#i mean yes hugh grant kisses a man twice. and yes he beats up someone who was homophobic to him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imagineclaireandjamie · 5 years

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On Foreign Ground: Part Two.

gastairfad said: Interesting…will there be more?

Though it’s been hiding in my drafts for a long time; yes! You can read Part One - HERE.

Enjoy.

On Foreign Ground - Part Two:

“Da,” she enquired, following his steady footsteps down the hall, “what do you know about the Frasers?” She could tell by the pregnant pause that passed between them and the tiny twitch in his eye that the answer was not going to be a pleasant one - but she stood her ground nonetheless. Her interest had been piqued in the glade and she needed to learn more about her secret kiss - or, more so, the person to whom she had given it too. “Do not,” he began, a measure (false) calm falling over his words like a thin veil - one that threatened to tear at any moment, “mention that name in this house again, Claire. Am I clear?” “Yes father.” She parroted back without meaning to keep her promise. “It is forbidden.”

It had been nearly a year since her encounter on the Grant/Fraser borders and she’d saved asking about Jamie for so long that even the mere thought of him sent goosebumps across her skin. But recently her father and mother had been planning her future and she’d begun to have her freedoms taken away from her and the vivid images of her forays in the wild we becoming dull and lifeless right before her eyes.

“Ye should be dressed and in the hall before dinner today, am I clear Claire?”

Her stomach plummeted at the words and she immediately knew what was in store for her - why the servants were running around madly trying to get the place cleaned and prepared for the occasion.

“Father…”

Turning to look at her, Malcolm Grant ground his teeth together in displeasure. The air in the corridor suddenly vanished, making it incredibly hard to breathe. “I expect ye’ll be on yer best behaviour tonight, Claire.I ken yer brothers think yer smart mouth is amusing - but I dinna. Especially no’ when we have a meeting of clans...and neither will yer mam.” —

She waited until it was dark to slip away, her heartbeat echoing in her ears as she slipped into the undergrowth. The evenings encounter was still crawling across her chest as droplets of water caught on her dress as she led the scene.

As suspected, the party had been a rouse - an undercover attempt to ‘introduce’ Claire -formally- to her betrothed. And it had been horrific. The man was twice her age and it had emerged, quite quickly, that the whole arrangement was to be a business deal between the clans. Stood between her older brothers, Claire had clutched the hand of Hugh Macpherson only to see something entirely untoward in his eyes. Something felt off a moment later when he disappeared with her father out of the hall. She wanted to follow them but as she loitered along the winding corridors, she heard only snippets of their conversation and it was enough to turn her blood to ice.

Not wishing to hear anymore she’d fled, hoping to free her mind of the half-indistinguishable conversation. Hoping that something might make sense once she was surrounded by open air and not the close stench of intoxicated clansmen.

With her head clouded, she failed to notice the ravine and tripped -falling forwards with her hands outstretched- until she landed somewhat softly with her head buried in the chest of someone unknown.

“I remember ye, Claire.” The stranger whispered making the breath catch in her throat.

“Jamie Fraser…” she whispered, pulling her feet out of the leaves beneath her so that she could gain control of them once more. “Is that you?”

“Aye. It isna every day a lad catches a pretty lassie in the middle of the night.”

“I suppose I might consider myself a damsel in distress,” she muttered, pushing herself away from his chest and brushing the twigs and mud from her skirts, “it’s truly lovely to see you again, Jamie.”

“Will yer parents no’ be missing ye?” He stated, a glint of humour alight in his eyes.

“Their heads are so filled with themselves,” she scoffed, the breath twirling from her lips and catching on the cool evening air as if smoke was billowing around her - she looked indigent, her cheeks pinked in anger which only made Jamie stand closer as she continued her rant, “that I don’t think any of them will realise I’m missing.”

“I’ve a fire started just a wee walk from here - do ye want to come and sit? Ye could tell me what’s caused ye to run away at such an hour.”

“Do you have some whisky?” She asked, dipping her head and wrapping her shawl (which had mercifully stayed put during her fall) tighter around her shoulders.

Chuckling, Jamie tapped the sporran that rested against his hip. “Aye, I have something stored away to calm yer nerves.” Winking, he turned on his heel and pushed the low hanging branches aside, waiting for her to pass through them as he pointed towards the flickering light.

Sitting beside him on the ground, Claire rested her hands on her lap as Jamie made himself comfortable, reached inside his sporran and passed her the amply sized hip-flask. “Thank you.” She sighed, unclasping the lid and taking a rather long swig of the pungent liquid. “I’ve been coming here every month for the last few months in the hopes I’d run into you again,” she began after she’d finished drinking, closing her eyes as she passed the flask back, “when I hadn’t seen you in a while I assumed I might never see you again.”

“Ye’ve missed me then?” He returned, warming his hands on the open flames. When it was clear she wasn’t going to respond, he took a sip of his own drink and continued. “My father sent me to study in Paris but I thought about ye often - about the kiss...and if I’d ever see ye again.”

“I’ve been promised.” She spat out, avoiding his gaze as she felt him turn towards her. “They’re drinking, celebrating and patting themselves on the back, though I shouldn’t think they’ll be sentient for much longer.”

“Do ye love him?”

“Love? I barely know him. He’s only interested in--” stopping mid sentence, she could taste the bile rising along the back of her throat as she recalled the jibes he’d made at her expense. “His last wife died not long ago - he has no heirs to take over as clan leader should he pass and it would bond the Grant’s and the Macpherson’s in trade.”

“And what are you interested in?” Jamie whispered, his hand slipping behind her back as she shifted closer to him.

Taking a deep breath she laid her head on his shoulder, her eyes closing briefly as she inhaled the soft scent of him. “The freedom to make my own choice.” She returned, finally. Placing her hand on his knee -palm facing upwards- she let her words hang in the air as she waited patiently. ‘Though I knew in my heart that it was unlikely,’ she considered adding until the warmth of him engulfed her and all conscious thought left her mind.

“Maybe ye can still have that.” He said quietly, whispering into her hair as he felt the weight of her increase, her body becoming heavy as sleep began to claim her. — She awoke suddenly with the heat of the small fire still warming her back where the homespun blanket had slipped from her shoulders. Her front was suspiciously warm and it took her just a moment to realise that she’d fallen asleep wrapped in Jamie’s arms. The morning air was fresh around them, cold enough that it caused Claire to shimmy closer instead of shrinking further away. Decision made, she inhaled a shaky breath and nudged her nose against his. She could feel him, the weight of his body angling slowly towards hers as he slept on, and she knew it wouldn’t take much to bring them infinitesimally closer. Sleeping was one thing, she decided, her head and body arguing silently as the morning wore on, but contact was almost definitely another. Angling her leg upwards, she cocooned herself, her thigh now resting down the length of his as she considered the multiple options that lay open in front of her. Jamie was still asleep, but he was twitching more now, the call of the birds pulling him from his slumber. She could just slip away; take her leave and rush home to explain herself to her father and mother leaving him to wake alone. Or she could stay. Shifting her hips, the thick material of her skirts slid further up her leg, exposing her calves and connecting them - skin on skin. The sensation of the fine hairs on his legs (that and the combination of the heat of him) made her chest tighten for just a moment as her fingers gripped the coarse fabric of his jacket. Wanting was one thing, her addled mind argued, but taking, *having*, was another thing entirely. Locking her lips, Claire thought back to all the times her mother had discussed ‘appropriate conduct for a lady’ with her and she knew how many rules she was breaking - simply by being here - but she found she didn’t care half as much as she should. Her father’s words echoed in her mind for just a brief moment as his body called her forwards. But instead of ‘*don’t do it...*’, the wisps on the wind transformed, their faint whispers muddling the words in her mind - removing the negative and leaving her only with the positive. Do it. It wouldn’t take much, she realised, one small movement forwards, and they’d be one flesh. The fire behind her crackled, sending out a reverberation of sound that broke the tension she’d built in her own mind, propelling her forwards and causing Jamie to roll onto his back. Almost instantly, Claire had hitched her skirt, wrapped her legs around Jamie’s waist and, with her heart still pounding out a merciless beat, thrust her hips against him. Having been close enough before to feel him, she knew what would become of them should she react to their body’s calls for one another -though she had never performed the act before. It was primal, the urge, so much so that all fear of coupling had dissipated on the wind as she’d allowed instinct to drive her. Crying out, a slice of pain lanced through her as they connected, the centre of her burning for a moment as she pressed him inside her - deeper - until they met, pelvis to pelvis. The force of it shocked Jamie awake and he called out in incomprehensible Gaelic as his hands took hold of Claire’s waist and his eyes opened enough to comprehend what was going on. “Christ...” he muttered, the intense pressure of their joining pinning him to the ground as pleasure and shock swirled around him in a paralysing mist. He knew it wouldn’t take long as she moved herself delicately over him, the primal call of it driving her onwards. Feeling his lower stomach clench and his balls tighten, he gazed up at her as he choked out a moan - holding on as she flopped forwards. He felt the dampness between her legs as sentience found its way back to her. The morning sun had now completely risen, throwing shafts of light through the trees whilst leaving a slight chill in the air. Everything seemed sharper around her as Jamie pulled her into his arms, shimmied himself upwards and carried her towards the small brook that wound through the base of the trees to the left of where they’d fallen asleep. Washing in silence, she allowed him to bathe her, his hands slipping delicately between her legs with the moist cloth as he wiped the evidence of his presence from her skin. “I’m sorry.” She whispered - not because she felt he needed her to say it, it was clear he wasn’t angry at him from the small smile that played softly on his lips as he worked, but because she needed to break the silence. “I didn’t even ask if you were promised.” “I think ye ken verra well who my heart belongs to, lass.” He returned, leaning to kiss the top of her knee as he pulled her skirts down to cover her once more. “So ye should only say sorry should ye wish to take it back.” “You know I don’t.” She sighed, hormones racing around her body making it impossible to think clearly. “But I didn’t give you a choice, and for that I am truly sorry.” “Come.” He coaxed, holding his hand as he guided her back to their clearing, the fire having finally extinguished itself as morning ebbed slowly onwards. “I have to get back.” Collecting her shawl from where it lay in the dewy grass, she shook the forest detritus from it and placed it over her arm. “Before my father sends out a search party for me.” Reticence showed in her voice as she let Jamie’s fingers linger against her for just a best longer before pulled herself away. “The less I have to explain the better.” She mumbled watching as the light sparkled in his eyes. “I dinna regret it.” He said clearly, answering her unspoken question. “But I didn’t give you much of a choice...” stepping backwards, she dipped her head shyly as she realised how forceful she had been. She’d been the instigator, the man, channelling masculine energy in that moment to scratch the itch he’d unwittingly ingrained within her. Pushing her against the nearest tree, he pressed his chest forcefully against hers, his mouth seeking her own as his tongue stole the very complaint of her actions from her lips. The kiss was punishing; long and exquisite as he forced her legs apart and held her steady. Pausing for just enough time to allow her to catch her breath, he placed one hand under her chin and kissed her again - softly this time. “Does that make you feel better?” He whispered. “For it to me who gives ye no choice? Though I fear neither of us does, aye?” It had taken all of her willpower not to ask him, beg him to take her again right there. She ached with a need so great that she was forced to silence - unable to even return one word in response to him as she squeezed her eyes shut and rested her forehead against his. “I’m always here, Claire.” He murmured against her mouth, the kiss still evident on her bruised lips. I am promised to you, no matter what ye decide.”

#;Mod MBD #On Foreign Ground #Jamie X Claire #Claire is a Grant AU

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