

She interrupted him with a kiss. Slow, a surprise.

Heat bloomed.

He dropped the cloth. Picked her up, her legs twining around his waist.

“Uxor mea,” he gasped.

[contemplatingenjoyingoutlander]

Although Jamie's motives are usually good, he IS unfortunately also a "violent man." So what he says about himself at the end of episode 701 is true.

Even Master Raymond seemed to realize that at his core, Jamie is "the red man."

As Diana Gabaldon said, the red aura that surrounds Jamie signifies that he is one of the “born warriors.” And a warrior is nothing if not violent.

Although I like your overall take @gotham-ruaidh on this last scene of episode 701, I just want to stress that Jamie has good in him, whether or not Claire is in his life. But I agree that Claire brings out the best in Jamie.

The reality is that Jamie is a very complicated character. I gave up long ago trying to come to grips with his moral ambiguity, because it would be hard to justify many of his actions if he were a real person--especially by today's standards of morality.

But to make an analogy, let's imagine if Jamie were living today, in a poor country run by a despot. Given his fictional history of making and selling illegal liquor, Jamie would be perhaps a "Robin Hood" type of "drug lord." As a drug lord with a bit of a moral compass, Jamie would set aside much of the profit from his drug sales to help others in his impoverished community. Jamie would also perhaps be a drug lord who sometimes clandestinely joins with the rebel forces fighting his country's repressive regime. 

We could all sympathize with such a drug lord--if we ignored the pain of addiction he feeds through his drug sales. But we would have a harder time excusing such a drug lord when he orders (or personally carries out) “hits” against people who hurt his family and friends. We might understand his desire to protect them, but we couldn’t approve of the murders.

So, I prefer to just think of Jamie as a fictional, romantic character, whose behavior I choose to excuse because I love him. Only as a fictional character can I accept that one huge part of him is “Red Jamie"--a part of Jamie that when angered is indeed a “violent.”

redemption

"Any goodness that prevails in me is because of my wife" - Jamie to Lionel Brown, 07x01 "A Life Well Lost"

--

The final scene in 07x01 "A Life Well Lost" shows us who Jamie thinks he is - a vengeful, violent man.

But - but - we know he isn't. Because he has Claire in his life. He did her a service by marrying her, to keep her safe - sacrificing himself in the process (and many times, subsequently). He can be selfish at times, but is selfless when it comes to her.

She brings out the good in him, because she IS the good in him. She is a gift from God in his life. Loving her - always putting her first - is his absolution from God for the dozens and dozens of sins he has committed for her sake, and for the sake of the ones he loves.

Claire is Jamie's redemption.

And he knows it.

-----------------------------------------------

“They are dead because of me, Sassenach. And because of their own wickedness. If there is guilt, let it rest upon them. Or on me.” “Not on you alone,” I said, my eyes still closed…“You’re blood of my blood, bone of my bone. You said so. What you do rests on me, as well.” “Then may your vow redeem me,” he whispered.

– A Breath of Snow and Ashes

----

"I will find you," he whispered in my ear. "I promise. If I must endure two hundred years of purgatory, two hundred years without you—then that is my punishment, which I have earned for my crimes. For I have lied, and killed, and stolen; betrayed and broken trust. But there is the one thing that shall lie in the balance. When I shall stand before God, I shall have one thing to say, to weigh against the rest."

His voice dropped, nearly to a whisper, and his arms tightened around me.

"Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, and God! I loved her well."

-- Dragonfly in Amber