#tales from frasers ridge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sablelab · 4 years ago

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👻 Spooky meets Kooky 🎃

SUMMARY: Claire reminisces about the time when she first came to Scotland and fell through the stones on the eve of Samhain. Jamie tells her a story his da told them as bairns, and Claire recaps her favourite Halloween memory from the future which has James Fraser all engrossed in more ways than one.

A spoof of when the past meets the future. Retelling parts of Chapter 1, pp 22-25 from Drums of Autumn, inspired by Halloween with the Addams Family and Vera Adxer’s artwork above.

AO3

PART 1 … The Tale of the Tannasg 👻

It was nearing to Halloween time on Fraser’s Ridge, and as the Frasers prepared for a night beside the fire, Claire was reminiscing about times gone by on that fateful night that was to become her destiny.

“Jamie, Halloween, the spookiest night of the year, is almost upon us.”

“Don’t ye mean Samhain Sassenach?” he replied cheekily knowing that the two were indeed similar celebrations centuries apart.

“I do, but I was just thinking about the first time that Frank and I came to Inverness all those years ago … I remember it was on the eve of Samhain.”

She continued to tell Jamie the conversation they’d had in Mrs Baird’s Bed and Breakfast not realizing that her husband’s mind was elsewhere. “I can still recall what she said …”

“Well, you've picked a bonny time to be here. Just nigh on Samhain.”

“I take it that's Gaelic for "Halloween?”

“Well, Halloween is derived from Samhain. You're both welcome at the festival, of course.”

“Of course, what would Halloween, Samhain, be without a good ghost story?”

“Oh, and we have those, for sure. I hope you'll join us for Samhain tomorrow night.”

“What, the pagan festival?”

“Aye. There’s a circle of standing stones on the hill just outside the village, and there's a local group who still observe rituals there. It’s a place called Craigh na Dun and according to local folklore, the stones were carried there from Africa by a race of Celtic giants …”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hmmph! Not Frank …” Jamie mumbled under his breath tapping his fingers against his thigh in dislike.

The mention of Frank Randall’s name only brought back his feelings towards the man he had sent his Claire back to on the eve of Culloden knowing that he would surely die on the battlefield. His emotions were still raw about this man even after all these years and their conversation about him and their daughter Brianna echoed in his head as Claire was still speaking.

“I hadna thought ever to be so jealous of a dead man. I shouldna have thought it possible.”

“Of a dead man? Of Frank?”

“Who else? I have been worm-eaten wi’ it, all these days of riding. I see his face in my mind, waking and sleeping. Ye did say he looked like Jack Randall, no?”

“How? How could you think of such a thing?”

“How could I not? Ye heard her, Claire; ye ken well what she said to me!”

“Brianna?”

“She said she would gladly see me in hell, and sell her own soul to have her father back—her real father. I keep thinking he would not have made such a mistake. He would have trusted her; he would have known that she … I keep thinking that Frank Randall was a better man than I am. She thinks so. I thought … perhaps ye felt the same, Sassenach.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser …!” Claire remonstrated noticing that her husband seemed a little distracted, “… Are you listening to me?”

“Aye, I am Sassenach,” he replied sheepishly knowing that his mind had indeed been elsewhere. “I’m intrigued about that night in Inverness, and what happen to ye before ye fell through the stones.” Jamie looked at his wife and gave her his full attention to what she might say next.

“Do you know that if I hadn’t gone to see the Druids that night, and returned in the morning to collect the Forget-me-nots, that I may not have ever gone through the stones and found you.”

“We were fated mo ghràidh. Ye would have found yer way to the stones regardless because I was waiting for ye on the other side. I thank the day, Murtagh brought ye to me at the cabin.” He leaned towards his love and clasping her hand brought it to his lips placing a tender kiss to the top of her hand and knuckles.

Claire blushed at her love’s romantic gesture and looking at him explained about that night so long ago. “I remember seeing those Druids dancing. They were mesmerizing Jamie twirling in circles on top of the hill with their burning tapers. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled at the sight of them, but some small voice inside warned me I wasn't supposed to be there. That I was an unwelcome voyeur to something ancient and powerful.”

“Aye, ye were Sassenach, but that is the mystery of Samhain. It is all about the supernatural, witches, spirits and fire. During the celebrations, people dance around bonfires while the dances tell stories of life and death. What ye saw that night was something magical that drew you tae me.”

“I wouldn’t change anything Jamie except for you sending me back on the eve of Culloden, but we found each other again and that is all that counts.”

“Aye. You belong wi' me. We're mated for life Sassenach. I barley lived for those twenty years wi'out a heart when ye were gone. I lived half a man and accustomed myself to live in the bit that was left. Did ye feel the same?”

“Yes, I knew how that felt, and had it not been for Brianna I don’t know how I would have survived too. But I had you always close because our daughter was so like you Jamie. Your carved initial in the flesh of my palm was also a constant reminder of our love. It gave me comfort whenever I touched it. When I closed my eyes, I could feel you touching me.”

Claire looked at the man she adored thankful every day that they had been reunited and that their two-decade separation had been both painful and heart breaking for each of them. “It was lonely without you, so lonely.”

“And me,” Jamie replied pensively, his voice a soft whisper. “I saw ye so many times. You came to me so often. When I dreamed sometimes. When I lay in fever. When I was so afraid and so lonely, I knew I must die. When I needed you, I would always see ye, smiling, wi’ yer hair curling up about your face.” He paused before an outpouring of emotion surfaced. “During that time apart, I prayed every day that you and our bairn would be safe, for whether I’m dead or you, whether we’re together or apart Claire, I will always love ye.”

“And I you, Jamie.”

“Samhain was the beginning of our destiny Sassenach. A pagan, Gaelic festival brought us together.” He kissed her palm and rested it on his heart.

Claire could feel his heart beating and her eyes misted over just thinking about the significance of this special time of the year. “All I know of Samhain is what Mrs Baird told us. Please tell me more Jamie.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Samhain is a three-day celebration in preparation for winter mo ghràidh and a time for kin all around the Highlands tae come together and feast. People believe that deceased spirits and faeries of the Otherworld can easily come into our world, so ye would honour the dead and implore loved ones to bestow some blessing on them in return. Offerings of food and drink are left outside for the spirits, even portions of crops are left in the ground for them.”

Claire listened, attentive to everything that Jamie was telling her.

“Tricks and pranks are played but blamed on faeries and spirits ye ken. Children disguise themselves as evil spirits by blackening their faces and dressing in auld clothes to go guising door-to-door reciting songs and verses in exchange for food.”

“Why do they blacken their faces?”

“’Twas so that they can venture out safely wi’out being detected by wicked spirits in hope of fooling them and to scare away the ghouls who might want tae harm them.”

“It is so like what happens at Halloween in the future too Jamie. A lot of Scots came to America in the 20th Century and brought these customs with them and they evolved to become extremely popular. There are many similarities to Samhain but also some differences too. In the future people dress up in masks and spooky costumes and the children go Trick or Treating for sweets.”

“Aye, it would seem so mo nighean donn. Samhain and Halloween do seem verra similar.”

“Mrs Baird said that you needed to be mindful for ghosts are freed on the feast days and wander about, free to do good or ill as they please.”

“’Tis true Sassenach. I myself have not seen a tannasg, but there are tales of others who have.”

“A tannasg? What, in Heaven’s name is that, Jamie?”

“Oh, a Dhia … where tae begin,” he exclaimed running his hand over his chin in thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taking a deep breath as if calming himself before he started to explain, Jamie picked up his cup of ale and took a big swig before beginning. He looked at Claire as she waited for his explanation.

“Some say a tannasg is a balding, six-foot-tall, hairy, Celtic beastie, normally only found wandering around the hills and glens at night. Some say it is eerily like a fogy mist that covers the moors on a dark night and is what ye may call an apparition, a spirit or a shadowy ghost figure. Nobody really kens what it is but, nae matter, a tannasg is verra scary and if you come upon one when out in the glens ye must be verra careful. Sometimes it’s an unfriendly faerie or nymph who may have been holding onto a grudge and means tae cause trouble. A tannasg would put the fear of the Almighty in ye and scare ye witless. If ye ever were to meet one it would make yer hair stand up like a man’s cock in the mornin’ Sassenach.”

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ! I’m scared with just the description of one.”

“And so ye should be a leannan. They are verra scary beasties that ye wouldna want to meet.”

“Oh, I do love hearing a scary ghost story Jamie. Can you tell me any about tannasgs?”

Claire watched as his lip curved up into a smile. He had that twinkle in his eyes that she knew so well whenever he was going to tell a story.

“Aye, I will. Sit yerself down by the fire and I’ll tell ye one that ma da told us wee bairns that scairt us truly.”

Settling down more comfortably in her chair, she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and waited for her husband to retell the tale told to him, his brother William and sister Jenny long, long ago.

“I can tell ye a frightfully spooky tale of the past. It’s a spine-chilling story guaranteed tae give you a good thrill and chill ye to the bones.”

“I think I best have a wee dram of whisky ready for the story you are about to tell then James Fraser.”

“Aye …” He picked up his cup of ale and they both took a wee sip of their drinks. “Sláinte. Are ye ready Sassenach?”

“I am.” Claire curled her feet up in the chair whilst Jamie began to tell the tale of the tannasg.

“My father loved telling this story.”

She watched as a muted glow descended over Jamie’s face as the light from the fire fell across his features and highlighted the animation she could see on his face and in his eyes. Claire looked at him waiting with bated breath ready for him to retell this tale, for she knew that she was going to enjoy this story very much indeed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Tis the story of a man who was afraid of being alone in the dark and most mortally scairt of the spirits, ye ken, and how one night he met a tannasg. I remember when my da first told this story. I was mortally scairt too Sassenach.”

His body shuddered a little despite the heat in the room at the thought of the untold story he would tell. “I kept awake half the night, after he told us this tale, though it dinna seem to bother Jenny that much.”

“Oh, my,” Claire uttered her voice eager to hear more. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, her eyes round with the wonder and intrigue that he would impart with his tale as Jamie began to recount his childhood story.

Settling himself in his seat by the fire, he sat back, his ale cup in hand. Thinking, he rubbed his hand across his chin collecting his thoughts. Jamie then smiled at his wife wryly glancing at her as he began to recount his tale of long ago.

“Ah, well, it was in the late, cold autumn in the Highlands, just when the season turns and the chill in the air tells ye the ground will be covered wi’ frost come morning.”

Rolling the pewter cup slowly between his hands, he stared down into the dark ale as though seeing those Scottish peaks in the pitch-black night and the mist that floated across the glens. Raising his eyes, he looked at Claire. She was hanging on each word and so he continued.

“Well Jock MacBride’s son brought back their kine from the glen that night, but there was one wee beast missing. The lad had hunted for it up the hills and down the dales but couldna find it anywhere, so his da sent the lad to milk the two others and set out himself tae look for the lost cow.”

“Go on …”

“The da went some distance, but his cottage behind him soon disappeared. When he looked back, he couldna see the light from the window anymore and there was no sound but the whistling of the wind. It was cold, but MacBride went on trapsing through the mud and heather as the ice crunched beneath his boots echoing in the stillness.”

Claire pulled her shawl around her shoulders. If her husband could see her eyes, he would have seen that her pupils were decidedly larger. She was so engrossed with his story thus far and took another wee sip of her drink. With eyes fixed on Jamie, she couldn’t wait to hear more of his tale.

“Soon up ahead of him, Jock saw a small grove through the mist and thinking the cow might have taken shelter beneath the trees, he went toward it. However, the trees were birches, standing there with nae a leaf, and with their branches all gnarled together, so he bent his head to squeeze beneath the boughs.”

“What did he see when he got through the branches Jamie?”

“He came into the grove Sassenach, and saw it was not a grove at all, but a circle of trees. There were great tall trees, spaced verra evenly all around him and smaller ones too wi’ saplings grown up in between the trees to make a wall of thick branches. In the centre of the circle stood a cairn.”

Claire felt as though a sliver of cold ice had just slid down her spine. She got chills listening to him and shivered imagining the scene, for his picture was very real in her mind. She had seen ancient cairns in the Highlands herself that Jamie had just described and found them eerie enough in the broad light of day, let alone to see one at night. That would have been quite spooky indeed.

Jamie was getting that gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach he remembered feeling as a bairn when his father had told this tale. He looked over at Claire and she had an expression of foreboding for what he may say next on her face that he’d had too. He took a sip of ale to loosen his vocal cords for his mouth was dry before continuing.

“He felt quite queer did Jock MacBride, for he kent the place, everyone did and kept well away from it. It was strange and it seemed even worse in the dark and the cold than it did in the daylight. It was an auld cairn the kind laid wi’ chunks of rock all heaped round with stones. He was scairt, but he slowly glanced up, and saw before him the black opening of a tomb.”

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ! Was there a tannasg in there?”

Her husband gave her a piercing look. Jamie knew that Claire’s mind was thinking ahead and knew that he was getting close to revealing what Jock had seen.

“He knew it was a place that no man should come, and he was without a powerful charm to ward off any spirits. Jock had naught but a wooden cross about his neck, so he crossed himself with it and turned tae go.”

Jamie paused to take another sip of his ale to catch his breath. Claire saw his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed and reached instinctively for her own cup with eyes fixed on her beloved. Holding her breath, she gasped, “Don’t stop there. What happened next?”

Giving her the semblance of a wink and a wry grin, he paused then spoke softly stating, “As Jock went from the grove … he heard footsteps behind him.”

“No…!” she exclaimed.

“He dinna turn to see, but kept walking and the steps kept pace wi’ him, step by step always following. Jock came through the peat where the water seeps up and it was covered with ice, the weather bein’ so cold ye ken. MacBride could hear the peat crunch under his feet and behind him the cr-ack! cr-ack! of the breaking ice.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

James Fraser was a natural born storyteller, animated and engaging like most Scots were and listening to him speak reminded Claire of their wedding night and the awkwardness between them. She remembered him saying, “You’re a Fraser now Sassenach. You must learn to tell a story and listen to one.” So, to put her at ease, he’d told her story after story of his family and his life growing up and she in turn had told him about her life too. Her husband was in his element telling this story just like on the night they wed. She knew, that Jamie was aware that she hung on his every word and was eager to hear the rest of the story. The tension was building and placing her legs to the floor, Claire removed her shawl as it was getting warmer in the room and leaned forward eager to hear more of his tale.

“Jock MacBride walked and walked through the cold dark night watching ahead for the light of his own window where his wife had set the candle. But the light never showed and he began tae fear he had lost his way among the heather and the dark hills.”

“The tassasg was following him?”

“Aye, he was Sassenach. All the time the steps kept pace with him echoing loud in his ears. At last Jock could bear it no more and seizing hold of the cross he wore round his neck he swung about wi’ a great cry tae face whatever followed.”

There was apprehension in her voice for poor Jock. “What did he see?”

Jamie glanced at Claire and when next he spoke, his voice was so quiet, almost like a whisper, that she needed to concentrate to hear what he was saying.

“It was a figure like a man, but with no body. It was all white like it might have been made of the mist, but wi’ great holes where its eyes should be. They were black and empty and fit tae draw the soul from MacBride’s body with fear.”

Claire gasped with a cry of anguish at the description, and placed her hand across her mouth. “What did he do Jamie?

“Jock held up his cross before his face and he prayed aloud to the Blessed Virgin,” he said leaning forward intently. “The thing came no nearer Claire, but stayed there watching him.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The dim firelight outlined her husband’s profile in a halo of golden aura which made his rustic hair seem like it had flecks of gold and crimson sprinkled in it as well. Suddenly, she was a little distracted by the man and was mesmerized by his intoxicating Scottish drawl. Claire’s eyes glazed over overcome with feelings for the virile man whose silhouette was oh so tempting in the fire’s glow, but also for poor Jock MacBride and how he would get out of his predicament. She held her breath and waited for what would happen next.

“And so, he began to walk backwards not daring to turn around again. Jock walked backward stumbling and slipping in an effort to get away from the spirit, fearing every moment that he might tumble into a burn or down a cliff and break his neck, but fearing worse tae turn his back on the cold thing.”

“I would have done the same Jamie. Better to watch the tannasg than not to know where it was,” she added with a little shiver of dread for the poor Jock MacBride.

“He couldna tell how long he’d walked only that his legs were trembling wi’ weariness. Then at last he caught a glimpse of a light through the mist, for there was his own cottage wi’ the candle in the window. Jock cried out in joy and turned to his door, but the cold thing was quick and slipit past him tae stand between him and the door.”

“Oh no!”

“Dinna fash Sassenach, his wife had been watching out for him and when she heard him cry out, she came to the door at once. Jock shouted to her not to come out but to go and fetch a charm to drive away the tannasg. Quick as could be, Bessie MacBride snatched the pot from beneath her bed and a twig of myrtle tied with ribbons that she’d made to bless the cows. She dashed the water against the doorposts and the cold thing leapt upward straddlin’ the door’s beam. Her husband quick as a flash, rushed beneath and bolted the door shut tight. He stayed inside in his wife’s arms until the dawn hoping that the tannasg would nae come inside the cottage. They let the candle burn all the night and Jock never again left his house past sunset.”

Claire sighed as Jamie finished speaking. “Did they find the cow?” she queried, keen to know the fate of the lost kine.

With a raised eyebrow he answered, “Oh, aye they did. The next morning, they found the poor beast wi’ her hooves all clogged wi’ mud and stones. It was staring mad and frothy about the muzzle. Her sides were heavin’ fit to burst. Jock said that she looked as though she’d been ridden tae Hell and back.”

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!” Claire exclaimed imagining the visual of what had happened to the poor cow.

Jamie glanced at his wife to see her reaction to his tale. “Did ye like it?”

“Like it? … I loved it Jamie. It kept me in suspense all the way through.”

“Thank ye Sassenach. I’m glad ye liked it,” he replied very pleased with himself.

PART 2 … Halloween Addams Family style. 🎃

“So, what about you Claire? Do ye have a tale tae tell as well?”

“As a matter of fact, I do Jamie, and when I’ve caught my breath, I will tell you something about Halloween from the future. My tale will not be as scary as your story of Jock MacBride though,” she replied with a cheeky twinkle in her eye. “In fact, it is about something that you might find hard to wrap your head around.”

Intrigued with his wife’s words, Jamie sat back in his chair and waited for her to begin. With a curl of his lip and a sparkle in his eye he asked, “And what might that be Sassenach?”

“Television.”

His brow furrowed in thought and Jamie raised an eyebrow a little perplexed as he glanced at Claire. “Television? … Hmmph?” He tapped his fingers against his thigh in concentration and ran the word slowly over his tongue as if savouring a new morsel of information, he didn’t quite know enough about. “Television ye say.” He looked at Claire again in earnest anticipation and waited for her to explain.

“Oh dear…” she sighed. “Where to begin?” Collecting her thoughts on how to explain this invention to her husband, Claire finally had an idea. “Remember when you rescued me from the Witch Trial and I told you I was from the future?”

“Aye, I remember mo ghràidh.”

“Well this is another one of those things from the future too. It is something from my time. You've never heard of it. No one here has, that is except for Bree and Roger.”

He grinned at her statement of the obvious. “Well then, I may not understand it a bit, not yet, but I trust ye. I trust yer word; yer heart and there is a truth between us. So ... whatever you tell me ... I will believe ye, Sassenach. Tell me more.”

Claire bit her lip before she spoke. “Do you also remember the photographs I brought back to show you of Brianna?”

Jamie made a small inarticulate sound, “Aye I remember.”

He remembered all too well Claire taking a small packet from her clothing, to show him the photographs of their beloved daughter Brianna, a fine boned, and delicate replica of himself. He looked up at his wife wondering what the correlation may be with the photographs and this television.

“Well television is those pictures brought to life.”

He remembered how he had splayed his hand out over the photographs, with trembling fingers not quite touching the shiny surface. How was it possible that pictures could be brought to life? He was a little perplexed.

“Television is a machine with a small screen that shows moving pictures and sounds. They were commonplace in many households in Boston during the 60’s and we had one too. The word "television" comes from the words …”

But before she could finish what she wanted to say Jamie butted in with his knowledge of the Greek language.

“Tele is the Greek word for far away, and vision would mean sight.”

A smile softened her lips, “Yes, that’s right.”

He shook his head in disbelief when Claire described something so unfathomable that it was hard to believe some such machine existed. He didn't understand it all, but he listened. Claire had risked bringing the photographs of Brianna through the stones and thus brought something of the 20th century into the 18th century. However, although still a little mystified, nothing she had told him about the future fazed him now and he believed her despite how inconceivable what she was saying could be.

“Television was used for family entertainment and we would sit around in our parlour and watch the screen.” Claire’s voice was animated when she next spoke. “There was a program on the television that you would have loved Jamie, called The Addams Family. Brianna and I loved that show.”

He grinned. “I would verra much have liked to see this television program too Sassenach.” If they loved it, he knew he would love it too.

“They were not your typical family; they took delight in most of the things of which normal people would be terrified. They were kooky and eccentric but they were a very close-knit, extended family.”

“Ah, so just like us here on Fraser’s Ridge Sassenach,” he replied giving her a huge, big smile.

“Yes, I guess, but there was one difference though Jamie, they had decidedly macabre interests and supernatural abilities.”

He balked at that. “Oh, indeed they wouldna fit in well in this time then. People believe in witches and things that go bump in the night, but they wouldna understand them at all. They would have their heads on a pike before ye could count tae ten.”

Although Claire nodded in agreement at what her husband was saying for that was exactly what had happened to her. As he spoke, she was momentarily distracted with thoughts of what had happened in Cranesmuir at the Witch Trial when she was tried and convicted of witchcraft.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

People’s superstitions of anything they didn’t quite understand, especially a person like her was met with fear for they thought her a witch. At the trial, the crowd was baying for blood and wanted to burn her at the stake, and had Jamie not rescued her, that would have been her fate. Nonetheless, he was a little skeptical as well because he’d seen the “devil’s mark” on her arm too. He had calmly asked if she was a witch, because what she had told him was far-fetched. His face throughout her admission was inscrutable and he’d sighed, then smiled ruefully down at her. She remembered their conversation well,

“Claire, are ye a witch?”

“I’m not a witch. Do you really believe me, Jamie?”

“Aye, I believe ye, Sassenach. But it would ha’ been a good deal easier if you’d only been a witch.”

“And if I were? If you had thought I were a witch? Would you still have fought for me?”

“I would have gone to the stake with you, and to hell beyond, if I must!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Claire? … Claire?” Jamie said a little louder as she had been quiet for so long that he was a little concerned for where her mind must have gone, but on reflection it was probably to the Witch Trial when he’d rescued her and she had told him she was from the future.

“Oh, I’m sorry Jamie, I lost my train of thought there for a moment.”

“Nae matter … So, mo chridhe, ye were saying?”

Claire let her husband’s endearment wash over her. Jamie was always so attuned to her feelings and giving him a tentative smile, continued to explain about the Addams family members. “Their mother and uncle lived with them and their children, plus they had a 7-foot-tall butler … their man servant called Lurch, and a disembodied hand that lived in a box called Thing.”

Jamie shook his head, as what Claire was saying was becoming more fanciful, but he kept an open mind as she described more.

“The husband, Gomez Addams was an extremely wealthy man and was able to indulge his wife Morticia's every desire, whether it was cultivation of poisonous plants or a candlelit dinner in a graveyard.”

He raised his eyebrow again at this piece of information. “That sounds verra interesting,” he murmured somewhat amazed.

Claire smiled indulgently at her love. “You are very much like him. He was very romantic and he was madly in love with his wife and loved her to distraction.”

“As do I you, mo ghràidh,” before adding, “I think I should like this Gomez fellow.”

She beamed at him once more as Jamie seemed pleased as punch at what he had just said.

He then blessed himself. “A Dhia! But … I willna have dinner wi’ ye in a graveyard, mo luaidh even wi’ candlelight,” he muttered under his breath. He chuckled at the thought of that idea, especially after having just told her the story of the tannasg who had come out of his tomb. No, he could not come at doing that.

“I agree. I don’t think I would like to do that either, but Gomez and Morticia did. They also had pet names for each other, Jamie.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

His ears pricked up once more when she said this, knowing that his Claire had several endearing names that he called her. He sighed his voice a little raspy, “Aye, I do that too Sassenach.”

Her smile was soft and dreamy for the loving man she had married, then she told him some extra information. “Despite what I have just said, this television show was very entertaining and so amusing. It had unconventional humour, sex appeal, the breaking and questioning of the conventions of conformity at the time, as well as looking at the world in a unique, offbeat frame of mind.”

“Well then, tell me more mo muirninn. I am an educated man as ye ken, and I can see that perhaps these Addams people were different but nae different from our family. Do they have something tae do wi’ Halloween then?”

“Oh indeed. Halloween was their favourite time of the year and they would bob for crabs instead of apples as most people would do. You see, they were not a conventional family. They dressed differently to everyone else, they were weird looking and they had peculiar idiosyncrasies. They even lived near a cemetery at 0001 Cemetery Lane in an ornate, gloomy mansion.”

Jamie poured himself a whisky this time and laughed as her descriptions of this family were getting more and more unusual. He refilled Claire’s cup as well and handed it to her, then sat back in his chair to hear more.

“Oh, Jamie I wish that you could have seen it. You would have loved all the characters but particularly Gomez Addams. Bree and I would laugh so much. They were so funny.”

Claire paused a little as if thinking about something she remembered then looking at her husband with a mischievous expression on her face asked, “Jamie? Can you click your fingers? Like this?” She then demonstrated a click! click! sound.

“I may not be able tae wink, but I can click my fingers ye ken Sassenach.”

She began to set the scene for her tale of the Addams Family. “Well then … Every time I say … da-da-da-da … you click your fingers okay?”

“Okay, I can do that mo nighean donn.”

“I will sing you the theme song that would play when the television show came on screen but I’m going to replace their family name with ours, however, … the da-da-da-da was really played on a harpsichord, but I’m going to improvise.”

Claire grinned at her love and saw that Jamie was prepared and a little excited to know more of the Halloween tale she was about to unleash on him. “Are ye ready?”

“Always.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!

“Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da” … click! click

Claire repeated the chorus … as Jamie was thoroughly enjoying himself while getting into the swing of things with gusto.

“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!

“Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da” … click! click

“They're creepy and they're kooky. Mysterious and spooky. They're altogether together ookey. The Fraser Family.

The house is a museum. When people come to see 'em. They really are a scre-am. The Fraser Family.

“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!

Neat

“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!

Sweet

“Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da” … click! click

Petite

So, get a witch's shawl on. A broomstick you can crawl on. We're going to pay a call on. The Fraser Family.

They both fell back against their chairs laughing out loud as Claire finished the theme song and Jamie clicked the refrain part with enthusiasm.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I see what ye meant earlier Sassenach, so, tell me more about the husband Gomez and his wife Morticia.”

“Gomez was the patriarch of the family, just like you Jamie. He was a very dashing man who loved to wear pinstriped suits.”

She saw his puzzled look and explained. “Clothing was very different in the 60’s to what it is now, but he was as dashing as you were in Paris. Suits are a two-piece garment, long breeks and a jacket cut to the hip, made from the same material and worn together. Gomez Addams smoked cigars and had a very quirky moustache. I’ll ask Brianna to draw you some pictures of the family if you like.”

Jamie nodded in reply to her statement for he loved the drawings Brianna did, and although he could picture them in his imagination, seeing a picture of the family would make them really come to life.

Claire knew that her husband would relish this next piece of information. “He adored Morticia and would call her Cara Mia, Querida, Querida Mia, Tish, or Cara Bella.”

“Hmmph? … Querida is Spanish for "the woman I desire.” I can relate tae that Sassenach,” Jamie replied with a sharp look that made her heart skip a little beat. “I see now why ye think we are alike,” he proclaimed with a penetrating gleam in his eye. “And his wife?”

“She was very beautiful with long flowing, straight, raven coloured hair. Morticia was described as a witch; she was slim, with extremely pale skin.”

“A witch ye say? … a Dhia Claire! … It’s just like people called you because of yer healing powers. I am seeing more parallels here … Querida,” he added in that sexy voice that always thrilled her.

Claire nearly lost her train of thought when her husband called her Querida and she bit her lip in response to the endearment once more. “Stop interrupting me James Fraser, I’m trying to tell you my Halloween story.”

“Duilich … Sorry Sassenach, but I am just imagining the things ye are saying just like you saw on the … television. Tell me more about this Morticia Addams.”

“Her black dress matched her hair and it was skin tight and figure hugging with a fringe of octopus-like cloth "tentacles" at the lower hem that pooled around her feet.”

“That’s quite an outfit you have on there lady?” one of the robbers said to her Jamie.

“I always wear this for Halloween.”

“Looks great. Real good for Halloween,” he replied thinking that she was wearing a costume but it was her actual clothing.

“Is that so? Anything else …Tish?” Jamie grinned cheekily doing a mental checklist of the romantic names Gomez had called his wife.

“Morticia could easily excite her husband by speaking French and other languages. Her pet names for him were Bubula, Mon Cherie and Querido.”

“Ah, Querido, the Spanish word for "the man I desire." I like that too Claire. Ye can call me that at any time my … Cara Mia.”

She blushed a little more at another one of Morticia’s pet names her husband had called her and felt a hot flush warm her cheeks.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So, Sassenach tell me about the Halloween story ye and Brianna loved watching on yer television about the Addams Family.”

“Well Gomez received a new carving knife in the mail and used it to carve out a pumpkin with the face of his Uncle Fester on it for Halloween. They would put a candle in it to light it up at night and the face would shine through the holes in the Jack-o-lantern. This is very common in the future and people in Boston would put their carved pumpkins on their doorsteps at Halloween. It was a fun thing to do and they would also decorate their houses with ghoulish things.”

“‘Tis similar to Samhain too Claire but people use turnips. I guess a pumpkin would be easier tae carve though,” he proclaimed. “Tell me more.”

“Their children, Wednesday and Pugsley, dressed up and went trick or treating with their Grandmama for sweets and treats that they would collect from their neighbours. While they were out two robbers who were escaping from the police … took refuge in the Addams family garden. Thinking they were their Halloween guests, they were invited inside for a Halloween party but unfortunately, they tried to steal money from the family instead of enjoying their hospitality. When they saw inside their spooky house they exclaimed,

“You folks sure don’t hold back on Halloween.”

“It’s our favourite holiday.”

Then Gomez said, “Gentlemen come here and I’ll give you a treat. Open your bag. They didn’t want to show him what was in there because it had the stolen money in it.”

“What happened next Claire?” Jamie asked thinking this story of the future was a little bizarre but extremely interested in her Halloween story of a show she had watched on television.

“Now, now, there’s nothing to be scared of, I think it’s kind of heart-warming that adults get into the Halloween spirit, and when Gomez opened their bag, he found it was full of money, and he assumed that their neighbours had given them cash for a Trick or Treat. He took out several hundreds of dollars from an open drawer and gave it to them. The robbers’ eyes widened with surprise and decided to hatch a plan to steal all the money and their valuables from them.”

“Did the Addams’ ken they were planning tae steal their valuables?”

“No, they were in the kitchen getting refreshments, and whilst Morticia was stirring the punch, her husband Gomez became quite amorous towards her.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This story now was just getting more fascinating for James Fraser by the minute. He smiled at his Claire and asked a little provocatively, “Tell me more Sassenach. What did he do … in the kitchen?”

She was a little tongue tired especially with the way the man she desired was looking at her, but she ventured on regardless to how her insides were all fluttering with tingling feelings that she felt to the very core of her being. When Jamie was in this amorous mood, she was putty in his hands. How was she ever going to tell him what happened next, she thought, but she did.

“When Morticia called him “Bubula … darling” … he took her hand in both of his and kissed it before caressing each finger with his lips beginning at the little pinkie, then the ring finger, and then each other finger after that, until her whole hand had been caressed. It was something he always did.”

Jamie’s eyes were smouldering. “How did she react tae that ... Querida?” he murmured with a little raspy grunt.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “Morticia swooned at the attention her husband was giving her and replied … When we are together darling, every night is Halloween.”

Claire was starting to swoon a little herself. She was feeling a little hot and bothered, and bit her lip as Jamie’s gaze washed over her with intent, but she continued with her story. Her husband knew exactly what he was doing with the way he was looking at her, and he couldn’t be more interested in what would Gomez Addams do next. Jamie hung on each word that came out of her mouth.

“Go on … Sass-en-ach.”

Her mouth was getting a little dry, so Claire took a wee sip of her whisky to also compose herself before she went on with her tale.

“Then while his arm was around her waist, and holding out her arm, Gomez slowly ran his lips up the length of it, kissing across the back of her neck … her shoulder, then down her back and …”

“Aye? And … then what?”

“The punch exploded!”

Jamie couldn’t help himself. He was not expecting Claire to say that, and doubling over in mirth, he burst out laughing as too did she. The happy, raucous sound echoed in his throat and their combined laughter loudly resonated in the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

However, James Fraser suddenly stopped laughing.

Looking up, Claire saw the explicit intent in her husband’s eyes that always made her catch her breath. She watched; eyes fixated on her virile man as he rose from his chair and made his way over to where she was sitting. Jamie was now standing in front of her chair. He reached out his hand towards her, then placing her hand in his grasp, he slowly pulled Claire up and out of the chair until she was but a hair’s breath away from him. She could feel the solidness of her husband’s chest.

“So, mo nighean donn, what happened tae the robbers?”

“I … ahh, … I … don’t re-member,” she mumbled, tripping over her words as Jamie’s penetrating gaze held her eyes captive with a look that had her feeling quite breathless.

Claire could feel the warmth of his breath as her love quietly spoke seductively against her lips. “I see … Well then ... What were ye sayin’ about what Gomez Addams was doing tae his wife … Sass-en-ach?”

Lost in the suggestive look that Jamie was bestowing on her, Claire Fraser found it difficult to breathe let alone speak as she felt the gentle but scorching touch of lips brushing against her own.

“Ahhh … Ahhh …” she murmured incoherently. “He kissed … her hand.”

“What? … Like this?”

Placing his arm around Claire’s waist, Jamie held out her right arm and proceed to place warm, fervent kisses to the top of her hand before trailing them down to her little pinkie finger.

“Ye-yes…” she purred closing her eyes in the bliss of his seduction.

Soft, warm lips lathed the small digit before continuing on to her ring finger. His lips started at the tip of her fingernail drawing it into his mouth before releasing her finger. His tongue then skimmed up and over her knuckle to where his wedding ring, a silver band with a small thistle bloom carved in the centre of each intertwined Highland pattern, lay nestled against her skin. Jamie’s lips hovered over the ring, stopping as his eyes observed his token of love on his Sassenach's finger. Jamie hesitated for a moment, then bent his head over it, his lips barely brushing over her knuckles once more before they touched the silver ring and stopped there for one moment of remembrance.

At the same time, suddenly Claire’s thoughts returned to that day in the hospital recalling when Frank had tried to twist it off her finger and the panic that she’d felt. The guttural sound she’d made was heart wrenching and she’d jerked her hand away and cradled it, fisted, beneath her breast cupped in her left hand.

“I never took it off … mon Cherie,” she whispered, the love in her voice caressing Jamie’s ears as much as his lips had caressed her hand.

This ring was special to her and she had never taken it off even over the twenty years they had been parted. During those long, aching years of separation, it was one of her very, very few tangible reminders of Jamie. The Latin phrase that he’d engraved inside her wedding ring was a brief quotation from a love song by Catullus, and she had recited it so many, many times just thinking of her love when she closed her eyes at night.

Jamie’s lips found and touched the silver ring once more before his tongue slid from one side of the ring to the other. His ring which she wore on this finger since the day they had wed was special to him. It was his ultimate love token to the woman who had stolen his heart from the very moment he had laid eyes on her at Samhain time. This ring spoke to him and was a reaffirmation of how solid was their love and how strong their bond was.

Her eyes were closed, and Claire knew without looking, that Jamie’s were, as well.

“Da Mi Basia Mille, diende centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum …” he murmured, smiling before opening his eyes to stare piercingly at his love as he translated the Latin. “Then let amorous kisses dwell on our lips, begin and tell, a thousand and a hundred score, a hundred …”

Claire’s eyes blurred with tears. Placing her hand at the nape of Jamie’s neck, she fisted it in his glorious red hair, slowly twisting the curls between her fingers. "Dein mille altera … then give me a thousand more,” she uttered breathlessly clearing her throat.

He brushed away the tear that had trickled down her cheek with his finger, but two more welled up and overflowed; she felt them, full and round, roll down her cheeks.

This poignant romantic moment of remembrance between them was suddenly so overwhelming, that she felt her eyes well up once again. The reality of the power of their love and connection made the fictional one between Gomez Addams and his wife Morticia pale in comparison. Perhaps the show she had watched when back in the future was a reminder to her of who she missed terribly and how much she missed so achingly the sensuous kisses that her beloved husband had given her. Suddenly, she was overcome with emotion as Jamie continued to display his amorous kisses to her hand.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

However, he soon sensed that his Claire was feeling wistful.

“Cl-aire?” Jamie’s voice was gentle and his utterance of her name, spoken in tenderness, nearly made her break down again.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Are ye okay mo ghràidh? What’s the matter? Am I not doin’ this right, like Gomez Addams?”

“Oh, Jamie, … You are doing this … so much better … than he ever could my love.”

Slowly he drew her close to him, taking both hands and holding their linked fingers just under his breast to where Claire could feel his heart beating in his chest. Jamie held his love close for a quiet moment and kissed the top of her head as it lay nestled against him. Placing his finger under her chin, he lifted Claire’s face up to his, then cupping her beautiful cheeks with exquisite gentleness, he set his mouth on hers.

“I like yer Halloween story verra much mo ghràidh, in fact I like it sae much that I think we could … continue it in our bedroom. What say ye … Querida Mia?” … He kissed his wife’s cheek … “Cara Bella,” … and then her other special name … “Sor-cha,” … Jamie muttered against Claire’s lips before trailing them down her throat in an assault that had her losing consciousness in his arms.

“Per-haps … we … could …” was her garbled reply spoken against his hot mouth as she wound her arms around her husband’s neck. Her eyes glazed over with emotion for this wonderful man as she succumbed to the sweet surrender of his embrace. Jamie’s eyes too were shining with passion as he lifted Claire up into his arms and carried his love into their bedroom.

“This has been a verra good night Sassenach and one I think could be repeated each Samhain.”

“I approve … Querido,” she murmured seductively against his ear and cupping his cheek with her hand.

Touching foreheads, Jamie’s lips hovered over hers and he smiled with such a wicked look that Claire couldn’t help but smile too knowing that whatever came out of her husband’s mouth would be something profound. However, she was not expecting his reply with the phrase Morticia Addams had spoken on the television program.

“When we are together darling … every night is Halloween. Now, I want to take ye to bed, and I mean to spend the rest of the night thinking what to do to ye once I’ve got ye there.”

Then James Fraser proceeded to demonstrate the many ways that this Fraser husband showed his wife how he would seduce her every night … but twice on Samhain and Halloween.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The End

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Addams Family Theme - Vic Mizzy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZ5IWRz78DY

Halloween with the Addams family (full episode)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LavY2K3-Vhs

Endearment Translations:

Claire Fraser

mo chridhe - my heart

mo muirninn - my darling

mo luaidh - my darling, my dear.

a leannan - sweetheart, or beautiful woman

Sorcha – brightness

mo ghràidh – darling

mo nighean donn - my brown-haired lass

Morticia Addams

Cara Mia - my beloved

Cara Bella – pretty face

Querida - the woman I desire.

Querida Mia – beloved

Tish – strong willed

Gomez Addams

Bubula – sweetheart

Mon Cherie - dear heart, my dear love.

Querido - dear

#samhain #halloween #James Fraser #clairefraser #the addams family #2020 #the lallybroch library #outlander fanfic

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imagineclaireandjamie · 5 years ago

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Mod Spotlight: missclairebelle

Fiction is one of the greatest escapes when the real world gets a little crazy. With all that is going on, we wanted to share with you some of our favorite stories by Imagine mods. Look for a post with each mod’s faves over the next few days.

I am so proud to be a member of a fic community that is as robust as ours. While I know that fanfic can’t make everything better, it has always been a good escape from the real world for me, even if it’s just for a moment. Below are links to my longer contributions to the Outlander fanfic community. I hope you enjoy and stay as healthy, safe, and sane as possible.

🧡Katy

__________________

Her Royal Highness (H.R.H.) [complete]: A 1950′s era Queen Claire and her Crown Equerry chart a course for their love.

Imagine One Shots:

Lallybroch Grave (a memorial to Faith)**

Paris Portrait (Bree travels to Paris and sees a portrait of her parents)

Jamie and Bree bond over making something

4x10 missing moment – Claire shares stories about Bree and cheeseburgers with Jamie

4x06 missing moment - Quiet Moment between Jamie and Claire before John, Willie, and Murtagh show up for dinner**

An Anniversary (modern fluffy anniversary one shot)

Jamie and Newborn Jem (fluff on the Ridge)

A Mother’s Pearls, A Daughter (Jamie meets Bree, who is wearing Ellen’s pearls)

Photographs (Jamie and Claire share photographs of Bree with Fergus, Jenny, and Ian)

Newlywed Jamie and Claire visit Brian & Ellen’s grave

A Ridge Anniversary

Fantasy (Claire has a dream about Jamie in her own time)

Amputation (conversation between Claire and Bree over Jamie’s TFC snakebite)**

Birthday Present (Jamie’s first present to his daughter on the Ridge)

Purple Beets (Claire watches Bree with Jamie after they arrive on the Ridge)

Doppelganger (Brianna observs how different Claire Fraser is from Claire Randall on the Ridge)**

To: James Fraser, a father (Bree sends a letter back with Claire)**

**=my personal favorites

One Summer [in progress]:

Part I (Adso), Part II (Dislocated), Part III (Entryway), Part IV (Pizza & Beer), Part V (Croissants & Coffee), Part VI (SMS), Part VII (Desktop), Part VIII (Sunday Sunflowers & Sundresses), Part IX (Caught Out), Part X (Netflix & Advil), Part XXI (Ben Nevis & Loch Lomond), Part XII (Non-Negotiable), Part XIII (Same), Part XIV (Toothbrushes & Eyeglasses), Part XV (Renovation & Dresser Drawers), Part XVI (Letters & Mattresses), Part XVII (London & Broch Mordha), Part XVIII (British Airways & Kittens), Part XIX (Airports & Antigua), Part XX (Sawny & Ellen), Part XXI (Dice & Doorknobs)

Loss [always in progress]: This is an AU that charts a relationship between Jamie and Claire in modern-day Edinburgh. It was one of the first things I wrote in the fandom, and it’s come to be the one I love the most. I have written two “acts” of this story, and there are ficlets scattered throughout the timeline. I adore these two. They feel real to me in a way that goes above and beyond fanfic (in a not delusional way), and I don’t know that I will ever tire of writing about them. There are over 250k words (!!) in this entire story. You can read it sequentially by clicking over to the masterpost or my masterlist.

#;mod kate #Quarantine Catch Up

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lordjohngreyreadingnook · 4 years ago

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Happy Halloween Rec List!

What a fun event this has been! A huge thanks to everyone who wrote and read and commented and liked and kudos’d and reblogged and otherwise supported all the spooky new stories! Your support and participation has made our first annual Trick-or-Twink Fanfic Spooktacular a huge success!

In case you’re a nerd like MistressPandora, here’s some stats for you...

Didn’t quite get yours finished in time? That’s okay! We’ll keep reblogging if you tag @lordjohngreyreadingnook and leave the AO3 collection open for new submissions until we announce the next event.

Your Trick-or-Twink rec list is below the cut, in the order they were posted. Go get your spooky read on!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Title: I Was a Child Author: @mistresspandorawritesthings Pairing: Hector/John Rating: M Summary: Some people you grieve forever. And sometimes, it's because they refuse to leave. A ghost story.

Title: Lord John, the Succubus Author: @narastories Pairing: John/Tom Byrd Rating: E Summary: Tom frowned down at his drink, toying with the glass. He shouldn’t pry but… He bit his lip. “You’re not getting visits from the succubus, right?” he blurted out. (...) Lord John looked at him. “No, Tom, I’m not. Not quite, that is." My first contribution to the Trick-or-Twink event. Happy Spooky Season! This is referencing "Lord John and the Succubus" by Diana Gabaldon, but I think you can enjoy it without having read that part of the series.

Title: A Gentleman Caller in the Night Author: @angstosaur Pairing: Claire/Jamie/John Rating: M Summary: A knock at the door late at night startles Jamie and Claire. But not as much as the gentleman calling so very late - or his story. There's always room in the hearts of those who love freely to let one more in... especially someone so very deserving of that love.

Title: Into the Dark Author: @iihappydaysii Pairing: Claire/Jamie/John Rating: E Summary: When Jamie finally ends things with Laoghaire, he decides to pursue, the woman of his dreams, Claire Beauchamp, but there is one thing he must do first.

Title: Erebus and Apollo Author: @mistresspandorawritesthings Pairing: John/Percy Rating: M Summary: A stranger makes a spectacular entrance, and Lord John Grey finds himself drawn into another scandal. A horror story.

Title: Beetlejuice and Witchcraft Author: @rubadubdub3nunsinatub Pairing: Brian/John (gender swapped Brianna) Rating: T Summary: John Grey just wanted to take a nice walk but somehow ended up running into Beetlejuice and going witch-hunting on Halloween night.

Title: May He Rest in Pieces Author: @geekinthefuschiahair Pairing: Jamie/John Rating: E Summary: Claire shared the story of Charles Stuart after Culloden with Jamie. But what if he knew long before? What if he told the story to Lord John Grey after returning to Madame Jeanne's to find his friend waiting for him? What if history tells a tale that couldn't possibly be true? Inspired by The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe.

Title: One April Night Author: @londonthunderr Pairing: Hector/John Rating: M Summary: On one April night, the burden of solitude and grief was alleviated. On one April night their bond eluded the impenetrable barrier between life and death, reassuring the love for each other. On one April night they were together again.

Title: Lord John Grey and the Hounds of Brownsville Author: @angstosaur Pairing: Gen Rating: T Summary: Brianna wants to surprise her parents on Halloween. In return she terrifies Lord John Grey who accompanies her, scares her mother and causes her father to be more protective than usual.

Title: Love Potion No. 9 Author: @iihappydaysii and @mistresspandorawritesthings Pairing: Jamie/John Rating: E Summary: When young queer boys begin to go missing under spooky circumstances, skeptical Detective John Grey is forced to team up with Jamie Fraser, a detective known for his use of unusual and paranormal methods to solve cases.

Title: And They Shall Rise Author: @mistresspandorawritesthings Pairing: Gen Rating: M Summary: Nine people in Wilmington have already died mysterious, gruesome deaths. Desperate to stop the violence, Lord John agrees to help Brianna figure out who--or what--the killer is, even though her strategy is a bit... arcane.

Title: What Kind of Monster Author: @geekinthefuschiahair Pairing: Claire/Jamie/John Rating: T Summary: When William sees something unexpected at Fraser's Ridge, he finds himself drunk and confused at a nearby Inn. Feverish and weak, he contemplates what's real and what's not and who is at his side when he needs them the most.

Title: the books of darkest magic Author: @iihappydaysii Pairing: Brian/John (gender swapped Brianna) Rating: M Summary: John and Brian are spending Halloween night doing inventory in John's bookstore when they come across a creepy old book and strange things begin to happen

Title: Lord John and the Ghost of the Scottish Prisoner Author: @angstosaur Pairing: Brian/John (gender swapped Brianna) Rating: M Summary: After taking over as Headmaster of Ardsmuir Academy from the disgraced Harry Quarry, Lord John Grey is working late. A knock at the door leads him into a frightening evening of terror and lust, as a gorgeous young man enters his study. The resident ghost is not impressed at all.

#trick-or-twink event #Lord John Grey #Lord John #Rec List

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bee-kathony · 5 years ago

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Tales From Fraser’s Ridge | Part 36 “The doctor is in”

a/n: I made a poll on twitter and most people voted for a one shot about Claire being ill and Jamie being the doctor so I give you this.... whatever this is ;) and as always, thank you to @julesbeauchamp for the lovely moodboard! nsfw

Missing Moments

I can count the number of times I have been sick on one hand. Once, when I was very young and traveling with Lamb in Egypt — I’d come down with a fever after eating something questionable the locals had offered me.

The next time I had gotten sick was during the war, it was cold and rainy and I lain in bed, thinking that I would be dead by morning. And I had gotten sick when Brianna had come home from school with the flu; we had wallowed in self pity, eating bowls and bowls of chicken soup.

Now, I was sick again, but without the modern amenities I desperately wanted right now. I prided myself on my almost immaculate immune system, having never gotten sick the first time I traveled through the stones. I blamed it entirely on Jamie. He had come home two days ago from hunting, his skin fevered and sweaty.

I’d tried to push him off of me, but his strong arms only wrapped tighter around my waist as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. He slept like the dead that night, his mouth open and his nose clogged. The next morning, I woke with a splitting headache and by that night, I had been ordered for bed rest and broth.

I barely slept at all last night, my body aching, my limbs feeling heavy. Jamie emitted so much body heat that at some point, I had begged him to sleep somewhere else — anywhere but next to me. He had begrudgingly complied and made a sort of palate on the ground next to my side of the bed, his hand resting lightly on my ankle.

More than just feeling achey, I felt rather useless. Normally at this hour, I would be doing the washing or sitting out in my garden, but there was no way I would be getting out of bed for the foreseeable future.

Just as I shut my eyes against the harsh light streaming in the bedroom, the door opened to reveal Brianna, holding Adso in her arms.

“Hello, Mama,” she said quietly. “I brought you a cold cloth. Da is still digging around in your surgery trying to find all the things on your list.”

“Thank you darling,” I smiled and weakly patted the bed for her to sit down. “Are you feeling alright?”

She came to sit beside me, letting Adso climb onto my lap.

“Me? Oh yes, I feel fine. Everyone seems to be perfectly healthy too in case you were wondering,” she grinned, reading my glass face. “Jemmy was asking if he could come see you, but I told him not yet.”

“I wish I could hold him,” I said sadly, wanting nothing more than a cuddle from my grandson, but I settled with a few pets to my wee cat and he purred against my hand. “If I had finished preparing my last batch of penicillin, I could have tried it out.”

“You would have been the perfect test subject for that,” Bree agreed. “Knowing exactly how it would feel and everything.”

My head started to pound and I winced. Brianna placed the cold cloth on my forehead and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Feel better, Mama and get some rest. We’ll take care of things out there.”

“I love you,” I said softly and let my head fall back on the pillow. My eyes were shut so I only heard when she left, closing the door gently behind her.

In my dreams, I was back in the OR. My hands were gloved and ready for surgery and I found myself standing over an open cavity. It was always a thrill to feel a warm body against my fingers and know that I had the power to heal and fix people’s pain.

It was a simple operation on a male, middle aged with appendicitis. My brain shut off while my hands worked. There was nothing to think about, nothing to feel but the warmth of a human body beneath me.

Just as I cut the last of the tissue, the monitors started beeping and the patient’s heart rate dropped at a dangerous rate.

“What happened?” I shouted, but when I looked up I found that I was all alone. The body beneath me start to convulse and blood spurted up and onto my chest and face. He was dying.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” I muttered as I shoved my hands back in to stop the bleeder, but it wasn’t working. A second later, the tell tale sign of loss of life came beeping loudly all around me. I’d lost him.

As I pulled my hands out and angrily yanked my gloves off, I caught a glimpse of red hair. My breath caught in my chest as I took a step forward and lifted the cover off the patient’s face. The man who had just died looked exactly like Jamie. I stared at his lifeless body and when I saw the triangle scar on his chest, I screamed.

“Claire!”

Hands were on my shoulders, lightly shaking me and my eyes flew open. It was his face, the patient’s face staring back at me. It was a dream… just a dream.

“Are ye okay, Sassenach?” Jamie looked worried and I feared what I had said in my sleep.

Still trying to rid myself of a ghost, I simply nodded my head and wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him close.

“I had a nightmare,” I said into his chest.

“What about?” His warm hand rubbed slow circles on my back.

“I was in a surgery, operating on a patient,” I started and explained how it felt good to hold a scalpel again, to feel that rush that an operation brought. “Everything was going fine, but then the man started to bleed and he died on the table.”

“Och, twas just a bad dream, a nighean. Ye didna kill anybody,” he comforted me and I pulled back to look at his face, almost to make sure that he was really there.

“That wasn’t the worst part, Jamie,” I said, my voice still weak. “It was you, you were the patient that died.”

My words must have struck something, and he shivered. His hands came up to rest on my cheeks, his thumb brushing against my lip.

“Well, I’m no dead yet, Sassenach. Yer dreams may try to kill me off, but I’m no plannin’ on dyin’ just yet.”

“Good,” I grinned and he helped me to lay back against the pillows. After the rush of adrenaline from my nightmare, my body was now beginning to feel the same aches and pains as before.

“Besides the nightmare, are ye okay?” He asked.

“As good as one can be,” I shrugged. “I feel quite chilled all of a sudden though. And my whole body still aches as if I’ve been run over by a bus.”

Jamie snorted and reached for my pot of camphor beside the bed. “I dinna ken what a bus is, mo nighean donn, but I reckon it wouldn’t feel good to be run over by. Is it anything like a horse?”

“A very big horse,” I laughed and then that turned into a fit of coughing.

“Lie still, my own,” Jamie dipped two fingers into the camphor and the smell of it filled the room — as much as my nose would allow me to smell anyways. With his other hand, he loosened the front of my bodice and then applied the salve to my chest.

“This shite stinks to high heavens,” he cursed and scrunched his nose up. “Ye best be glad ye canna use that nose of yers.”

“I don’t mind the smell,” I admitted and then sighed as his warm hands methodically worked the salve into my skin. He had rough hands with callouses, but a nice firm touch as well.

“That’s cause all ye do is smell odd things all day, Sassenach,” he chuckled. I let my eyes shut as my husband massaged the salve onto my skin. Now that I was feeling chilly, thought still possibly with a fever, Jamie’s warmth was a welcome.

One hand left my chest, but returned with more salve while the other managed to push down my chemise from my shoulders and well past my breasts. My nipples hardened at the new chill of the air, but Jamie’s hands closed around them.

“Mmm,” I moaned as he ran his thumb firmly around in circles.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked.

“Not there,” I opened one eye. “But it feels good, don’t stop.”

His body vibrated with a laugh above me, and I melted at his touch. It was bliss to have him touch me, and it was bliss now to feel his quiet strength flow into my body. So many times, I was the healer. I was the one to mend and fix a broken body, it was rare that I was on the receiving end of such attention.

Jamie’s hands cupped my breasts, fingers lightly stroking the underside and then moving upwards. I was surprised when I felt my stomach tighten as he ran his thumbs over and over my nipples. I knew that I could arouse Jamie at any moment with the lightest of touches, but I was shocked to find that I was clenching my thighs, trying to relieve some of the building ache.

“Does it hurt anywhere else, a nighean?”

“My arms and legs,” I replied. “My joints feel like they’ve been stretched and yanked.”

My own personal doctor dipped his hand back into the salve and then started to massage my wrist up to my elbow and back down again. His repetitive movements reminded me of another, more painful time.

I had lain in a bed, my body aching with the loss of my first child when Master Raymond had come to me. His hands had emitted a strange blue light as he pressed and kneaded my body. Crackles of light had flooded my eyes, and soon the pain lessened. I hadn’t thought of Faith in so long, but no amount of time would heal my heart from losing her.

Once Jamie finished massaging both arms, he moved down to the end of the bed and lifted one leg into his lap. Warm hands covered my ankle, twisting and pressing against the joint. A soft moan left my lips, and I opened my eyes to see Jamie’s face turned down, focusing on his task.

“You would make a very good doctor,” I muttered.

“Oh, aye?”

“Well, you do have rather large hands so it might be hard to keep steady hold of a scalpel,” I said and then flexed my foot as he ran his thumb along the arch of it.

“I hold a pistol just fine,” he said. “I think I could hold a wee knife.”

“Oooo,” I groaned as his hands moved along my calf and pressed around my knee.

“Did I hurt ye?” He stopped his ministrations.

I shook my head, “No. I’m just sore, but it feels good.”

He moved his hand to my other leg, repeating the same motion. Being sick wasn’t too bad if it meant I could have Jamie rub my body with salves and lotions. Imagining Jamie as a doctor brought me back to thinking about my nightmare. Seeing his lifeless body there was not something I ever wanted to experience.

There was always a chance that when I said goodbye to him that it could be the last time I did so. When I had chosen to come back to this time — to him — I had left a certain sense of safety behind. The world I lived in still had bad people that did bad things, but there was a risk here that scared me every time Jamie wasn’t by my side.

I usually never entertained these kinds of thoughts, but my mind was as fatigued as my body, so they were not held at bay.

A squeak left my mouth as Jamie’s hands pressed against my thigh, his thumb grazing between my legs. The warmth in my belly spread, and I felt a light sweat break out on my upper lip.

“Is this helpin’?” He asked as he scooped up more slave and rubbed it in his hands.

“Mmm, very much,” I said. “Can you rub some on my abdomen?”

“Does that hurt too, Sassenach?” He asked innocently and I pushed down my chemise, revealing my stomach. Jamie pulled down the material and with what energy I had left, I kicked it off the bed and too the ground.

“I ken yer sick, mo ghraidh, but seein’ ye naked and rubbin’ yer body…” he trailed off, his eyes grazing said body. Leaning over, Jamie pressed both hands to my abdomen, applying a gentle pressure.

“You wouldn’t try and take advantage of a sick patient, would you, Jamie?” I smirked.

He scoffed and his hands pressed down over my pubic bone before gliding back up. I wiggled my hips a bit, arching my back to his touch.

“I think it’s ye who is tryin’ to take advantage of me!”

“Me?” I placed my hand over his wrist, pushing it down until it rested between my legs. “I’m just telling you where the pain is.”

“Pain, huh?” He cocked his brow and looked down where his hand rested over me. “I ken a way to make ye feel better in that sense, Sassenach.”

“Oh, you do?” I grinned, already feeling the restorative powers that his body gave me.

“Ye must promise to lie verra still, a nighean. Let me take care of ye for once,” he said. I did as he said and laid flat on the bed, and watched as he undressed and came to hover over me, fully naked.

“I’m not sure this is the prescribed medication,” I chuckled at my own pun and moaned as his hands spread my legs.

“Agh! Woman,” he muttered, pressing his lips to mine. “All ye’ve done is lay in bed, forcing me to rub yer smooth skin. I dinna care what kind of medicine this is.” With that, he pressed forward and slid inside me.

All I wanted to do was throw my arms and legs around him, and take him deeper, but my limbs begged me not to. So I lay quite still, just basking in the feel of him. His cock filled me, and I slid my hand up and down his side, feeling the goosebumps rise on his flesh.

We had made love once while I had a splitting headache, and after my orgasm I found that it had disappeared. Sex wasn’t a cure, but it was a remedy I was willing to try.

Jamie’s hands were tender and his thrusts were gentle and I could tell he was holding back. I wanted to urge him on, but I knew he was being careful not to cause me further harm. My body was slick with the salve and he moved against me, warm and slick.

“Oh God,” I moaned, arching my back. His mouth descended on my neck, his length touching me so deeply as I came around him, my whole body quivering. With a grunt of his own, Jamie came and rested his body briefly on top of mine before rolling off.

If I was chilled before, I was absolutely drenched in sweat now from the exertion. The smell of camphor filled my nose and I sneezed.

“Christ, it does stink in here,” I said.

“Och, I see ye got yer sense of smell back,” he chucked beside me, his own forehead damp.

“Apparently so,” I giggled then and then sighed.

“I had every intention of waitin’ to do that until ye were better, Sassenach,” Jamie admitted and rolled onto his side, his head resting in his hand.

“Well, I made no such promises,” I grinned. “But I do think that’s worn me out!”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he tried to wink which only made me laugh. I shivered as my body calmed down and I reached for Jamie, pulling him close.

“Warm me up.”

“I thought ye said I was too hot,” he said, but wrapped both arms around me.

“You were last night, but now you’re just perfect.”

“Maybe ye should get sick more often, a nighean if it leads to that,” he grinned.

I laughed and looked up at him. “I don’t need to be sick to do… that.”

“Aye, twas mostly me that did all the work.”

I slapped him lightly with my hand and then laid my head against his chest. “Just you wait until I regain all my faculties, then we’ll see who does the work.”

“I canna wait,” he smiled and squeezed me to him.

It wasn’t long before I dozed off, feeling significantly better than hours before. With my warm furnace of a husband to take care of me, I knew I would be on the mend soon.

#outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #tales from frasers ridge #outlander #jamie fraser #claire fraser #TFFR #part 36 #the doctor is in #how cheesy #cheese fest

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thelallybrochlibrary · 6 years ago

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Hi. I have been looking for a story where Jamie bought Claire a mirror to put in their room and they made love in front of it. It is a good story. Thank you. 🤗

Hi there @canhardyheughanwait

That is the part called “Reflection” from the series “Tales From Fraser’s Ridge” by our own @curlsgetdemgurls

Happy reading! xx

#fic: tales from frasers ridge #author: curlsgetdemgurls #answered

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highlnderbrn · 3 years ago

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@sassenchbrn ✉ ❝ what am I not going to do to you might be a more appropriate question.❞

His orbs stare at computer screen in front of him, cuppa of tea on his left hand while reading the information displayed to him in silence. Jamie has always been aware of the presence of his wife, he felt her and smelled her familiar scent that he loved. A wide smile spreading across his lips when he snaps his head up, deep blue facing her lovely face as she stood by the door of his study. ❝Sassenach, ye ken there’s a whole day ahead of us, aye? ❞ He loved their life, their odd routine with their children, his wife working at the hospital, him staying at home... and now there she stood during her off days from work, clearly just woken up, her curls as wild as always and right there, he falls in love again. ❝ What do ye wanna fer breakfast, a nighean? I’d like to spoil mae wife. ❞

#sassenchbrn #⠀⚜ : tales from the future ❪ askbox.#⠀⚜ : a man of worth ❪ ic.#⠀⚜ : X. MODERN ! FRASER’S RIDGE. ❪ ten.#MODERN DAY OLDER JC IM

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scotsmanandsassenach · 5 years ago

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OUTLANDER FAN FICTION: Murtagh

Here is an enjoyably long list of stories featuring Outlander’s one and only Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser! If you have written or know of a Murtagh-centric story (or moment) that’s not on this list please DM or comment below - there‘s no such thing as too much fanfic to read! SANDS x

After Culloden by @phoenixflames12

Weakened by fever, Jamie struggles to come to terms with the loss of Claire and the child and the fact that despite his best efforts, he is still alive.

All It Takes by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

Prompt: Imagine the conversation in S4 between Jamie and Murtagh when he tells his godfather about his second marriage.

An Ardsmuir Man Found by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

Prompt: Would love to see Marsali and Fergus finding Murtagh and bring him and the baby home to Jamie and Claire. The old and the new x

An Extended Stay At River Run by cantletitgo

The moments immediately following the season 4 finale (if you haven’t watched it, there are spoilers in this work!)

Before Light by @westerhos

Murtagh comforts Jamie after Faith’s death.

Can’t Do it For Her by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

Prompt: Hiya! I was wondering if there could be any Murtagh POV from first book/season? Related to either Jamie’s, Claire’s or both’s actions or circumstances? Thanks!

Cross That Line by MooseDeEvita

While traveling from town to town to lure Jamie back to them, Murtagh and Claire turn to each other for physical comfort. After all, confessions of lost love go so well with an ocean view and a sky full of stars. A bit of a deleted scene in episode 14 “The Search” after they hug in the cave by the sea.

Every Breath by thatsoccercoach

“It was there with every breath.”

Explaining Geneva by @renee-writer

A missing scene from Blood of my Blood where Jamie explains what happened with Geneva to Murtagh.

Faith’s Story by Judybrandtner

Murtagh tells Faith the story of the night she was born.

For Love by @redstarfiction

Imagining a conversation between Murtagh and Jamie before the wedding when Murtagh realises his God-Son is in love with the Sassenach.

Guardian Scotsman by @writtenthroughtime

Prompt: What about a story about Claire as a child or a teenager and somehow gets raised by Murtagh?

Hold On by @abreathofsnowandwaffles

“Frank and Jamie are two very different men, but I can tell ye, they both loved ye. Jamie loved ye so much- he sent yer mam back to him, to see ye safe. He was willing to give up his life so ye stood a chance.”

Hope in Change by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

Prompt: Imagine that the first significant person Bree meets in the colonies is Murtagh. It is through Bree that Murtagh finds out that Claire and Jamie are also in the colonies. What if it was Murtagh rather than Lizzie who witnessed Roger being a bit rough with Bree through the window that day?

In This Together by Awilding

During their search to find Jamie, an untimely encounter compels Claire and Murtagh to return to the caves to seek refuge. Their pursuit interrupted, Claire and Murtagh’s companionship is put to the test as they must rely on each other to make it through several days of considerable challenges. Set within the 14th episode of Season 1, “The Search”.

Just the Same by @bonnie-wee-swordsman for @imagineclaireandjamie

A short Murtagh POV from 1x07 during the scene in the stables with Jamie.

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door by @abreathofsnowandwaffles

Murtagh finds his way up to Fraser’s Ridge and is greeted by a family of *three* Frasers.

Laying Just Vengeance by @gotham-ruaidh for @imagineclaireandjamie

Imagine Murtagh’s thoughts as he saves Jamie at Culloden

Murtagh and Rebecca’ Fraser by @renee-writer

Murtagh and Rebecca’s courtship and marriage from the Marine universe. A sweet and fluff end to the story.

Murtagh on the Ridge AU by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

If Murtagh survived Culloden and wound up on the Ridge with Jamie and Claire and company.

Now You’re The Outlander by orphan_account

Reader travels back in time from 2016 to 1744 and is found by Claire, Jamie, Murtagh and Fergus. The Reader and Murtagh develop a relationship but it doesn’t start off very well…

Only Hope by @magnoliasinbloom

‘The dank prison cell rustled and heaved slightly with the coughs and snores and groans of its inmates. Jamie tugged the rough blanket tighter around his shoulders, turning to face the heat of the peat fire.’

Other Grandfather Tales by AbbyDebeaupre for @otheroutlandertales

OOT explores the fairy tales and Scottish stories for children Jamie Fraser may have used for Grandfather Tales.

Peace by @bonnie-wee-swordsman

A very, very short moment from Murtagh’s Death at Culloden.

Playing After Bedtime by thatsoccercoach

Faith gets up after bedtime to play with Murtagh.

Reborn by @xlisaleinx

“Ellen?“ he whispered. Her name sounded strange in his ears; he hadn’t uttered it out loud for many a decade, and yet his tongue still remembered the way to form the syllables, calling her picture to him until he could see her as clear as day, as if she was standing right in front of him.

Sir Prize by thatsoccercoach

Murtagh tells a story.

Sit Still by @lenny9987

Brianna wants to paint Murtagh’s portrait but it proves a more difficult task than she anticipated. Part of my Living It Up at Lallybroch AU series.

The Astronaut and the Lepidopterist by thatsoccercoach

Faith has a school project requiring her to find out what her family members wanted to be when they grew up.

The Gorilla Dance by Judybrandtner

Faith and Brianna Fraser have a new obsession and they want to share it with Murtagh.

The Horizon by @lenny9987

Gaps In Canon: The morning of the battle of Culloden finds Murtagh watching the horizon and waiting for Jamie to return from Craigh na Dun.

The Knife by @whiskynottea for @otheroutlandertales

Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser is asked to craft a knife and finds love in the new world.

The River Runs Again by @whiskynottea for @otheroutlandertales

After so many years with his life chained to another man’s fate, Murtagh was free again.

The Son He’d Never Have by @akb723

Anon asked: “I wonder what Murtagh was thinking when he was watching Jamie and Claire the first time saw each other in their wedding finery outside the church and during the vow?”

The Storyteller by @thewhitelady

A collection of shorts, taking place during Jamie’s youth.

The Truth of You by Devildream69

When two people who’ve learnt the hard way what life could do to a person, find each other again- the inevitable happens. The truth of them becomes the only thing that matters.

To Sway a Heart by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

Can you imagine: Jamie’s reaction straight after Claire teases him about kissing Laoghaire, maybe brooding on it by himself or talking about it in a roundabout way with Murtagh? Maybe him deciding to do something about it?

Two Red Hens by @written-rebellion

An open letter from Murtagh to his dearly departed… (aka the au where everything is okay and nothing went wrong ever)

White Roses of Scotland by behzaintfunny

December, 1754. Ardsmuir prison. James Fraser is constantly surrounded by hundreds of people, yet more alone than ever. There appears to only be a single light in the everlasting darkness, however faint it may be.

Whither Thou Goest by fardareismai for @imagineclaireandjamie

I was wondering I always thought it was sad that Murtagh never got to meet Brianna so maybe you could do a story about Murtagh being alive when Bree came to Fraser’s Ridge

#murtagh #murtagh fitzgibbons fraser #Outlander #fan fiction #fanfic #olffrec

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ladywynneoutlander · 5 years ago

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Heart’s Abundance

More sweet times on the Ridge as William finds his place.

Part 2 Hearthside

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 , Part 6

After our harvest meal the afternoon passes in pleasant repletion. The adults scatter to various corners to doze and chat. Jem, Germain, and Fanny disappear outside. I can hear them laughing as I lay a quilt over a sleeping Mandy. She took to John Quincey immediately, and is now curled up beside him on the settle.

This state of peaceful repose lasts approximately an hour. Then Jamie stands and stretches himself, back popping. He looks at William, “Will ye walk wi’ me? I can reacquaint you with the place.”

William stands as well, nodding, “Yes, of course.” He remains a bit formal, and I wish I knew more about their last meeting.

I watch them from the kitchen door as they go, boots crunching the fallen leaves with each step, so alike in gait and height that no one could fail to see them for what they are, a father and his son.

When I turn around Ian is there with his baby in his arms. He stares thoughtfully at the door for a moment before sitting down at the table. He says nothing and I wait patiently, taking the baby and feeling his warm heavy weight. Finally, Young Ian turns to me, “Ye know Auntie, I don’t know why yon man has come, but I think maybe it’s to do with you as well as Uncle Jamie.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so Ian. Whatever would William want with me?”

Ian gives a small smile, “Maybe he needs ye.”

I gently rock the baby, not looking up as I say, “No. What use could I possibly be?”

Ian touches my arm to draw my attention. His brown eyes are soft. “Ye can be kind. Ye can be a comfort.”

His voice becomes more matter-of-fact. “The Mohawk do say women are great healers of body and spirit. They provide strength and consistency to all.” He smiles at me, “Maybe William needs to find his strength just now.”

I nod, but I’m not convinced. “Maybe.”

We sit a moment longer, enjoying the peace. I smooth the baby’s soft downy hair, then give him my finger, watching in fascination as the tiny hand closes around it even in sleep.

Finally, Ian moves to go. “Just think on it, Auntie, aye?” He takes the little one and leaves to find Rachel.

I stay by myself for a time, and it comes to me how much William has been through. The loss of two mothers (three if you count me) and Jane. Consistency indeed. Also, the loss of his very identity. He had been loved, that much I knew, but must feel very alone and confused just now. I remember how difficult the same situation was for Brianna. She felt heartbroken and torn, betrayed. Compassion wells in me, and as the sun sinks behind the trees I feel a tear slide warm down my cheek.

-o0OOO0o-

That evening, lying close and warm next to Jamie, I hear how their meeting went.

Jamie took the boy to the White Spring, that place of truth. William was quiet on the trail, turned inward. When they arrived, Jamie broke the thin scrim of ice and took a cold mouthful. William did the same, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

Jamie settled himself on a boulder and smiled at the boy. “So, if ye’ll forgive my asking, what brings ye to the Ridge?”

William didn’t answer immediately. He sat as well and drew in a deep breath before speaking. “First, I should like to thank you for your assistance in the matter of Jane, and also for the care you’ve given her sister.”

Jamie waves his hand in dismissal, “’Twas nothing lad. Any decent man would have done the same.”

William gave a mild snort, “I take leave to doubt that. Still, not any man did. You did, and with barely a thought. I knew M--,” he hesitated, then went on, “Mother Claire, both she and my father say you are an honorable man. Apparently, they are right.”

They sat with this for a moment, admiring the slant of golden sunlight through the yellow of chestnut and birch. When William didn’t say more Jamie ventured, “The thought had occurred to me that ye may be in some trouble?” He made the last into a question.

William shrugged irritably. “No. Not trouble exactly. I have someone to find, my cousin Ben, but I cannot continue in that search until spring. That’s not why I’m here.” He stood up suddenly, and paced a bit before taking a deep breath and facing Jamie squarely. “I have come to ask if I might stay for a time. Here,” he adds, as if there were doubt, “on Fraser’s Ridge.”

Jamie was surprised, but quickly brought his face back to neutrality. He still thought William likely needed help in some way, but maybe it isn’t the kind he needed before. He stood and extended a hand, grasping the lad’s shoulder. “Aye, of course, ye’re always welcome.”

Wiliam takes a step backward, away from him, but not in a harsh way. “Thank you. I don’t require anything. I can sleep in the barn or wherever is convenient.”

Jamie smiled at him, “Aye, that’s good, but we can likely find ye a bed.”

They made their way home in the last light of the day. Jamie felt as though a new path had opened before him, unknown and steep, but one that led to a bonny place.

-o0OOO0o-

The next day we bid farewell to John Quincey, off to overwinter with the Cherokee. William stays. He gradually fits into the routine of the Ridge; hunting, doing farm chores, and joining Roger or Bree whenever they venture out. He is beloved instantly by the children, playing with the boys, talking with Fanny, and carrying Mandy perched high on his shoulder. Still, he is mostly quiet, listening and observing.

I can tell Brianna is pleased, eager to embrace this new brother. William seems equally in awe of her, and they seem to find joy in each other. More than once I catch Jamie watching them, a look of quiet happiness on his face.

One day I come into the study to find Jamie looking out the window. Outside Brianna and William are exercising the horses, walking them in circles and brushing their shaggy winter coats. He doesn’t turn, but he must have sensed me, because he holds his hand out toward me, inviting. I take it and he draws me against him. I circle my arms around his waist, and feel his arms come around me in turn, the warmth of him a comfort and a blessing.

Jamie is still engaged in the scene outside, “I never thought to see such a grand thing, Sassenach.”

I give him a squeeze of acknowledgement and laugh. “Neither did I! I nearly fell off the porch when I saw William.”

Jamie smiles as well, “Aye, and ye weren’t the only one.”

He holds me for a while longer. I look up at Jamie’s face, happy now, but with tiny lines framing his striking blue eyes. I can feel the scars on his back beneath his shirt, and it comes to me how many hardships he faced to bring us to this moment. I am moved with love for him, and lay a hand over his heart. “Jamie, I want you to know. I’m glad he’s here. We all are.”

Jamie takes my hand and turns to face me fully, “I know ye are. You are a wonder, truly. He isna yours, and it isna right that he should be here to torment you. Thank ye Claire, for welcoming the lad.”

“Posh,” I say gently. “He’s yours, Jamie, for that alone I would love him. But also…” I pause, looking outside while I gather my thoughts. “Also, I love him for himself. He’s a fine boy and he was very kind when I spent time with him in Boston.” I know Jamie doesn’t like to recall my marriage to John Grey, but it matters here. “I think- maybe, I can be there for him, maybe be a sort of mother to him.”

Jamie doesn’t answer and I glance up. I am surprised to see unshed tears glimmer in his eyes. “He couldna have a finer one,” he says huskily. He pulls me close then, bends his head, and kisses me. His mouth is soft and his arms are strong, and all is warmth and hope between us.

-o0OOO0o-

The evenings are long in winter. It is the time for songs, and fires, hearth and home. When the family gathers late in the evening, the children tucked in bed, we often tell stories. We hear Highland tales of kelpies and fairies, farmers and lairds. We hear personal stories about family and friends, also C.S. Lewis, E.B. White, Louisa May Alcott, the lives of Saints, romantic poetry, and Greek heroes. And in each telling, regardless of the subject, we reveal a bit more of ourselves to one another.

It is nearly a fortnight before William tells a story of his own, venturing forth with a story about Sergeant Cutter that has laughter ringing from the rafters, fit to wake the entire Ridge. He speaks more often after that, sometimes tales of adventure, and rarely, of his boyhood. Once he even mentions a groom named MacKenzie.

Tonight we are up particularly late, and the room has grown quiet. The air is heavy, and I know we will wake on the morrow under a blanket of white. Into this expectancy William speaks. Quietly, his elbows on his knees as he watches the hearthfire, he begins a story of Isobel.

“Mother Isobel loved Christmas. She festooned every railing and mantel with greenery. The whole house smelled grand. Even if it were only the two of us, as it often was after we lost grandfather, we sang carols, and had pudding and candies. She made it special every year… magical. To a boy.” He pauses and we wait, listening to the gentle crackle and pop of dried pine wood.

“One year there was a terrible storm. I remember the wind howling down the chimneys and causing the yule log to flare up and wave about. I was frightened and began to cry and whinge. I was a little devil truly. I was really crying from loneliness though, and from being left behind. Mother Isobel somehow knew the truth of it. She took me onto her lap and stroked my hair. ‘Willie, my darling, sometimes those we love cannot be with us. We may wish it fervently, but circumstances cannot be changed. Absence doesn’t mean they love us less, or we them. Indeed, it is often their care for us that keeps them away. They must do what is necessary. But remember love, they are never gone from our hearts.’”

William looks at Jamie. “I thought those words ridiculous then. I felt abandoned, and I let my grief turn to anger at those who left me.” He takes a deep breath, “Now though, I think I understand, and I find Mother Isobel was wise indeed.”

“Aye, that she was,” Jamie says kindly.

We sigh collectively. Roger pulls a guitar into his lap, strumming a chord. “Let’s have a tune. A song to love’s sacrifices,” he says in his rough voice. He turns to Brianna and smiles. “They are always worth it.”

As Roger plays my mind wanders. First to William and his story. Yes, maybe healing of a kind is needed, hopefully has begun already. I will do all I can to help, and the peace of the Ridge will be a balm if William lets it. There is no outside world, no war here. Not yet. Not in winter.

The sacrifices of love. I remember Frank and dear Uncle Lamb. Then further, to Geillis, Dougal, Rupert, and Colum. They all loved, whether people or causes or places or things, and made their choices accordingly. And where were they now? I shudder and Jamie pulls me closer against him, a buttress against the past. I lean on him gratefully. We two know better than anyone the heavy sacrifice that true love can require, and times like this are all the more precious for the knowing. So I return to the present, put my head on Jamie’s chest, and simply listen.

Thanks for reading! I promise family fun next week!

#outlander #heart's abundance

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docrotten · 4 years ago

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GRUESOME GUIDE to 10 HORROR MOVIES for January 2021

Join your host Doc Rotten on the GRUESOME GUIDE to Horror Movies for January 2021. Back again are the scariest, goriest, bloodiest co-hosts on the 'Net. Joining Doc tonight is Podcasting Rock Star & International Cosplay Queen, Vanessa Thompson.

Shadow in the Cloud - 1/1/2021

Available select Theaters, on Demand, and Digital January 1, 2021.  Writer: Max Landis, Roseanne Liang Cast: Chloë Grace Moretz, Nick Robinson, Beulah Koale

30 Coins - 1/4/2021

Available on HBOMax Beginning January 4, 2021 Director: Álex de la Iglesia Writer: Jorge Guerricaechevarría, Álex de la Iglesia Cast: Eduard Fernández, Megan Montaner, Miguel Ángel Silvestre

Butchers - 1/12/2021

In select theaters and on VOD January 12, 2021 Director: Adrian Langley Writer: Adrian Langley and Daniel Weissenberger Cast: Simon Phillips, Michael Swatton, Julie Mainville, Anne-Carolyne Binette, James Hicks, Frederik Storm, Nick Allan, Samantha De Benedet, Blake Canning, Jonathan Largy

Bloody Hell - 1/14/2021

In Select Drive-ins and on Demand Jan. 14th, 2021 Director: Alister Grierson (Sanctum) Writer: Robert Benjamin Cast: Ben O’Toole (Hacksaw Ridge), Meg Fraser (Leech), Caroline Craig (Blue Heelers), Matthew Sunderland (Out Of The Blue), and Travis Jeffery (Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales)

Hunted - 1/14/2021

Available on SHUDDER January 14, 2021 Director: Vincent Paronnaud Writer: Vincent Paronnaud Cast: Magritte Award-winning actors Lucie Debay (THE CONFESSION) and Arieh Worthalter (GIRL)

Ten Minutes to Midnight - 1/19/2021

Available January 19th, 2021 from 1091 Pictures Director: Erik Bloomquist Writer: Erik Bloomquist, Carson Bloomquist Cast: Caroline Williams, Nicole Kang, Nicholas Tucci, Adam Weppler, William Youmans

PG: Psycho Gorman - 1/22/2021

In Theaters, On Demand and Digital HD January 22 Director: Steven Kostanski Writer: Steven Kostanski Cast: Nita-Josee Hanna, Owen Myre, Adam Brooks, Alexis Hancey, and Matthew Ninaber

Wrong Turn - 1/26/2021

Director: Mike P. Nelson Writer: Alan B. McElroy Cast: Matthew Modine, Charlotte Vega, Emma Dumont

The Queen of Black Magic - 1/28/2021

Premieres January 28 on SHUDDER Director: Kimo Stamboel Writer: Joko Anwar Cast: Ario Bayu, Hannah Al Rashid, Adhisty Zara

The Little Things - 1/29/2021

Coming to theaters and exclusively on HBO Max on January 29 Director: John Lee Hancock Writer: John Lee Hancock Cast: Denzel Washington, Rami Malek, and Jared Leto

Check out this episode!

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ladytp · 5 years ago

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Author interview

Tagged by: @writerloverpsycho-pomp – thanks, dear!

Name: LadyTP – yes, that is my real name! (or not… 😁)

Fandoms: A Song of Ice and Fire – which kind of blends into Game of Thrones too. I wish they were one and the same, but alas, the divergence is too much for that.

Where you post: AO3 and Fanfiction.net – but I do prefer AO3

Most popular oneshot: If taking AO3 number of kudos as a yardstick for the ‘most popular’, it is “The Look”, a story about Sandor grasping his opportunity to truly have a good look at Sansa – and yes, a very intimate look it was!

Most popular multi-chapter story: My latest time travel fix-it fic, still a WIP but approaching the pointy end, “This Time, We'll Do Better” - which may not be a surprise as it is also my longest fic with most chapters...

Favorite story you wrote: Whoa, this is like asking a parent which one of their children they love the most! Hmmm, I am very partial to “The Triangle”, a beautiful love triangle between Sansa, Sandor and Jaime – but not as you may think… It was my first true long-fic and inspired by my long-lasting fascination with Arthurian legends and the triangle between Queen Guinevere, King Arthur and Sir Lancelot.

Story you were nervous to post: My only non-ASOAIF fic, “In the Quiet of the Night, Candour” in Outlander fandom; a brief encounter between Jamie Fraser and Lord John when John visits Fraser’s Ridge. It was harrowing - as dipping a toe in writing for a new fandom probably always is, and this one was especially hard because of the Scottish parlance Jamie uses. Yet I enjoyed it!

How you choose your titles: Oh, I love thinking of titles! Initially I went for single word titles aiming to capture the essence of the fic in one word (“The Triangle”, “The Look”, “Stolen”), but later I turned to longer, more whimsical and probably even a bit pretentious titles with an old-fashioned touch (“Past Was Such A Long Time Ago”, “Who Hath Drank Mine Wine?”, “Would That She Would Cleanse Me”).

Do you outline: Shorter fics I outline usually in my head, only listing main aspects in dot points at the beginning of each chapter before starting to write. For my latest long fic (“This Time…”) I wanted to do it properly – and did a mighty outline on an Excel sheet. Each chapter has its own section and main outlines, followed by additional little details that I want to include, plus how the chapter will end. I outlined the first 10-20 chapters this way, and from thereon kept on outlining at least another 10-20 chapters ahead from what I was writing.

Complete: 27 completed fics – whoa! Where did they all come from? I also have one complete fic I posted in LiveJournal that I planned to edit and post on AO3 but haven’t gotten into…

In-progress: One WIP very much in progress – and one undefined collection of short independent tales I may or may add into later. And oh, my very first fic draft, all >55,000 words of it, which I wrote in my excitement before stopping to take a breath. I haven’t looked back into it for years – it is probably horrible drivel that would require a complete rewriting if I ever wanted to do something with it….

Coming soon/not yet started: When I do finish my WIP, I’m going to take a deep breath and think what next. Maybe additional pieces or missing scenes for “This Time…”? Maybe even continuation of “Jumping from the Ropes”, my only modern AU (who would have guessed!)? Maybe something completely new?

Do you accept prompts: I have done it only once, after finishing a fic and asking or prompts for little inspiration. Maybe that time will come to do it again, who knows!

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: I have no idea as yet – but I’m excited anyway! As I know it will be great to write something new again (as much as I enjoy writing my current WIP…).

Tagging: @hardlyfatal, @gefionne, @thefeatherofhope, @bluecichlid and @sarahtheblack - have fun, ladies!

#meme #author interview #writerloverpsycho-pomp #thank you!#this was fun #who wouldn't like to drivel on and on about their writing?#LOL!

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otheroutlandertales · 6 years ago

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Anonymous said: How about one of the stories from Grandfather Tales -- the book Jamie printed when he and Claire went back to Scotland?

Author’s Note: This one is loosely based on the fairy tale Tikki Tikki Tembo.

Other Grandfather Tales

by @abbydebeaupreposts

“Da, Da, Da!” Ian Murray glanced down to see his son tugging on his sleeve. It was getting toward nightfall, but the children had been indefatigable. Not even sitting them all down for dinner had quieted them. Still, it was a special kind of joy to see Og with his cousins. As if that thought had conjured her up, he caught a flash of Bree’s red hair mid-swing as she was tagged by Jem. “Yer it!” he shouted with glee and escaped the long reach of her arm. It was so good to have them back on the Ridge. His eyes swept across the campfire taking in the sight of his mother and his uncle leaning against each other in companionable silence, like him, both content to watch all the children running and playing in the meadow just beyond.

His auntie Claire was helping Rachel put things away for the evening and Roger still wasn’t back from the springhouse with the jugs of ale.

He felt another sharp tug and stared into the sun kissed face of his son, “What is it, a bhalaich?”

“What’s thee names?”

“What? My names?” Ian wondered what he meant. Og still had a tendency to mix his prepositions.

“No Da, thee,” he said pointing to his own chest, “All them.” Og bounced up and down on his heels and made a wide sweeping gesture to encompass just about everybody in his field of view.

“He wants to know his middle names,” this explanation coming from Mandy who had intercepted her father and was now carrying a jug that looked heavy in her arms. Ian quickly plucked it from her, pouring himself a generous glass. When he didn’t immediately respond, Mandy went on, “I’m Amanda Claire Hope MacKenzie and Jemmy is Jeremiah Alexander Ian Fraser MacKenzie, Da is Roger Jeremiah Wakefield MacKenzie and Mam is Brianna Ellen Randall Fraser MacKenzie and Grandda is—.”

“Ah, like the way I am Ian James Fitzgibbons Fraser Murray,” Ian noted.

“And Okwaho'kenha,” Rachel said using his Mohawk name. She scooped Og up and held Ian’s gaze. He could read her like a book, and knew he was going to be fielding this one.

“Well Og, the plain truth of it is, yer name is just plain Og Murray. We thought we’d pick out a name for you in the Mohawk fashion when you got a bit older.” The real story was only slightly more complicated than that, but he could tell from the look on his son’s face neither of these explanations were going to satisfy him. What else could he say? It simply did not match with his mother’s Quaker upbringing nor his Mohawk traditions to give children ostentatiousness names at birth.

Og, unfortunately, had been going through a why, why, why stage -- morning, noon and night -- of late. Now, he could tell his son was gearing up for a lengthy discourse on the subject and had no way to head him off at the pass.

Salvation came in the form of a gravelly voice from across the fire pit, “You should tell him the real story.” Upon hearing his grandfather’s voice, Og squirmed until Rachel put him back down and he raced across the edge of the fire to strong arms that helped him climb onto his lap, Og pulling himself up by latching onto the man’s thick, white beard.

“Story? Thee tell, Moopa!” Og demanded.

“Thee wants to hear it, then?” Murtagh gently teased, for prepositions were hard enough for a bairn to figure out, let alone one with a Quaker mother.

It had been Og who’d christened him Moopa and, of course, the name had stuck with all the rest of the bairns as well. He was pleased to have his own special family name. Murtagh accepted a glass of ale from Claire, who had returned and settled down beside him for what promised to be a good tale, if the smiles on Jamie and Jenny’s faces were any indication.

“This is a story about your other grandfathers,” he began and slowly all the other children came to settle around and listen as well, “Yer Grandda Jamie and your Grandpa Ian, ye ken the one in Scotland?” Murtagh look down at Og.

“Oh, Lallybroch,” he breathed. Og had been told enough stories for the Highlands to occupy a place of almost mystical wonder in his imagination.

“Aye, just so, my lad. Wayback when your grandfathers were around Jem’s age, they had been given charge of the stables, the watering and feeding of the horses.”

At this Og uttered the Cherokee word for horses and, hearing it, Ian shared a private smile with Rachel. “Well, it was getting to harvest season and yer great grandfather, the one they called Black Brian,” this time it was Jem’s turn to exclaim, “Dubh!” Ian watched as Jamie shot his grandson a look of startled appreciation, it had been a long time since he’d heard anyone call his father by that name.

“Aye, that’s what they called him,” Jenny agreed.

“Believe it or no, Granny Jenny’s hair used to be black as night, just like our father’s,” Jamie said, patting his sister’s knee.

“Ye may be younger than me, my lad, but do ye ken ye have almost as much silver on yer heid as me?” Her eyes danced.

“The boys, puffed wi’ self-importance at being given such responsibility, began well enough, mucking the stables and getting the hay. But they soon tired of lugging heavy buckets of water between the well and the stables. Yer Grandda got it into his head to have some fun with poor Grandpa Ian and next thing he knew, a bucket had been dumped right o’er his head. That made your Grandpa so angry that he turned quick as lightning and went after Jamie.”

“Aye, charged me just like that daft bull up in the north pasture,” Jamie confirmed.

“It’s hard to picture Ian going on the attack,” Bree laughed, remembering her gentle uncle as more of a peacemaker than a fighter.

“No… not after the leg, that’s true enough,” Murtagh agreed.

“In his prime, though,” Jenny said, “He was a canty wee fighter. But he got the best of Jamie wi’out landing a single blow.”

“What happened?” Germain demanded. At that, Murtagh snorted and gave all the children a look full of mirth.

“Jamie was so surprised, he backed all the way up to the edge of the well and the next thing he knew, he went arse over teakettle, straight into the well!” At this the children let out delighted shrieks of laughter, and the adults all smiled at the abashed look on Jamie’s face. “Well, now, luckily he didna hit his head on his way down; but he was trapped, and good. Stuck there at the bottom of the well. He couldna climb out, for the stone was slippery and Ian wasna strong enough to lift him all by himself using the rope. Try as they might, he and Ian couldna figure out how to get him out of there.”

“Aye, the worst part was the chores werena done. I thought if Da came back and saw me trapped, he’d likely throw Ian in after me. So, I told Ian to run quick as he may and get help.” Jamie told them.

“I was out back, plucking a chicken,” Jenny added, “Feathers all over my hair. I was sweet on him, even then, and thought I must look a fright but even so I kent he looked worse. All red in the face, wheezing and a look of terror about him. Lord, I thought something terrible had happened to Jamie.”

“Something terrible did happen to Jamie…” Jamie put in and Claire laughed.

“I meant,” Jenny said with the exaggerated patience of someone who has had this argument many times before, “Something really terrible, and the longer it took him to spit it out the more worried I became.”

“What did Ian finally say?” Claire asked.

“He said,” Murtagh cut in, rolling his eyes at Jamie and Jenny for interrupting his flow, “‘James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser has fallen into the well!’ That’s why it took him so long to get it out. Ye ken there were several Jamie Frasers living around those parts back then and so he needed to tell the whole name. And yer Granny Jenny said, ‘Oh my lord, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser has fallen into the well! Ye must go find Murtagh!’ And so poor Ian didna even have time to catch his breath and he had to set off again, all over Lallybroch desperate to get my help before Jamie’s Da came back. And at every croft he has to say the same thing, ‘James Alexander Malcolm McKenzie Fraser has fallen into the well, is Murtagh here?’ It took forever for him to get that great long name out over and over again. By the time word reached me, it was too late. Brian had returned. Between the three of us, we managed to get Jamie out of the well. By that time the poor lad was an ice cube. I’m surprised wee pieces of his backside didna crack off with each lash his Da laid down. I dinna think either lad sat down for two days after.”

“God, ‘twas true, there I was shiverin’ and shaking so hard I swear I could hear my balls rattling in-” Jamie abruptly closed his mouth, turning red as he suddenly remembered the women and children. Murtagh gave him a look and he saw more than one of the boys absently touching their own laps in sympathy.

“The next day, I overheard Jamie and Ian talking, and Jamie says, ‘God man, what took you so long?’ And Ian, still smarting from the strapping he got from Brian and then the ten extra his own Da added, turned around, all red in the face and steaming and he said ‘I’d like to see ye do better! Running around the countryside yelling out a name like James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. If I had been the one who fell, it wouldna have taken ye all of two seconds to say Ian Murray and I’ll tell ye now, if I never ever have to say that long name again it will be too soon!’”

“Oh Christ, poor Ian,” Jamie said wiping tears of laughter, “I’d forgotten that part.” Jamie nudged his sister’s leg. “Come to think of it, I dinna think he ever did say my full name out loud again. When I became a mercenary in France, he shortened my name altogether, introduced me as Jamie MacTavish.”

“And so, wee Og Murray, not long before yer parents got marrit, Ian went back to see Grandpa in Scotland and yer Grandpa told yer Da that story. Then, made his son promise that he’d take better care and no’ burden his grandson with a muckle-sized name. The shorter the better, that’s the moral of that tale!”

#outlander fanfiction #otheroutlandertales #mod abby #ch: murtagh #ch: oggy #ch: young ian #ch: jamie #ch: jenny #ch: ian #canon divergence #book: bees #category: general #oot #*

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