#featuring: isobel dunsany grey

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Hi, ladies! Just wanted to say I love the stories, and one of my favorite ones is Come Hell or Helwater, and I'd love to see more of it ♥️♥️

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

Come Hell or Helwater - Part Nine

Claire tried to get more information from Isobel as she followed the girl through the mud of the yard to the main house. The rain had let up earlier that afternoon but clouds shrouded the moon suggesting that the reprieve would only be a temporary one.

“Your sister sent you to fetch me?” she asked.

“I wanted to send for Mother but she said I shouldn’t bother her and that I wasn’t to wake anyone in the house, so I asked if I could come for you and she said I could if it would make me feel better,” Isobel explained, rambling in her anxious state.

Claire felt the surge of adrenaline begin to abate as they came to one of the servants’ entrances near the kitchen in the back of the house.

“Wait,” she urged Isobel in a whisper. “If we need to be quiet about this, I want you to tell me now what’s happened. Why did you want to fetch anyone? You said there was blood?”

Isobel looked longingly at the door for a moment before turning back to Claire and taking a deep breath. “I don’t know what woke me exactly. Usually it doesn’t take too much—the wind or the rain. That’s what I thought it was at first—the wind picking up because the rain was starting again. It sounded like it was howling but as it went on, I realized it wasn’t the wind at all.” Isobel blinked back at the sympathetic wetness gathering in her eyes. “It was Geneva. She was crying, trying to muffle it in her pillow. My room is across the hall from hers. We used to sneak out of bed and climb in with one another when we were younger and had difficulty sleeping or if we heard the other wake with nightmares. I found her in bed but there was some blood too—on her hands and on her shift.”

“But she was conscious and coherent,” Claire said, clarifying and reassuring Isobel. “We’ll be as quiet as we can but from what you’ve told me, it doesn’t sound like she’s in immediate danger. Now… lead the way.”

Isobel seemed calmer as she led Claire into the deserted kitchen. Claire held her back a moment, grabbing a towel and urging her to clean her feet, which, to Claire’s horror, were bare. She also did her best to wipe the mud from her own shoes and minimize the evidence of their trail through the house. Satisfied, she nodded for Isobel to continue showing her the way up the servants’ stairway to the side of the house where the family’s sleeping quarters were.

It was strange to be in that part of the house and not encounter another soul. Each time Claire had gone to see and treat Lady Dunsany there had been housemaids and other servants scurrying around—tending fires, replacing flowers, dusting, carrying clothes to be washed and mended… The carpeting was thick and muffled the sound of their footsteps, even when they passed over spots where the floorboards beneath groaned under their weight.

Isobel didn’t knock, just tried the handle and then the door eased open on silent hinges and Geneva stood before them looking composed and annoyed on the surface, but Claire noted the puffiness around her eyes and the strain in the way she held herself ushering them in and closing the door behind them.

“You… you’ve changed,” Isobel whispered, glancing at Geneva’s crisp shift.

“Go to bed, Isobel,” Geneva instructed her sister. “I let you go for Mrs. Mackenzie, now please, go to bed.”

Isobel looked to Claire with uncertainty and reluctance. Claire took one look at Geneva and smiled at Isobel to reassure her. “Go on,” she said warmly. “I’ll make sure she’s alright and then I can see myself out. You’ve done everything you should’ve and now you need your rest.”

Conceding, Isobel slipped back to the door and across to her own room, Geneva going to peek into the hallway to see that Isobel’s door closed as she’d been bid before shutting her own once more. Claire noticed the momentary ripple of relief through Geneva’s shoulders before she turned and the tension was back holding her straight and tall, that polite smile on her lips.

“I’m sorry my sister pulled you from your bed and wasted your time. I assure you I’m fine. I don’t know what notions she got into her head but I’m sure it was some dream that she couldn’t shake once she woke,” Geneva told Claire, her voice quiet and apologetic.

“If that were true you wouldn’t have put the fear of God into her about waking anyone up,” Claire challenged her as gently as she could, “and the shift she said was stained with blood wouldn’t be in your fireplace now. You’ll need to be sure every last scrap burns or it’ll start gossip. Now, first things first, are you injured or in any pain?”

Geneva held Claire’s gaze, defiant and proud for a moment but her eyes were beginning to shine in the darkness. “No,” she yielded at last.

“Will you tell me what happened and let me examine you? If there was bleeding, I just want to be sure it’s safely stopped and if it needs to be dressed that it’s treated properly so you don’t contract an infection,” Claire explained.

Geneva remained tight lipped but Claire could see flickers of the war she was waging with herself.

“I swear to you that anything you say to me in this room will be held in complete confidence,” Claire assured her. “It was part of the oath I took when I became a healer. I won’t share anything about this with anyone—not even your mother. You are my patient and your needs are my priority.”

A dam inside Geneva cracked enough for silent tears to begin weaving their way down her cheeks. Claire took slow steps toward Geneva, realizing again just how young she truly was behind the bravado. She loosely put her arms around Geneva and gave the girl her shoulder to cry on. Geneva remained stiff for a moment but the crack in the dam split wider and she needed to grab hold of something or risk being swept away. She clung to Claire while her body shook with silent sobs.

“I have an idea of what might have happened,” Claire whispered when Geneva had transitioned from jarring shakes to a more controlled trembling. Claire pulled back so she could look Geneva in the eye. “I know you said you’re not injured but I need to know, were you attacked?”

Geneva failed to look indignant though Claire had the impression she was trying as she shook her head and pulled out of Claire’s grasp. She turned to the bed, staring at the bedclothes, still rumpled from sleep… and perhaps more.

“I… asked him to come,” Geneva said quietly. “It was my choice. I thought…” her voice wavered and there was an audible hitch as she drew in a deep breath before continuing. “I thought… it would be easier… marrying Lord Ellesmere and… I thought it would be easier if I could at least choose for myself…” She turned to face Claire again, tears shining in her eyes and her expression furious and terrified. “But how can I go through with it now? I thought, one night. I thought it would be enough to have that first time be someone I wanted.” She sighed and dropped onto the bed, leaning forward, her hands curling in the fabric of her shift. “How am I supposed to share that man’s bed when I know what it’s like to…”

Claire crossed and eased herself down beside Geneva, careful not to touch her or otherwise spook her.

“I thought my husband was dead for ten years,” Claire told Geneva. “I had a child who needed a father… so I was married to another during those ten years… and shared that man’s bed. I had known him before and he was a good man.” Not as good as she’d remembered or maybe it was that their time apart had changed them both. It didn’t matter anymore. “It’s… different… Physical desire is only one part of the equation when it comes to sex. Even that… the body reacts sometimes, whether you want it to or not. But it’s different when it’s with someone you truly care about… someone you love,” Claire said gently. “I lay with my other husband during those years and… even when I enjoyed it… it was never quite what I have now.”

“I fancied him when we were younger but assumed he saw me as a sister because of how close he and Gordon were. I didn’t know he fancied me too. I was just… desperate… when I hinted at what I wanted… But he agreed. And when he came earlier… he told me he loves me and if he could have… he would have said or done something. But he has nothing to offer that my parents…” Geneva rambled, the words pouring forth, carried along by the combined weight of the burden and the swirling emotions.

“It wasn’t an attack but did he hurt you?” Claire asked. “He wouldn’t necessarily have meant to…”

Geneva shook her head. “Not more than he’d warned me about. He… he started with kissing me and then we moved to the bed and he touched me too.” Geneva’s legs clamped together tight, trapping whatever sensation her memory conjured. “And it felt… so good,” she sighed.

She wasn’t looking at Claire but rather at the shift slowly burning in the hearth. Claire wasn’t sure Geneva registered her presence at all.

“He told me that from what he’d heard it would probably hurt the first time but that he’d try to be gentle and quick about it. And he was right. It did hurt a little at first but then it started to feel good again and I didn’t want him to stop. He told me to lie still and he took a cloth to clean me up… there. I bled a little but it had stopped. I asked if he would come to my room again and he smiled and said we had more time before he had to leave—that the next time would be better. And it was. He said he loves me and I told him I love him and… we made love.”

Claire could just make out the color rising in Geneva’s cheeks and suspected it wasn’t from embarrassment or her own presence.

“I fell asleep after and when I woke… he’d gone. It was like I’d woken from a perfect dream and then I realized… I had.” She turned to Claire again, her self-consciousness beginning to return. “It’s like it didn’t really happen. It’s not going to stop my wedding or change anything except now I know what it should be like, what it is I’ll never have.” The tears were winding their way silently down her cheeks again, her attention shifting to the few bloody scraps of fabric that remained in the hearth. “I realized I was bleeding again and I wanted to scream but couldn’t. I must have been making some noise because that’s when Isobel came to check on me and… you know the rest.”

Claire slowly extended her hand and took one of Geneva’s, giving it a squeeze of sympathy.

“As I said before, I won’t breathe a word. But you should consider telling your sister. Aside from the fact that she’s worried for you, I think it will help you to have someone more than me to share this with,” Claire suggested. “Now… I’d like to give you a physical examination to be sure the bleeding isn’t a sign of something more but I’ll need natural light for that. I can give you some herbs that will help ease the soreness—because trust me, even if you don’t feel it right now, you will feel sore. You need to let them steep in warm water and use a cloth to apply them—not soaking wet, but rung out and tucked between your legs like you would during your courses for a few minutes at a time. Say you have a headache and ask if I can come make something for you. That’ll give us a chance to get in a physical exam.”

Claire rose from the bed and carried the medical bag closer to the hearth, so she could use its light to find what she was looking for.

“Thank you, Mrs. Mackenzie,” Geneva said with a sincerity Claire had never heard from the young woman before but the formal edge was beginning to return. “Your discretion is appreciated.”

Claire merely nodded as she pulled the corners of a scrap of cloth around the little pile of dried herbs, twisting the ends and tying them with a bit of leftover twine from her bag. Then she carried it over and held it out for Geneva to take. “For ten years I believed my husband was dead and that I’d never again have what Jamie and I shared… But I was wrong and it’s still there and is even more precious for having thought it lost.”

Geneva looked up at her, the reluctance to hope raw in her eyes but its spark sinking in nonetheless.

“I wouldn’t entirely give up on your young man if I were you. Life has a way of surprising us and Mr…?”

“Daniel,” Geneva murmured.

“Ten years is a long time but I guarantee you’ll be in a different situation then than where you find yourself now.”

#Anonymous #;mod lenny #come hell or helwater #featuring: geneva dunsany #featuring: isobel dunsany grey

[thelallybrochlibrary]

A Shock to the System by @writtenthroughtime for @imagineclaireandjamie

Prompt: Hi, could You write a Fic where Jamie managed to avoid Geneva´s blackmailing (that never happened) and later she met Frasers and SEE THEM TOGETHER (gladly with bairns)? Love to see Claire give her (G) a hard time – kill that little brat!!!

Come Hell or Helwater by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

Prompt: Imagine that Claire had come back to the past early (with Brianna), and ended up taking a job at Helwater, at least temporarily, so that she could stay close to Jamie.

Crisis of Conscience by @betweensceneswriter

What if a conversation with her sister caused Geneva to have a change of heart?  An alternate view of 3 x 04.

Glimmer In The Shadow by @jules-fraser & @curlsgetdemgurls

Jamie Fraser spent the last 12 years thinking about his wife, his love – Claire. Their parting on the eve of Culloden would haunt him forever. Changed by events in her life, Claire returns to the past – the 18th century, searching for her husband but when she finds him at Helwater… things don’t go as planned.

Half a Person by @gotham-ruaidh for @imagineclaireandjamie

Jamie's thoughts as he's walking away from Helwater and thinks about how the ones he loves are taken from him or has to give them up.

Helwater AU by @mybeautifuldecay for @imagineclaireandjamie

Prompt: I just saw 3x03 and I wondered if you could tell a story about what would happen if Frank did agree to a divorce when Claire first suggested it.

I Love You Beyond the Brink of Madness by @redstarfiction

A canon divergence - Claire take Bree back to 18th Century during Jamie's time a Helwater.

Like Most Men by sinuous_curve

John came to Helwater in early summer, arriving on a morning in the middle of June. A warm, yellow sun shone overhead against a bright blue sky; the air felt pleasantly warm against his shoulders and he kept his horse to an easy pace.

Living Nightmare by @writtenthroughtime

Anonymous Asked: What if Geneva hadn't died? Would this change things at Helwater? At Frasers' Ridge?

Mac Ruaidh AU [Part 1] [Part 2] by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

Imagine a universe where Jamie got to keep William as his own, pretty please!

Master Me by @abbydebeaupreposts

Lady Geneva pushes all her groom’s buttons, Jamie returns the favor. Geneva is not evil, Jamie is not a saint. 18th century naughtiness ensues. [This is a Jamie and Geneva story. Claire is gone. Everything is consensual! READ THE TAGS Do not read it if it isn't your thing!]

My Dearest Jamie by @imagineclaireandjamie

A letter delivered by gypsies to Alex Mackenzie, known as Mac, a groom at Helwater in the South of England, to be kept in a secret place under his bed in the loft above the stables. 

Return by jimmytiberius

There was simply no protocol for how one said goodbye to a former Jacobite prisoner whom one had once propositioned, would now be leaving to work as a groom under a semi-assumed name, and who no doubt hated one’s guts most ardently. Or, Lord John leaves Jamie at Helwater.

The Gardener by @futurelounging

Isobel Dunsany is facing her family's requirement that she marry when she meets a mysterious gardener .

The Runaways by @takemeawaytocamelot

A re-working of the original Helwater storyline in which Jamie is much younger and works at Helwater to support his family. Claire, the daughter of Quentin Beauchamp, comes to visit once a year. Lambert and Dunsany are half-brothers, though they don't spend much time together. What might happen if Geneva's blackmail attempts were unsuccessful?

Whole Again by Honeypop 

After finding out that Jamie survived Culloden, and telling a 5 year old Bree about her real father, Claire decides to take the dangerous step of travelling back through the stones with her daughter. With a little help from Lord John Grey, they do what neither though was possible, and find each other once again.

Librarian’s Note: If you have written or read a piece of fan fiction that features the location Helwater, please let us know - we would love to add it to this list!

#outlander #fan fiction #*category #location #helwater

[scotsmanandsassenach]

First sorry if my english is bad its not my first language. Second thank u for posting dvd extras. Amazon dont deliver in my country so blogs like u r my only way to c stuff so thank u. Also whats the extended scene from of lost things? it was my fave epi with grate acting from Sam (Caits acting was best in epi 3 i believe). what was your fave?

Hello! Thank you so much for your message, Anon! Regarding that episode there are four scenes: three extended scenes and one 6-minute long additional scene featuring Lord John Grey asking Lady Isobel Dunsany to marry him. We believe this is the ‘never before seen’ scene they’re referring to. Sam’s acting was INCREDIBLE in Of Lost Things but I think that we would have to say Eye Of The Storm. That episode is just too moving!

[yellowfeather84]

Outlander, the time-travel show based on Diana Gabaldon's book series of the same name, is currently in production and almost half the episodes from the upcoming season have already been shot. Based on an interview Caitriona Balfe gave to a media outlet, the famous print shop scene is already in the bag.

Warning: This post contains possible spoilers from Season 3 of Outlander.

As those who have read Gabaldon's Outlander series of books already know, the print shop scene featured in Voyager, the third book, is when Jamie and Claire reunite after spending more than two decades apart, believing the other one is dead. In the television series, Jamie and Claire's meeting may not take place in a print shop, but that has not taken away the beauty of the scene.

"Of course, there will be a reunion," Balfe told The Wrap when asked about the reunion. "Which I think is really beautiful and it's been filmed really beautifully. It's very interesting, it's like, how do two people come together after not seeing each other for 20 years, after both believing each other have died, and how do you build something real again?"

Sam Heughan and Balfe filmed separately for most part of Season 3, as Heughan was busy wrapping up the Battle of Culloden and Balfe was tied up with filming flash forward scenes in Boston with Tobias Menzies, the actor who plays her husband Frank. "It's always hard when we're apart, actually, because she's a great person, great to come to work with, and a very good actress," Heughan told Vanity Fair back in October when asked about filming without Balfe.

Outlander Season 3 will see a lot of new cast members. Hannah James and Tanya Reynolds will play Dunsany sisters Geneva and Isobel, César Domboy has been cast as adult Fergus, Australian actor David Berry as Lord John William Grey, and Lauren Lyle as Marsali.

#outlander #outlander starz #outlander season 3 #outlander press #caitriona balfe #sam heughan

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Come Hell or Helwater - Part Eight

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

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Claire tried to wait up until Jamie came to bed but he’d sat near the fire trying to read. She didn’t want to push him to talk if he wasn’t ready, but she watched his attention drift, over and over again, to the fire in the hearth. Instead, she warned him about what staring like that would do to his eyesight and he brought his attention back to the page without saying a word. Checking on Brianna first, Claire finally gave up and crawled beneath the covers.

When he did finally come to bed, his restlessness woke her and kept her from more than dozing for near an hour before she rolled toward him to confront him.

“Out with it.”

Jamie sighed. “It’s just… I cannae help but wonder if Brianna… if this is where she truly wants to be.”

“Well, I can tell you right now it’s not where she wants to be,” Claire said as gently as her tired and filterless brain would allow. “She wants to be back in the place and the time that was home to her for so long.”

“Ye think she wants to go back to the way things were before she kent the truth about me,” Jamie guessed with aching resignation.

Claire rested her head on his shoulder and slipped her arms around him, holding him and comforting him. “Yes, but I don’t think it’s anything to do with you. Not really. She’s growing up and she’s having a difficult time of it right now. When you were her age, I’m sure there were times when you wished you could go back to how things were when you were younger—when everything seemed clearer and made more sense.”

He relaxed a little in her arms—not much, but a fraction that was just perceptible.

“I dinna ken how to feel myself these days,” he confessed. “I dinna like to see her suffer—and I hate feelin’ sae helpless to do anythin’ about it…”

“But?” Claire prompted.

“But I’m no sorry she’s here, nor that she kens the truth.”

“The truth about you or the truth about Frank?” Claire mused with a hint of her own pain.

“No that he deserves it but if it meant she wasna hurtin’ so, I’d as soon she didna ken the sort of man he turned out to be,” Jamie muttered, holding Claire tighter. “I’m sorry I ever sent ye back and trusted ye to him. He didna deserve either of ye.”

“And now he has neither of us. And, with time, Bree will heal. Time and love.” Claire pressed a kiss to Jamie’s neck and moved her hands down his back, a maneuver that forced him to move his own arms and hands further down along her body. His fingers began to absentmindedly massage the flesh of her arse.

“What am I supposed to say to her?” Jamie asked in a whisper of doubts. “It’s no an easy life she’ll have in this time, to say nothin’ of this place. I cannae leave when I want, nor go where I wish… Ye cannae even use your proper names on my account.”

“Time and love,” Claire repeated. “You’ll figure it out. I’m still figuring it out. But you said once that what we don’t know we’ll learn together.”

Jamie’s mouth ticked up at the corner briefly but then his expression softened and saddened. Claire watched him swallow with difficulty.

“I cannae help but worry that one day she’ll decide she’s had enough of bein’ here and she’ll go back,” Jamie murmured. “After wishin’ ye both here for so long… it doesna seem possible it’ll last.”

“Then stop thinking about it,” Claire whispered, pressing herself against him. “Stop thinking period. You need to relax or you’ll never sleep tonight. But… if you’re not going to be sleeping… I can think of a few things you can do instead of thinking.”

Jamie grinned and rolled onto his back, pulling her along with him so her weight kept him grounded and her thighs fell open on either side of his, rucking up her shift so the soft silk of her brushed against him.

“Ye’re volunteering to do my thinkin’ for me?” he teased.

“I have no qualms telling you exactly what to do,” she replied, her breath tickling his ear.

His fingers dug more purposefully into her buttocks as he began sliding her up into a better position. Her hair brushed his face as she leaned down to kiss him.

There was no thinking when she kissed him like that. There was consciousness of anything except that what he tasted was unequivocally her, the warmth and weight in his arms was her, the scent climbing up his nostrils was them.

Because he wasn’t thinking, he didn’t place the sudden pounding that he heard.

But Claire did.

She froze, her head whipping up to look at their closed bedroom door. She scrambled off of him and grabbed at the blanket to cover him while she threw her shawl around her shoulders and listened.

Another pounding, this time at their door.

Claire eased it open and he noticed the flash of Brianna’s hair as she poked her head in.

Jamie’s head was beginning to clear and thought return as Claire opened the door wider and spoke to someone else on the other side. Her tone was reassuring but also serious, her subsequent movements organized and practiced.

“What’s happenin’?” he asked, sitting up and blinking. “Who is it?”

“Lady Isobel’s come to fetch me to the house,” Claire explained as she skipped her stays and various other support garments, going straight for her outer skirt and a bodice. “She says something’s happened to her sister but she’s not sure what—only that there’s blood and it needs to be kept quiet.”

Jamie was out of bed and across at Claire’s side, helping her find her things in the darkened room.

“Do ye need me to come wi’ ye? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Stay with Bree,” Claire requested, reaching up to cup his cheek in her palm, run her thumb lightly over his cheekbone. “And get some sleep. I’ll be back before dawn.”

She slipped out to the main room of their cottage and Jamie followed her. He gave Isobel a nod before realizing he shouldn’t be standing before her in just his shirt. But the lass was too dazed and worried to even notice. She watched Claire grab her cloak and throw it over herself and the medical pack she carried then slip into her shoes.

“Lead the way,” Claire instructed, snapping Isobel into action and following her into the night.

Brianna stood at the door for a moment watching them go while Jamie shuffled into his discarded pair of breeks. He went to stand behind Brianna, looking out into the dark though he could no longer make out the shapes of either Claire or Isobel and it was only the night sounds of the yard and the horses in the nearby stables that reached his ear.

“Ye dinna seem surprised by Miss Isobel showin’ up in the night,” Jamie remarked.

Brianna looked up at him for a moment then pulled back toward him so she could close the door and head back to bed.

“I wasn’t expecting her,” Brianna said. “But I’ve seen Mama leave to help someone sick plenty of times.” Jamie stayed where he was but turned to watch her climb onto her cot and wriggle back beneath the blankets. “Daddy used to try to unplug the upstairs telephone so it wouldn’t wake me up but Mama complained that even if she woke up when the one downstairs rang, she couldn’t use the phone upstairs if it wasn’t plugged in and that it defeated the purpose.”

“Did it bother ye that she would go like that?”

Brianna shrugged. “I sometimes wished I could go with her. Especially…” But Brianna shook her head. “Nevermind. Goodnight.” She rolled over to face the wall, pulling the blankets up around her shoulders.

Jamie slipped over to her cot and sat on the floor beside it, not wanting to unsettle her by taking a seat right next to her.

“I always wish to go wi’ her,” he confessed. “I wish to see her safe to the sickbed and for her to have my help if she needs it—though, there are many cases where she’s said I’d be a hindrance more’n a help.” Brianna rolled onto her back again and turned her face toward him. “It’s the not knowin’ when she’ll be back tha’s always been hardest. At night like this, wi’ the way Miss Isobel was lookin’—all scared and like somethin’ terrible’s happened—tha’s when it’s hardest.”

“It was usually accidents if she got called in the night. Or something bad happened to a patient she operated on earlier in the day. When I got older, those were the worst. I could tell when she answered the phone and they said why they needed her. She had a special look when it was someone she’d already treated… kinda sad and… like maybe she worried she’d done something wrong,” Brianna shared.

Jamie nodded. “It’s no easy for her here when she kens she could do better—do more—were she still in yer time.”

It was Brianna’s turn to nod.

“I ken it’s no easy for you either,” Jamie said quietly. Brianna’s eyes darted to his but she relaxed when he smiled at her. “I’m glad ye’re here. The waitin’s easier when ye’ve company beside ye.”

She smiled at him. “You’re not gonna tell me to go back to bed?”

“No. We can just sit here if ye like. Or I can fetch the book and we can read a bit more—see if that puts us to sleep.”

“Won’t Mama mind if we read ahead without her?”

Jamie’s knees cracked when he pushed himself back to his feet so he could grab the book from its shelf and light a candle. “I dinna think so, but we could start a new one just the two of us, if ye’d prefer. We can see how far we get before we fall asleep or yer mam comes back.”

“I bet we can get through twenty pages,” Brianna said, propping herself up in the bed and yawning.

Jamie pulled up a chair and handed Brianna the candle to keep steady while he opened the new book to begin.

“Let’s aim for ten to start and see how we do. Now, do ye ken the tale of Don Quixote?”

#;mod lenny #come hell or helwater #featuring: bree #featuring: isobel dunsany grey

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Come he’ll or high water is excellent can you please write more I love it 🥰 please thank you 🙏🥰🥰🥰👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

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

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Come Hell or Helwater - Part Eight

Rain pattered against the window while Brianna sat at the table in the corner with Isobel working through a set of simple mathematics problems. She didn’t have the heart to tell Isobel that she’d mastered both multiplication and long division two years prior. Instead she worked her way through them slowly, allowing herself the fun of observing the others in the room while they thought she was thoroughly engrossed by the numbers on the page.

Brianna had found soon after her arrival at Helwater that she couldn’t help but like Isobel—she couldn’t have borne pretending she was so far behind in her studies otherwise. But Isobel’s sweetness could become grating if not for the presence of her sister, Geneva. It was Geneva who knew exactly how to push Isobel’s agreeableness to the brink, to coax a few less-than-kind remarks out of Isobel—and then offer reassurance that she hadn’t been so unkind as to require begging anyone’s pardon.

There was more to Geneva that Brianna found mesmerizing, however. Quiet moments when she managed a glance at the older girl and it was clear Geneva didn’t realize she was being watched. In those moments she looked the way Brianna had felt when Mama and Daddy had told her the great and terrible Truths of her life—first, that Daddy wasn’t going to live with them anymore, he was going to live with his special friend, Sandy, and, just a short time after that, when her mother informed her that Daddy wasn’t her “real” father. From what Brianna could tell, it was partly Geneva’s parents who were causing her to look that way, but not because they were breaking up. No, the lady Geneva was going to be married soon and anyone could see she didn’t want to get married.

But that was why there were beginning to be so many extra people at the estate. They were guests visiting for the upcoming wedding. Several older relatives of the Dunsanys had taken to sitting with Lady Dunsany in the main sitting room while the younger guests preferred to gather in the drawing room. It was in the adjoining library that Isobel was giving Brianna her lessons but the door was kept open so Isobel might pop in and make her necessary appearances every so often. Brianna thought Isobel perhaps preferred the quieter library to the group in the drawing room.

Brianna enjoyed peeking up at them through the doorway. She could only see a portion of one setee and a fragment of the floor to ceiling windows behind but Geneva was partial to planting herself on that setee and as the bride to be, she frequently had company beside her—usually one of the two British soldiers who had startled her mother in the forest that day they’d arrived. The younger of those two often turned to glance through the same open doorway at her, which always made her flush and look down at her paper. Or was he looking at Isobel? Brianna peeked up to see Isobel looking flustered as well, no doubt aware of the soldier’s piercing gaze.

Even if Brianna could convince herself that the young man was paying his attentions to Isobel, all it took was Geneva seeing her sister’s blush to throw a wrench in Brianna’s plans of going unnoticed.

“Isobel,” Geneva called rising from the setee and floating to the door. “Aren’t you going to join us? As the sister of the bride it’s part of your duties to help me entertain my guests,” she teased with a playful giggle and glance over her shoulder. “John, Hal, won’t you help me coax Isobel into joining us?”

Isobel sighed but smiled at Brianna before pushing herself up from her chair at the table. “You’re doing wonderfully,” Isobel assured her. “Keep working on this set of problems and I’ll be back shortly to check your progress.”

Brianna nodded and then watched as Isobel glared at her sister who stood in the doorway with a satisfied grin on her face.

“Really John, you must ask Isobel about her latest obsession with playing governess,” Geneva continued, the conversation still drifting in for Brianna to overhear since the door between the rooms remained open. “It’ll be something to keep her occupied when she no longer has me around to entertain her.”

Isobel spoke too quietly for Brianna to hear but from Geneva’s subsequent, “Oh come, I’m only playing,” she assumed the young lady had rebuked her.

“It is the curse of younger siblings to always be tormented by the older,” John remarked, lightening the mood even as he too scolded Geneva.

Brianna set her pencil aside and leaned forward over the table, straining to see if she could catch a glimpse of them but they must be standing near the fireplace. The rain outside was unrelenting in a spring that was already slow about taking root. That was one of the things about this time that Brianna found most frustrating and quietly terrifying—how cold it was without proper, modern heating and how afraid she was that she would get too close to the hearth or that she’d knock over a candle and go up in flames.

“I know Isobel’s attempts to improve the poor child arrive from the best of intentions,” Geneva assured the others and Brianna could hear the eye roll in her tone. “I just think that when it comes to the staff and their families, it’s not our place to interfere. They have their lives and we have ours.”

“And the fact that their livelihood depends upon our whims doesn’t matter?” Isobel challenged more vocally, clearly surprising the others.

Brianna rose from her seat and tiptoed closer to the door to hear better and maybe sneak a better angle through the door so she could see them while remaining hidden in the shadows. If she was truly lucky, there’d be a mirror on one wall that would let her watch their reflections—she couldn’t remember if there was a mirror in the drawing room though.

“So long as they’re paid for their services, I’m not sure I understand to what you might object,” the older one—Hal, Geneva had called him—said gently.

“They require decent pay to support their families,” Isobel agreed, “and sometimes they’re compensated in other forms—for instance, housing or their meals—but what about their other needs, especially for their children? Is it not our duty to guide them towards being productive members of society where their parents are either lacking the means or the opportunity?”

“And what makes you think the Mackenzies are lacking the means and opportunity?” Geneva countered. “Did you ask them if they wanted it when you asked for their permission? Shall we ask the little lady now?”

Brianna panicked for a moment as she heard Geneva’s footsteps crossing toward the door but her instincts quickly kicked in. She started walking for the door herself and nearly collided with Geneva.

“Sorry,” Brianna muttered, backing away. “I was just coming to ask Miss Isobel if she might excuse me to go help my mother. Miss Isobel should be spending her time with your company, not with me just now.”

“I don’t mind at all, really,” Isobel insisted but Geneva made a dismissive gesture, keeping her eyes on Brianna.

“The child is quite right, don’t you agree, John? It’s terribly rude of Isobel first to ignore your presence and then to ignore her young charge’s. If she had a nursemaid, we might turn her over to so she doesn’t inhibit her mother in her work. Should we engage one for her, Isobel?” Geneva asked, looking over her shoulder at her sister. “Would that be more of the means and opportunities that our hired servants are lacking? I suppose we’ll just have to keep an eye on her ourselves then. Come child,” Geneva turned back to Brianna with an overly sweet smile. “Join us in the drawing room and we’ll try not to bore you too terribly.”

Brianna stood her ground, staring expressionlessly at Geneva.

“Geneva…” Hal said quietly, stepping toward her.

“Quiet little thing, aren’t you,” Geneva murmured, her attention still fixed on Brianna. “Do you speak at all?”

“I’m ten, not two,” Brianna replied, unamused even as the color began to rise in Geneva’s cheeks. “And my mother always told me if I didn’t have anything nice to say I shouldn’t say anything at all. I’d rather spend my time somewhere I can have a conversation. Thank you, Miss Isobel, for the lesson. I’ll see myself out.”

Brianna kept her ears pricked for their reactions as she turned on her heel and went to the table to retrieve her things before exiting through the door at the side that led to the servant’s passage and from there down to the kitchen. She heard one stifled chuckle (Hal) and Isobel’s gentle, “You were the one who provoked her.”

The sound of a slight commotion drew most of the others back into the drawing room—a footman announcing the arrival of another guest.

“Daniel,” Hal exclaimed in joy. “It’s a miracle you made it in this weather. You ought to have stayed at your inn until it cleared.”

“If he did that he might not have arrived in time at all,” Geneva declared, brushing away the awkwardness of being put in her place by a ten-year-old girl. “The way it looks now it could rain through the next fortnight and my wedding’s one week away. He knew I’d never forgive him if he wasn’t here.”

“Always said Gordon was like a brother to me so I see it as my brotherly duty to make sure everything stays on schedule,” a new voice chimed in.

“Well you might’ve been as a brother to Gordon but you’ve hardly been a brother to either of his sisters,” Geneva objected with a laugh. “You haven’t written a word to either Isobel or myself in over a year.”

Brianna snuck one final peek through the door to the drawing room.

John, the soldier who had come walking through the field with her mother that day, was the only one watching her as she made her exit.

“Bree,” Claire gasped as her daughter barged into the cottage, dripping wet from her brief run through the rain from the main house. “For heaven’s sake, what are you doing here? I was going to fetch you back after your lesson was finished. You’re soaked to the bone.”

“Well you might wind up back there later treating their latest guest. Sounds like he rode a ways through the rain and I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes down sick from it,” Brianna said, shaking her hair like a wet dog.

“Sassenach,” Jamie called from the cottage’s back entrance. “Do ye have anything hereabouts we could eat? Thought it might be nicer to have our midday meal alone together rather than trek through the muck to the main house. And as Bree’s occupied there with Miss Isobel…”

Claire cleared her throat loudly soon after he began and spoke over him, “We’re in here, Jamie. Bree’s just got back too. We hadn’t addressed the subject of lunch yet.”

Jamie came around the corner, his face pink and dripping with the rain that had soaked his hair.

“Bree,” he said with a smile. “Is it wet enough for ye out there? I ken I must look and feel like a half-drowned cat.”

“Well it is raining cats and dogs,” Brianna remarked without enthusiasm.

“Why don’t you fetch some dry things from your trunk and change in our room,” Claire offered.

“I suppose we won’t be using it after all,” Jamie whispered in her ear as he brushed a kiss against Claire’s cheek.

“I had brought a leftover side of ham from the house after tending the cook the other day,” Claire continued, ignoring Jamie, “and there’s cheese I had set aside as well. We’ll see what kind of meal we can make with that and maybe it will let up enough tonight for a larger meal with the others at the main house.”

When Brianna had closed their bedroom door behind her to change, Claire turned into Jamie’s arms and stood on her toes to give him a kiss.

“When the wedding’s over and their guests have gone home, things will calm down enough that we’ll have a little more time for ourselves,” she whispered, pulling away from him as his hands drifted down to her backside. “Not just the two of us, but the three of us.”

“Except for when we have time just the two of us to get back to work on making that three of us into a four, aye?”

“Aye,” Claire smiled and blushed. “Though by my watch we’ve spent a fair bit of time working at that already.”

#the next installment will have more of Jamie and Claire (at least at the beginning) I promise #Anonymous #;mod lenny #come hell or helwater #featuring: bree #featuring: geneva dunsany #featuring: isobel dunsany grey #featuring: john grey #featuring: hal grey

[imagineclaireandjamie]

chechzooo asked: Will there be more of the story of John and Isobel on the Ridge? 

Murtagh on the Ridge AU (not written in chronological order) An alternate universe in which Murtagh survived Culloden and joined the others at Fraser’s Ridge

*listed in chronological order Claire’s return; first Christmas after Claire’s return; Company Part 1; Bree’s arrival; Jem’s birth; a skunk on the ridge

Company - Part 2 (a multi-parter within the Murtagh on the Ridge AU)

Claire was right about the measles. Isobel broke out in the rash before dark had fallen and John woke up with it. Ian held out the night in the stable but was shivering and feverish when Claire went to check on him and tend the animals in the morning.

She spent the next few days tending her trio of patients, which meant: brewing tea to soothe their headaches; keeping a pot of stew in the hearth’s embers for when they could only manage broth and a pot with milk-soaked bread beside it should they be able to manage a bit more; keeping them from overheating amid their fevers and the close atmosphere of the small cabin; washing their clothes when they slept soundly and the fevers began to abate.

It was exhausting but not unfamiliar work. As she fought to sleep sitting upright in the chair where she could hear anything should they need her, she wondered what she might do to get word to Jamie and Murtagh at the big house to tell them how everyone fared. They must be beside themselves with worry, especially the boy, William. But Claire couldn’t yet risk leaving them alone in the house for more than the time it took to feed the animals, milk the goats, and collect the chickens’ eggs. The horses were getting restless in their stalls, unable to get adequate exercise.

But John was beginning to come around, the disease having nearly run its course so that he would only have to fight through a few more days recovery and rebuild his strength. When he could stay conscious for more than two hours together and sit up in the bed beside Isobel, Claire would feel comfortable letting the horses into their paddock for a few hours and then corraling them back in just before dusk.

Young Ian was strong, too, and she was confident he would easily pull through. He slept soundly with Rollo curled up beside him on the pallet where it rested on the floor. If Ian stirred or needed something, Rollo whined to get Claire’s attention.

It was Isobel who concerned Claire most. Their journeying from Jamaica up along the coast and then across North Carolina had left her weary by the time she contracted the disease. She slept fretfully, the rash making it impossible for her to get comfortable. Her fever ebbed and flowed but stubbornly refused to break. Still, there was a quiet strength in Isobel Grey that refused to give up her hold on life.

“Will she survive?” John asked softly when he roused enough to begin to be company again. Claire had him move to the other side of the bed, between Isobel and the wall, so that Claire might reach her better. It helped to have another warm body tucked next to Isobel but being on the closer side of the bed made it easier for Claire to pull back the blankets when necessary to let in cooler air.

“I think so,” Claire responded. “I certainly intend to do all that I can. She had a long period yesterday when the fever quieted and I had hoped it would break but it rose again this morning. I think it’ll be the final push for both and if she can hold on a little longer, I think she’ll do it in once and for all. Then it’ll be a question of getting her through the recovery.”

John sighed, his breathing still shallow and unsteady. He reached over and lovingly brushed several strands of his wife’s hair back into place. “She’ll outlast it,” he asserted. “For Willie’s sake.”

Claire smiled. “The love of a mother for her child can accomplish many things,” she agreed.

“You sound as though you speak from experience,” John said with a hint of surprise.

“Jamie and I have a daughter,” Claire informed him, keeping her voice low. “It was for her sake that I went on when I thought Jamie was lost at Culloden. Love for her gave me strength… and still does. She’s grown now and living far away.”

“I saw what it did to Jamie to be parted from you. And the comfort having Willie nearby provided. You’re sure they’re safe from this measles?”

“If any of them were likely to show symptoms, they’d have been on the doorstep by now.”

Isobel began to stir and groan, perhaps roused by their conversation. Claire adjusted the blanket and dipped a cloth in a pail of cool water next to the bed, wringing it out before using it to bathe Isobel’s face and neck.

Isobel opened her mouth, her eyelids fluttering as she fought to wake.

“Mrs. Grey,” Claire called softly. “Mrs. Grey, can you hear me?”

“Where’s… Willie?” Isobel breathed.

“He’s safe, darling,” John told her.

“He’s… measles?”

“No. He’s been kept away to prevent him catching it. But I doubt they’ll be able to keep him away much longer. He’ll be wanting to see you,” John continued. “We’ve given our hostess a scare, but you’re doing splendidly.”

“Your husband is right, Mrs. Grey. You’re pulling through nicely. Your fever seems to be breaking at last,” Claire said with a note of triumph. “Rest more now but in an hour or so, I want to see if Mr. Grey and I can get you sitting up enough to take a bit of broth or perhaps a few bites of bread.”

“Course,” Isobel murmured. Her eyelids stopped twitching with the effort to open them and her body relaxed into the mattress once more. “Thank you… Mrs. Fraser.”

“You must call me Claire moving forward. We’re going to become good friends in the next few weeks while you recover and my good friends call me by my first name.”

“Claire,” Isobel said with a weak but warm smile. “Please… Isobel.”

“Which room do ye wish to bed down in tonight?” Jamie asked William as they put their tools away in the fading light. “We’ve tried each of the bedrooms on the second floor a time or two and I’m most grateful to have had yer help wi’ findin’ and fixin’ their deficiencies. Could I beg yer opinions on the rooms of the first floor, now? The parlor perhaps or the study?”

“What about the kitchen?” William suggested a little too eagerly.

Murtagh laughed. “There’s no food stored there yet,” he reminded the lad. “No beyond what we’ve managed in our snares and what’s left of our stores. It’ll be a few months yet ‘fore it’ll be worth sleepin’ in the kitchen.”

“Will you be putting books in your study?” William asked, turning to Jamie.

“Where else would I put them?”

“I didn’t know that you would have any. Even stopping in the cities and towns, there were few places to find books,” William observed. “Mother says we’ll need to send to England when we’ve settled.”

“It’s true there arena so many printers in the colonies here as there are in England or Scotland,” Jamie conceded. “But books are a necessary for man no matter where he makes his home, for they bring civilization to the wild and the wild to civilization.” He grinned at the lad who smiled—a happy sign after a day in which he’d let his fears and frustration boil over into a brief tantrum. With tools at hand it was simple enough for Jamie to help William channel that energy into something productive. He would wait until the Greys were well enough to serve as a distraction and then he could return to the house, pull the nails in the floorboards in the corner of Claire’s surgery, and hammer them home again in a straighter line. “Do ye have a favorite book?”

William blinked, surprised by the question. He pondered it while they finished tidying up and moved to the kitchen where Murtagh had stoked the fire in the hearth enough to roast the rabbit he’d prepared.

“I don’t think so,” William finally declared. “I’ve only read my lessons and lessons are not my favorite. Do you have one?”

“Aye. Robinson Crusoe by a Mr. Daniel Defoe. Tells the tale of a man shipwrecked who washes ashore of an island when all the rest were lost. He must find a way to survive it all, even when he believes he’ll never be rescued or see another livin’ soul again.”

“And is he ever rescued?” William perked up at the teasing in Jamie’s voice.

“Ye’ll find out if ye read it for yerself.” Jamie put his small tin plate down and wiped the grease off his hands before reaching for his pack. He had packed it with the other supplies they would need when formally left the cabin four days earlier. Having confirmed for Claire that he’d had measles as a child, she permitted him inside for a quarter hour before kissing him goodbye and telling him they were not to enter the house again for at least one week—unless William or Murtagh began showing symptoms. Jamie said a quick and silent prayer that his nephew and friends were well again, and that Claire was taking care of herself as well as the others.

“You brought it with you?” William asked, baffled.

“And why no?” Murtagh interjected. “We’ve time to pass and if he’s willin’ to read at us to pass it, I say proceed. It’ll either give us something new to think on or it’ll send us to sleep and I’ll no be mindin’ that either.”

William actually chuckled at that and the put upon expression Jamie adopted to play off Murtagh. It was a dynamic they’d found put William at ease.

“If tha’s the way ye’re goin’ to be about it, I dinna ken as I want to bother strainin’ my eyes wi’ the hearthlight. Ye can count yerself to sleep wi’ sheep,” Jamie informed Murtagh.

“Oh please read it, Mr. Fraser,” William begged. “I won’t be put to sleep by it, I promise. Please?”

Jamie bowed his head to William and said, “For you, lad, I shall be happy to oblige.”

#;mod lenny #Murtagh on the Ridge AU #chechzooo #well I was aiming to make this a two parter but I guess now it'll be at least three... #alternate universe #canon divergence #featuring: murtagh #featuring: john grey #featuring: isobel dunsany grey #featuring: william #featuring: young ian

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Murtagh on the Ridge - Company (Part 1)

So this fic was inspired and started after watching episode 3x04 but it quickly became clear that it was going to need to be broken up so I stalled in working on it. Not sure when I’ll get to the next piece of it cause there are a few other open AUs I have that I want to revisit first, but I will rewatch 3x04 at some point and my adoration for Isobel will renew the inspiration and I’ll write the next part.

— Mod Lenny

Previous installments of Murtagh on the Ridge: *listed in chronological order  Claire’s return; first Christmas after Claire’s return; Bree’s arrival; Jem’s birth; a skunk on the ridge

The day the letter from John arrived, Jamie took Murtagh aside while Claire kept Ian preoccupied in her new garden up at the site for the big house.

“A son?” Murtagh asked, his eyes wide with disbelief and awe. “And… Claire?”

“She knows,” Jamie confirmed. “He’ll be nearing ten now and I dinna ken that he’ll remember me. I didna use my real name when I was there and I don’t know what John and his wife will be telling him either. But he was beginning to resemble me when I left and I didna want ye too surprised when ye saw him.”

“And Young Ian? What will ye be telling him?”

“Nothing. He’s no likely to notice and as no one will be sayin’ anything to Willie I dinna see reason why they might to Ian.”

Murtagh bit his tongue.

As the day they were expected to arrive drew nearer, Murtagh and Ian took it in turns to walk down to see the path any visitors would need to tread and whether there was any sign of them. The new house wouldn’t be finished in time, though it was progressing faster serving as a way to pass the time and drive away any nerves that crept up in the waiting.

Ian spotted the figures first and cried out for his aunt and uncle. Jamie and Claire exchanged a nervous glance—he worried what she’d think of the lad, she worried what the lad would think of her.

One figure was in the lead—a woman.

“Lady Isobel,” Jamie greeted her, stepping forward and taking the horse’s reins before helping her down in an old and familiar way.

“Mackenzie—that is, Mr. Fraser,” she caught and corrected herself. “Thank you. I’m afraid there was a small mishap.” She looked back over her shoulder, amusement blending with concern and exhaustion in the creases between her eyes and at the corners of her mouth.

They looked back to where John Grey walked leading his horse and William’s up the path. William walked a few paces off to the side with obvious discomfort and a red face.

“Willie went to relieve himself and wash up a bit at the riverside but fell in and became lodged in the mud,” Isobel explained.

“Is he all right?” Claire asked. Her eyes squinted to take in each figure’s gait and assess for potential injuries.

“I believe the only thing injured is his pride. John was able to help him escape, though he nearly toppled in himself. I don’t believe you’ll want him dirtying—”

“A bath,” Claire agreed before Isobel could finish. “A hot bath and some fresh clothes will take some of the sting out of his embarrassment.”

“Less of an audience to his humiliation won’t hurt either,” Murtagh added, clapping Ian on the shoulder. “Come, lad. Yer Auntie Claire will be needing water fetched and heated.”

Ian grumbled quietly as he was marched away.

“Your nephew, then?” Isobel asked Jamie.

Claire had to nudge him to break his fixation on William and John’s advancing figures. He blinked and flushed.

“Yes, milady.” He bit his lip at the old habit but Isobel smiled again with amusement. “That’s Ian Murray—my sister’s youngest lad. The elder is my godfather, Murtagh Fraser. And this… is my wife, Claire.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Claire said, extending a hand to Isobel. “Jamie’s told me all about you and your son.”

Isobel’s eyes went wide and her gaze shot momentarily to Jamie. He gave her a solemn nod and Isobel visibly relaxed.

“Yes, Willie can be quite a handful. Willful and stubborn, like his mother—my sister,” she explained.

“Our daughter was the same way,” Claire commiserated.

“Your… daughter?”

“She’s grown and living in Boston now,” Claire said, leading Isobel to the house while Jamie waited for John and William so he could help with the horses. “Jamie and I were separated at the end of the war and naturally, I assumed the worst…” Claire launched into her sanitized version of her time away from Jamie.

John’s face was strained as he reached Jamie.

“My wife has a bath starting for ye, lad,” Jamie told William, whose head was turned away so he didn’t have to look anyone in the eye. Mud had caked to his legs up past his knees and there were smears of it higher still. It was difficult to tell given the lad’s coloring, but Jamie thought he spied some in William’s hair too and there were definitely flecks of it freckling his cheeks.

“Thank you, Mr. Fraser,” John said politely. “I’m sorry to start our stay with such an imposition.”

“Tis nae trouble. It’s giving my nephew, Ian, something to keep him from trouble just now.” Jamie addressed William, simultaneously relieved and disappointed by the lad’s refusal to look at him. Would he recognize him as the groom who had taught him to ride only a few years ago?

He looked to John.

“Why don’t you head up to the house with your mother,” John suggested. “Mr. Fraser and I will take care of the horses.”

Parting ways, as soon as William was out of earshot Jamie explained, “I’ve told my godfather but my nephew knows nothing. Have ye told the lad anything about me? Does he ken I’m Mackenzie?”

“We haven’t said anything, no,” John waited at the entrance to the barn while Jamie led the horses inside to the few free stalls. The small structure was already quite crowded. “Isobel and I didn’t want to say anything without consulting you first.”

“I think perhaps it’s best to leave it to the lad. If he kens me, fine but if not… There’s no harm done, either way. How long do ye think ye’ll need to stay?”

“We don’t wish to inconvenience you,” John began, smiling when he saw Jamie frowning and ready to object, “but I hope to stay a few days at least. The journey from Jamaica has been rougher than anticipated. I should like to stay put long enough for Isobel to rest and regain some strength. She is not made for so much riding.”

“Aye, as I remember it she preferred to visit the horses and watch them rather than ride.”

“Yes, it was Geneva who enjoyed a good ride,” John remarked then immediately went red in the face.

“Indeed. Well, ye’re welcome to stay and rest as long as ye wish,” Jamie asserted, eager to change the subject. “We’re nearly finished with the larger house so if ye stay long enough the cramped quarters will only prove temporary.”

“That close to finishing?”

“Shouldn’t take more than another week till it’s habitable.”

“I should like to see it when you have a chance.”

“I dinna think Claire will allow it until after ye all eat and rest a bit but later this afternoon ought to be fine,” Jamie agreed.

With the horses safely put away, watered, and fed, Jamie and John walked back to the cabin.

Murtagh and Ian sat on a bench just outside the door.

“Twas too crowded wi’ the tub and all,” Murtagh explained then grunted as he forced himself to his feet. “Sir,” he said with a nod to John.

John blinked at the sight of Murtagh Fraser. Years spent outdoors and well-fed had undone a great deal of the damage from his decade at Ardsmuir but it couldn’t remove the gray from his head and beard nor the slight cough perpetually rattling in his chest.

“Mr. Fraser,” John nodded.

“Welcome to Fraser’s Ridge,” Murtagh added.

“Does yer son ken how to hunt?” Ian asked. “I’d be happy to take him and show him around if ye dinna think he’d rather stay inside. D’ye think he’d like Rollo?” The large, wolf-like dog panted placidly at the young man’s feet.

John took a step back with surprise at the size of the creature.

“Let’s wait and let them settle for now,” Jamie warned his nephew. “If ye need keeping busy, I’ll find things for ye.”

“No, Uncle Jamie,” Ian was quick to shake his head.

Claire appeared at the door. “There’s room enough inside again and a meal near ready as well.” Ian was fast through the door at the promise of food and the three Frasers laughed putting John at his ease again.

Claire and John commanded most of the conversation at dinner with tales of their travels, Jamie contributing a few stories from his time in France and mentioning Fergus though he and Marsali were unlikely to visit with Germain still so young and Marsali with child again. Claire recommending they limit their exposure to others where and when they could.

“There have been a number of things making the rounds now more people are coming to settle the area,” she remarked. “I heard rumor there might be mumps or measles about.”

“Must ye talk of disease and pestilence over dinner?” Murtagh chided with a look of discomfort.

“Apologies,” Claire laughed. “You’re looking a little pale, Mrs. Grey. I hope it wasn’t anything I said. Murtagh’s right—I get carried away with medical talk sometimes.”

“No,” Isobel insisted, rising awkwardly. “I’m just tired from the journey. Is there somewhere I might lie down and rest a bit?”

“Of course. Allow me,” Claire rose too and guided her guest to the only real bedroom in the cabin.

“Ye wanted to see the other house,” Jamie said to John. “Why don’t the rest of us go on up there now and leave the cabin here quiet for Lady Isobel…”

“I think that would be a good idea. Come along, Willie. Let Mama have her rest.”

They were gone all afternoon, the inspection of the new structure turning to work on aspects more easily accomplished with the help of extra hands.

“It’s a beautiful bit of wilderness you have here, Jamie,” John remarked as they made their way back to the cabin. Ian was gleefully leading William on a merry chase through the underbrush while Murtagh trailed behind to be sure the lads didn’t stray too far from the path.

“We’re happy here,” Jamie agreed. “It’s not Scotland but it’s a similar charm and freedom to it…” He trailed off as the cabin came into view and he spotted Claire pacing in the yard looking for them. It wasn’t relief that washed over her face when her eyes fell on John.

“Mr. Grey,” she called, hurrying to intercept them. “I’m afraid your wife has taken ill.”

“Is it serious?” There was concern in his voice but he kept it low and glanced over his shoulder at William who remained oblivious.

“I’m afraid it might be. I can treat her and I shall do my best—it’s a fever now but with it might… My first fear is that it might be contagious so I don’t want to expose anyone unnecessarily. How are you feeling?”

“Tired and hot from the work but—”

Claire had reached up to look at his eyes, feel his head and throat.

“You feel feverish… and your glands are swollen,” she declared. “I’m going to put you under the same quarantine as your wife. Now, one at a time with the rest of you.”

She examined each in turn but Ian was the only other one she found troubling. He wasn’t feverish but she didn’t like the look of a few spots on his neck and back.

“I don’t want you in the house with the others while you’re not showing definitive symptoms, but I don’t want you around the others either,” Claire instructed.

“Then where am I to go, Auntie?” Ian whined.

“You can stay in the loft of the stable until you either get worse and can come into the house or prove unaltered and healthy and then you can go with the others.”

“And where are we to go?” Murtagh asked.

“How ready is the new house?” she countered.

“Finished enough to make a wee camp there,” Jamie said. “I dinna want to be far. I want ye to be able to reach us if ye have need.” He didn’t have to clarify what need she might have; none of the possibilities were reassuring just then.

Claire nodded in agreement and turned to John who had done as Claire asked and quickly segregated himself from the others.

“Willie,” he said, catching the confused boy’s attention. “You’re going to need to go with Mr. Fraser and…” he glanced awkwardly at Murtagh, “Mr. Fraser. They’ll take care of you until Mrs. Fraser says it’s safe.”

“You and Mama are going to get well, right?” he asked.

“I don’t suspect Mrs. Fraser is going to give us much choice,” John answered with a playful smile. Jamie chuckled next to Claire.

“Can I see Mama first?”

“I don’t think—”

“Aye,” Jamie interrupted. “Come here lad and I’ll show ye a safe way to see her.”

William followed Jamie around the side of the cabin. Claire caught onto his plan and headed into the cabin with John close on her heels. She gently roused Isobel from her light sleep and directed her attention to the window then crossed to pull aside the sheer curtain and revealed Jamie holding William up to peer through the open window.

“Willie,” Isobel smiled and weakly pushed herself up off the pillow.

“Mama!” Willie cried. “Papa says I have to go with Mr. Fraser until you’re well again.”

Isobel looked briefly to Claire who nodded.

“That’s right, darling. You’re going to behave and listen to him for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“I’ll take good care of your son,” Jamie promised solemnly.

“I know you will,” Isobel smiled.

#;mod lenny #Murtagh on the Ridge AU #featuring: murtagh #featuring: william #featuring: young ian #Featuring: Lord John Grey #featuring: isobel dunsany grey #canon divergence

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Come Hell or Helwater: Part Three

rbstep08 asked: Please add more of your AUs for your Helwater fic. I absolutely loved it!!!

Well... this is now a full-fledged multi-parter. Hope you all enjoy the ride I’ve got planned. 

~ Mod Lenny

Part One, Part Two

It took three days for the new living arrangements to be settled. At that point, Fergus left to return to Lallybroch. Jamie was apologetic, repeating none of Lord and Lady Dunsany’s ungenerous thoughts concerning the uselessness and/or unseemliness of a one-handed man as part of the serving staff.

Fergus merely shrugged when he learned that the Dunsanys did not consider him included in the agreement to take on the rest of their groom’s family.

“I am a man grown,” he told Jamie and Claire. “I do not need the caring of a child like Miss Brianna. There was enough to hold me at Lallybroch only a little while longer when Milady arrived. I shall return to see what more Mistress Murray and Mr. Ian need of me and then I think I will go to make my way to a city like Rabbie MacNab wishes to do soon.”

“Ye dinna plan to leave Scotland do ye?” Jamie asked, doing a poor job of hiding the concern in his voice. It would make sense for Fergus strike out on his own and perhaps now that he was grown he would wish to return to France, but Jamie would feel better to have the lad somewhere close by—somewhere that wouldn’t require boarding a sea-faring vessel if he were free to someday visit.

Fergus frowned. “The only one who could inspire me to leave Scotland is you, Milord, and it does not take a seer to know that that will not happen for some time.”

Claire embraced Fergus and thanked him for accompanying Brianna and herself on their journey.

“It has been a privilege to see the young man you’ve become,” she told him. “And I hope that we will be able to see you again before too long. You must promise to write to us and keep us informed of where you are and what you’re about when you get there.”

“I promise, Milady,” Fergus replied, a mischievous smile distracting from the color rising in his cheeks. “And it is perhaps a good thing for me to go since you are to be the Mackenzies here. There is only one man I care to call ‘Milord’ and it is not that man Dunsany.”

Jamie clapped Fergus on the shoulder, speechless, and then drew him in for a hug. “Thank ye, son… for everything ye’ve done these years. I’m proud of ye and bless the day I found ye pickin’ my pocket on the streets of Paris.”

Jamie and Claire stood leaning into each other, Brianna refusing to stray too far from her mother, as they watched Fergus mount the horse he’d ridden from Lallybroch. The second horse Claire and Brianna had ridden would remain behind at Helwater, Lord Dunsany providing small compensation to send with Fergus. “We can use another horse for simple errands,” Lord Dunsany had said. “It will save the carriage horses, keep them more presentable, which Lady Dunsany will appreciate.”

There were several other matters Lady Dunsany had reportedly given her opinion on, though Claire and Brianna had yet to formally meet the lady of the house.

Claire’s examination of Mirabella had been brief. It was clear to her the maid suffered from anemia so Claire’s first stop had been to the kitchens to set about adjusting the woman’s diet. It would take a little while for the effects to be seen but Mirabella was already feeling a difference. Add to that the stitches Claire had administered to a kitchen maid who’d inadvertently sliced her hand and the Dunsanys were convinced of Claire’s usefulness in at the very least treating their staff and keeping them in working order.

One of a handful of small cottages near the house had been designated for the Mackenzies, the servants’ quarters in the house being both too small for the family and inconveniently placed for Jamie’s duties in the stables. During the two days it took for the maids to clean and prepare the cottage, Claire and Brianna were given an empty maid’s room to share while Fergus stayed with Jamie and the other grooms in the barn loft.

Claire and Brianna helped with the cottage, washing the windows, walls, and floors of several years’ worth of dust, then airing out the few linens and husk-filled mattresses Lady Dunsany was willing to provide until Claire and Jamie had an opportunity to purchase replacements of their own. Taking their meals at the house with the rest of the servants, Jamie and Claire had not had real time alone together since Claire’s arrival. There was so much they needed to discuss and little of it could be spoken of with Brianna around, let alone the Helwater household and staff who didn’t even know their true names.

Having seen Fergus off that third morning, Jamie gave Claire a peck on the cheek before returning to work plowing one of the far fields. Claire and Brianna went to take care of the finishing touches on their cottage and discovered Lady Dunsany’s daughters hovering near the door.

“We wanted to see what luck you were having with the cottage,” the younger daughter, Isobel, said with a smile. Geneva was tight-lipped as she watched Claire open the door and usher them inside.

“It’s a work in progress,” Claire said, running a hand over the seats of the chairs to double-check them for dust before encouraging the ladies to sit. “But it’ll do nicely once we’ve settled. If you’d be so kind as to extend our thanks to your mother and father again…”

“Mother’s pleased with Mirabella’s treatment thus far and will be calling on you to treat one of her headaches before too long,” Isobel assured her. “I know Father’s been pleased with your husband’s work as well and would have been loathe to lose him if arrangements for you and your daughter hadn’t been possible.”

“We’re all just relieved to be together again, whatever the circumstances—and these are far better than what we might’ve hoped.” Claire knew she would have to be careful what she said and how she said it around the young ladies of the house. They were young enough—and Geneva had certainly been forward enough—that Claire might be inclined to speak her mind and scold them, but to do so would be dangerous. She would need to have a few words with Brianna about the matter too.

“How old are you, then?” Isobel turned to Brianna who stood beside her mother. Claire could sense the nervous tension in Brianna but the way she steadily held Geneva’s stare yielded nothing of it to those unfamiliar with her.

“I’ll be ten in November,” Brianna said, turning her gaze from Geneva to her kind and smiling sister.

“Have you had much education, dear?”

Brianna looked to Claire, uncertain how to answer.

“She’s had a bit of schooling, yes. I’ll take on her education between the duties I’m given by your parents,” Claire explained.

“Would it be too forward if I were to offer you my time and services on the matter?” Isobel requested, surprising all three of the others and earning an array of expressions that made her pale cheeks color sweetly. “I have maintained correspondence with my former governess and would consult with her, of course, as well as you and Mr. Mackenzie.”

Claire looked to Brianna whose eyes went wide with fear and self-consciousness.

“I’ll discuss it with my husband and Bree and we’ll let you know,” Claire replied carefully. “It’s a generous offer and we greatly appreciate it, whatever the decision we arrive at may be.”

“Well, we’d best leave you to finish your tidying here,” Geneva finally spoke as she rose from her seat. “It’s been a pleasure,” she added over her shoulder as she made a swift exit.

Isobel scrambled, awkward and flushed at the abrupt end her sister had made to their visit.

“I have enjoyed this and apologize for swooping in on you unannounced. You must allow me to make it up to you soon—join me for tea? When it’s convenient for you, of course. We make our calls on Tuesdays but otherwise we’ll just be keeping one another company. Your presence would be a welcome one. Just leave word at the kitchen when you like.”

“Thank you, Miss Dunsany,” Claire said, habitually moving to shake Isobel’s hand and then drawing back before the young woman could notice. “Likewise, you are welcome to join me here if you ever wish for a change of scenery and conversation.”

Isobel smiled and nodded before finally exiting.

Jamie was just on the other side of the door, smiling politely and waiting for the sisters to depart before slipping inside with a roll of the eyes and a sigh of relief when Claire slipped her arms around his waist and tilted her head for a kiss.

“You smell like horse,” she whispered.

“And you smell like yer dried herbs,” he whispered back, sniffing at her hair.

“Bree helped me to pick and hang some to help clear the air in here,” she explained. “Now go wash and change so we can go to supper and get back here for bed.”

The grin that lit Jamie’s face and the knowing hunger in his eyes made Claire’s knees go weak. She peeked at Brianna who had slipped to a corner and buried her face in one of Jamie’s books.

“When the lass is abed,” he said, ducking his head so his breath tickled her ear. “When she’s abed and I have ye to myself at last…” He inhaled sharply and the quivering in Claire’s knees moved higher, settling low in her belly.

“Wash,” Claire reminded him. “Then food… Then bed.”

“As my lady wishes,” he replied with a slight bow.

#;mod lenny #come hell or helwater #canon divergence #featuring: geneva dunsany #featuring: isobel dunsany grey #featuring: fergus #featuring: bree #it was getting long so the sexytimes and quality reunion conversations will wait till next installment