#jamie was so nervous for him to enjoy the gift i actually wanted to die | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweeethinny · 3 years

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Decisions

@raypotter asked me for a story where Harry got hurt and Ginny and the kids were relieved that he was alive.

It got very sentimental, a lot more than I expected, it has some descriptions of blood, so be warned

AO3 or bellow the cut :)

There was a lot of blood. On his hands, on his face, on his neck, near his ear.

Ginny took a deep breath when she saw it, as the healer ran to the closet looking for something she didn't know what it was, while another seemed to do something to keep Harry breathing.

She wanted to vomit.

It was a normal day like any other, the kids sent their letters, James was fine and had done well on the Transfiguration exam, Albus was recovering from a knee injury caused by some animal in Hagrid's class, and Lily was glad that she was going to start taking Divination classes. It was a normal day.

Teddy stopped by Ginny's office for them to talk, as they did almost every week, and he told her he was planning to travel to Spain to study about some rare animal that had appeared there, and Ginny made him leave only after her promotion party, because she wanted him there.

Harry had gone out on a field mission last night in order to pick up Jonas, who had been injured, and Ginny was having lunch with Luna at a muggle mall they liked.

It was a normal day, until Ginny received an owl with an urgent call to St. Mungo's.

First she thought of the children, Teddy could have been poisoned by some animal, or one of the children could have been seriously injured at Hogwarts and it had been preferable to send them to St. Mungo's. Then, she thought of her parents, Molly had been complaining of a pain in her hip, and Arthur didn't look so good on the last visit, did he? Or it could be her brothers.

Ginny didn't expect to see Harry there. It had been so long since he'd last needed to visit the hospital, maybe since James was born, which was when he'd been twice as careful, always afraid something bad would happen and he'd die. And after he had become Chief Auror, Harry had gone on to do far fewer field missions, so hospital visits were rare.

Her heart sped up, that dread that came whenever she saw someone in her family hurt, a gift the war had given her.

The healer opened the door for her when he saw her standing there, a gentle smile on her face. "He'll be fine, it's a deep bruise, but we've got everything under control."

Control? Ginny didn't think that could exist when there was that much blood coming out of a person.

"Is he breathing?" Ginny muttered, terrified.

'Yes, with a little difficulty, but it's just because of the pain, we'll stabilize him.' She smiled at her. “I'll ask you to wait outside until we've got everything settled.” The woman didn't wait for an answer, closing the door and running to do as some other healer asked.

What was she supposed to do? Should she call the kids? Should she call her mother? She couldn't stand there alone, because if something happened… No, nothing would, Ginny thought, Harry will be fine, he'll get out of this one, it's probably more dirt than actually hurt.

They will laugh about it later.

[...]

"Ginny!" Teddy called, startled, barely seeming to blink when he found her in the waiting room. He didn't look like that smiling boy from earlier now, his brown eyes glaring at her as if he expected to hear the worst news at any moment, his shoulders stiff. ‘Where is he? He is fine?'

'I'm waiting, the healers said they need another half an hour, apparently the spell was stronger than they thought, and-' Her eyes filled with tears, her hands trembling desperately again, the image of a bloodied Harry kept flashing in her mind, along with his being buried. 'The kids are coming, I know he'll be fine, but…'

"I know, I know, you did it right." Teddy hugged her, but as much as he looked like he wanted to keep her calm, he looked even more nervous. ‘Do you already know what hit him?

'They don't want to say until they're sure, but one of the Aurors who was with him said it's dark magic.' Ginny sniffled, running her hands through her hair as if to keep from starting to cry again, her heart pounding desperately in her chest. . 'I said he's starting to get too old to take that risk, Teddy, I said before he can save the world he needs to be a father, be a husband, but he doesn't listen!' .

'Nothing will happen to him, Gin, nothing, he'll be fine, you'll see, he hasn't even started to get into trouble with Albus yet!' Teddy pulled his own hair, pacing the empty room they had arranged for her to wait.

It was bad enough in that situation without a bunch of onlookers on top.

"I mean, he hasn't even seen me marry yet, he—" Teddy clapped a hand over his mouth, trembling as if just the thought of it destroyed him. It destroyed Ginny too. ‘Will the kids be long?‘

'Probably not, I spoke to McGonagall and informed her how serious the situation was and that I wanted the kids here with me, and she told me she would send them as soon as possible… Lily was doing some work with Hagrid, I don't know, but they shouldn't be long.” Ginny took a deep breath, trying to focus on the situation now and not the memories of war, the dead bodies, the destruction.

They weren't in a war anymore, everything would be fine.

‘Have you warned anyone else?

'No, I didn't want to make a big fuss, if not, we wouldn't have peace in the next few hours of so many journalists who would come here to find out what happened to Harry, and I'm not exposing him like that.'

"Not at all." Teddy nodded, looking out the window that faced a square, seeming to calm down after watching the people walking around below. It had soothed her, at least. "He told me he was thinking about retiring."

"He told me too." Ginny sat back in that uncomfortable chair, looking at the door and wanting someone to come over and say it was okay. 'He's getting tired, he's not 20 anymore, he's already 40… I mean, he's still in shape, Harry probably still lifts more weight than me, but the stress with the younger Aurors isn't paying off . They probably stress him out more than the kids themselves.'

"These days I went to lunch with him, and it was like he was running a daycare center." Teddy chuckled, taking a seat next to Ginny, and she was glad he was there with her. "And he gets along well with kids, but I don't think it can be easy to manage more than 20 of them."

‘And he’s having problems with some laws, and with all the bureaucracy, and I think that this is making him completely unhappy. A few days ago I thought he was going to have a heart attack after having to solve the same problem a third time.” She sighed.

Before Teddy could say anything, the fireplace glowed and three loud, fluttering voices filled the room, one Lily jumped out first, looking desperate, her glasses askew on her face and her jacket smeared with dust, running towards Ginny. 'Mum! What happened? Where is Daddy?'

Albus, who didn't look at all like that calm boy he always did, pushed James off the fireplace and jumped too, barely giving Ginny time to think. He had rosy cheeks, green eyes staring at her and Teddy, as if he was trying to read the expressions on their faces to hear the news. 'Is he going to die?'

"Don't be an idiot!" James interjected, stepping closer and keeping his eyes steady on Ginny, as if he wanted to make sure his dad would be okay. If she knew her son well, James was the one who was holding back the most to keep from showing that he was scared. 'He is fine?'

"He's fine, and he'll be fine," Ginny assured, hugging Lily sideways, because she didn't seem to want to leave her side. ‘I called you because…’ Because if he dies and you're not here I'll never forgive myself. Because Harry will enjoy seeing his kids one last time if he can't get the strength to survive. Because I need you here to keep me strong and not think about all those years of war, and not think about all those dead bodies. On Fred's dead body… 'Because it's the best thing to do, and your father will be very happy to see you when he wakes up. ‘

"Have you two been here long?" Albus asked, pulling out one of the chairs to sit next to Teddy, while James continued to stand by the window. Ginny didn't miss that Albus was shaking his leg nonstop, not even seeming to notice.

"No, I just arrived," Teddy assured him.

"I've been here for over an hour." Her lips trembled. "Jamie, sit down, there's no need to stand up."

"I don't want to." He tousled his hair. ‘How was he injured?

"I don't know, they didn't want to tell me." Ginny omitted, because she didn't think she should give that kind of detail to her kids. She continued to stare at him, watching as her son turned quickly to the window, as if he wanted to avoid being seen.

"Why don't you go buy us something to eat with me, Jamie?" Teddy stood up, looking like he noticed too. 'Are you hungry?'

"I've already eaten," Albus said, jumping into the chair beside his mother as the other stood up, letting Ginny hug him too.

"I want anything," she said, just because she knew the last meal had been breakfast, and she couldn't survive on just that in her stomach, especially if she wanted to support her kids. "Lils?" She looked at the girl still hugging her, sitting in the chair with her eyes downcast, her head resting on her mother.

"No thanks," Lily muttered, her voice lower than normal. Ginny had to swallow the cry that threatened to break her.

"Come on, mate?" Teddy pulled James close, his arm going over his shoulders like the big brother he was. "I hear there's a great cafeteria in here." The two of them left the room, James still looked sheepish and crestfallen, but Ginny blindly trusted Teddy to take care of him so she turned back to Lily.

"He'll be fine, it's just part of the job," she assured her, kissing her head.

"Have you seen him?" Albus asked, his voice shaking like his leg, which seemed to have accelerated now.

"I saw him when I arrived, the healers were cleaning him up and making sure everything was done as good as possible." Ginny chose the best words. She was grateful that Albus didn't ask her to detail how he was

But none of them asked, they kept quiet holding her, every time looking at the door when footsteps were heard, and she wondered how much longer they would wait to see Harry, to hear from him. When James arrived with Teddy, they brought chocolates, five salads, and some fried things that she assumed were fish and potatoes. They had taken longer than she thought it required, but James had red eyes and Teddy had wet spots on his dark blue shirt.

They started to eat, and even Albus, who had said he wasn't hungry, accepted the salad Teddy handed him, and some of James' fries. No one said anything else, the noise of the city outside and the birds being the only thing that rang in Ginny's ears, along with her heightened attention to any conversation and noise of people in the hallway.

She thought of the times she had told Harry that saving the world was no more important than being a father to his children, that surely those four would prefer him alive, than being a dead hero. Harry would never cease to be their hero, no matter what he did or didn't do, Ginny knew that.

They hadn't even been grandparents yet, Harry couldn't die.

And he wouldn't, Ginny scolded herself for thinking that. Harry would be fine, and they would grow old together, enjoying life, remembering what idiots they were as teenagers, watching their kids grow up and leave their house… Harry would be fine.

He had already gone through so much, so much tragedy, it would not be now that the trajectory would end.

"Do you guys remember when Harry said he could build that tree house all by himself?" Teddy recalled, a smile on his face, seeming to be carried away by the memory. 'He said he could do it and he didn't need help, but the hammer fell on his foot and he couldn't walk properly for almost a week.'

"Oh, and when did he say he was going to make pizza and the first one took almost an hour because he switched the time and temperature button?" Albus chuckled, shaking his head and filling his mouth with potato chips. "He looked so frustrated, and then the next one he burned because he set the temperature too high."

"Or when we convinced him to take Sir to the beach with us, and when we got there Sir threw up in the car seat," Teddy said.

"And he even pissed on the couch!" Lily said, looking more excited now that the memory of that vacation hit her. "He surfed with us that time."

"Wow, daddy surfing was the most shameful thing," James said, looking down at the salad in his lap and then shaking his head, a smirk on his face. "Will he want to surf with us again this year?" He looked at Ginny, as if he expected her to falter in her answer and admit that something bad could happen.

She smiled, an image of Harry trying to balance on the surfboard popping into her mind. ‘I'm sure he will. We can try to convince you to rappel with us, Al.'

'Oh yeah! I think he'll like the feeling of going down beside that waterfall.” Albus ran a hand through his hair, as if he too was trying to imagine his father tied to a rope as he descended a cliff. 'Can we go there on this vacation?'

"But Dad promised we were going to Egypt!" Lily cried, taking the chocolate from Teddy's hands and dividing it so everyone could get a piece.

"It's an amazing trip, we really should take it." Ginny remembered the one she'd taken years ago, not being able to not remember how happy Fred was with the trip, and how happy he'd been when they saw the pyramids. A ball of tears formed in her throat. ‘I'm sure there's some rappelling there, Al.’

"Dad told me he really wanted to visit Iceland one day and see an Aurora Borealis." James shrugged, stirring his salad uninterestedly. ‘They are rare and hard to find. He said that the times he was around, he never saw anything.’

"I think it would be a great experience too, but maybe Christmas is more attractive than summer there." Teddy ruffled James' hair, as if to cheer him up. ‘We should go to Amsterdam, because I've been asking for it for years now, and we never do. When Harry leaves here I will convince him that our next trip will be there.' He spoke, optimistic as ever, and suddenly the children seemed to remember where they were and why, and Ginny noticed when Albus' shoulders slumped a little, or when Lily cleared her throat and went back to looking at her chocolate.

"He said he's going to teach me how to cast a Patronus," Albus said, looking at Ginny. She smiled.

"I'm sure you can do it, Al." She ran a hand through his hair, thinking of all the promises Harry had made to the kids.

Traveling, skiing, horseback riding, learning spells, building things, going to shows… The list was huge, and it never stopped growing, as Harry was such a huge supporter of all the ideas the kids had.

Teddy wants to learn to play guitar? Harry will put him in a class, even if it takes their peace away. James wants to learn to ride a horse? Okay, he'd find a way to make that happen, no matter how much James fell in first class and twisted his fist. Albus wants a treehouse? Harry will build it, even if he doesn't know how. Lily wants to go to a muggle pop band concert but she can't go alone? Harry will take them and still arrange for them to stay very close to the stage, even if it means six hours in a queue, with several other hysterical teenagers in colorful shirts and posters declaring their love for one of the girls in the band.

Harry spoiled them sometimes, Ginny knew that, but it wasn't ruining them. They became creative people, they had a lot of skills to explore, as well as a lot of fun memories of those moments. They trusted them, in her and Harry's opinion, they talked to them about everything, or at least almost everything, and she knew this was much more than she, and obviously Harry, had.

‘Do you remember Teddy, when we went to Disney?' Ginny asked because she didn't want them to be sad, she wanted them to remember the good times and want them to live more of it, she wanted them to understand that the good times weren't over.

Harry would be fine. Then they would go to Amsterdam, ride horses, learn to ski, go looking for the Aurora, and even to Egypt. They still had many years to fill with activities.

‘It was fun, I remember! You let me eat at McDonald's.' He laughed. ‘We have to go there again. Do you remember Lils when we went with you? Gin-Gin can't go to some attractions because you were too scared and you were too small.”

"I think I'm tall enough now!" She smoothed her glasses back on her face, her chin lifting as if she challenged Teddy to deny it.

"Absolutely." He nodded, not thinking twice.

"But she's still a crybaby," Albus snapped, just to tease his sister, as usual. "She almost cried when-"

"I didn't cry!" Lily cut him off, her cheeks as red as her hair. ‘And I'm not scared. Mom!'

"Al, enough," Ginny warned, even though she was smiling. She was missing a bit of all this mess, their house was pretty quiet with just her and Harry there. "Should we-" She was interrupted by a healer who opened the door to the room, he had a gentle smile on his face but he looked tired. Ginny braced herself to hear the news, good or not.

‘He's fine, we took care of his injuries and he's already awake. He's asking to see his family, I informed him you were here.' The man had barely finished speaking when Albus jumped out of his chair and started to leave the room, as did James and Lily, looking eager to see Harry. ‘Sorry for the delay, it was a big injury.’

"It's okay," Ginny and Teddy stood, and she smiled at the man. 'Leaving my husband alive, you could take your time.' She walked out of the room, already seeing the children opening a door almost at the end of the hall, and the three voices saying 'Dad!' much higher than would be advisable in a hospital.

When she entered the room, the three of them were sitting on the bed with Harry, who looked tired but happy to see them there. His head was bandaged, as was a shoulder and ribs on his right side, his left eye was a little swollen, but she thought it was just because he had injured his head.

"I'm glad to see you here." His voice was low, husky, and Ginny thought he should be resting instead of straining like that, but she knew Harry wouldn't rest until he saw his family. "Daddy is fine, just the occasional wound."

"You scared the shit out of us!" Teddy walked over, sitting next to James, who was wide-eyed and looking a little scared. Lily nodded, sitting next to his knee.

"When Professor Johann called me, I thought I was in trouble," Albus said, moving his hands anxiously as he spoke. ‘I would prefer it to be that, I must say.

"Don't ever do that Mr Potter, my heart isn't so young anymore." Ginny sat down in the chair beside his bed, swallowing the sob of relief that wanted to break her chest when Harry looked at her and smiled. She ran a hand over his face, as if she just wanted to get reassurance that he was okay.

"I guess I'm not that young anymore either." He sighed. "Won't you talk to me, James?" Didn't you miss your old man?” Harry looked at the boy, sitting at the far end of the bed, who seemed to be making as much effort as Ginny not to cry.

'You scared me. I was the first one called, and… It was horrible, don't ever do that again.” James shook his head vehemently, as if he wanted to put some image out of his mind. 'If you died, I would never forgive you.' Ginny didn't think that was the kindest way to say he was afraid of losing his father, but it seemed to hit Harry in the right way, who smiled sadly and nodded slightly, before sighing.

[...]

"I think it's time to retire," he said, after the kids had left to sleep in the Burrow, Ginny stayed behind to spend the night with Harry.

"I think so too." She squeezed his hand, letting the tears finally flow. ‘What would these children do without their father? What was I going to do without you? I'm too young to be a widow.” Ginny tried to make a joke, but it only made her cry harder. ‘You already saved the world once, now enough.’

"Yeah, I realized that when I felt Noel carry me and start screaming for help." Harry looked sad too, wiping Ginny's tears away. ‘I still don't know what I'm going to do, where to go, but… I can't take it anymore Gin, I'm getting tired, they're stressing me out, it's not as cool as it was when I was 19 and I had nothing to lose. Now I do, and now I understand why Robards left too. Every time I go out into the field, I think about you guys, and when I'm at the office, I think about how tired I am… I don't know what to be but a savior, though.”

“You can start making pottery.” She laughed, making him laugh too. "You'll find something to do, I'm sure you have other skills besides being a hero," Ginny said, kissing him carefully, wanting him to understand that she was there with him, and that she was glad he was there. "We'll find something together, I promise."

#hinny #harry x ginny #next gen harry potter #harry and ginny #teddy lupin #james sirius potter #albus severus potter #lily luna potter #angst with comfort

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drunklander · 7 years

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Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 301

Ermagherd guys. It’s been 84 years but the new season is finally here! And not gonna lie, I was about 50/50 excited and nervous for the new episodes to come out because ugh season two…

But I actually really liked the episode! I felt the things I was supposed to feel! I wanted to punch the people I thought I’d want to punch! I yelled a lot of things at Frank because I still hate him! My desire to smash the patriarchy grew three times! It went by really, really fast! Can they all go by this fast so it’s not like waiting 84 more years for Jamie and Claire to get back together? Cool.

Anywho, ramblings are under the cut. I split them up between Boston and Scotland just to keep it organized but I *loved* the editing of the episode. And the direction. Good job, new director guy!

(omfg i forgot how long i get when i write these things and also how fucking long it takes to like proofread and format once i’m sober...)

Scotland

There are no more bagpipes in the theme music and it’s making me feel things. *shakes fist at Bear in the best way possible*

The shot with all the bodies is powerful and everything but I can’t also help feeling a little salty that season two/DIA exists since lol nothing matters. They’re all dead and they were always going to be dead and I just really didn’t like last season but this is the new season sooo moving on.

The body they zoom over after the piles of bodies is Murtagh, right? Because it looks like Murtagh. And Amazon’s x-ray thing is telling me it’s Murtagh. So Murtagh’s not getting saved? Because when they talk about him later in the episode I got my hopes wayyy up that he was going to come back at some point in the season. So now I guess they’re going to have Jamie maybe remember later on? Like maybe keep the part on the ship after Claire is hurt when he tells her the story about how he dies? Anywho, I’m going to go have feelings about Murtagh now.

This killing of the wounded is the most brutal parallel to Prestonpans, guys. (RIP Lt. Babyface)

Also, Sam Heughan and Tom Hardy should star in a two-man show where Sam acts everything without speaking and Tom does the whole thing with his Bane/Mad Max/Dunkirk masks on so he like only has an eyebrow left visible.

Seriously though. Murder me with feels why don’t you, dying!Jamie.

And it’s not supposed to be a surprise that it’s BJR on top of him, right? Like they didn’t think they were going to make that a reveal or anything did they? Because like who the fuck else would it be...

I’m really glad they edited it this way with it all out of sequence and cutting back and forth and stuff though. Like Prestonpans was straightforward and it was awesome. But man does this just hit me in the “omg they’re all doomed and Jamie’s dying and that’s what he wants so badly so like I want him to get what he wants but he can’t die because #plot” feels. Plus the nod to the book where his memories of the battle are all jumbled.

JFC, BPC. STFU about your birthday cup. What the actual fuck is wrong with you. How are you so bad at this. It’s been more than a year since season two and I still just want to punch your very punchable face.

Ok I know Jamie at the stones is supposed to be all heartbreaking and moving and shit, and it is, I guess, as much as it can be in the 0.5 seconds we see him there. But him smelling Claire’s plaid just reminds me of this post and I lol’ed an inappropriate amount for the moment.

I *really* want to punch BPC’s “oh shit, we’re fucked” face. Like when Jamie tells him to order the charge while there’s still a chance and his face is just like that look of horror over what’s happening like WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU THINK WAS HAPPENING YOU FUCKING IDIOT WITH YOUR FUCKING BIRTHDAY CUP FROM YOUR DAD. LOOK THE FUCK AROUND YOU. THIS ISN’T A FUCKING GAME AND OMFG SOMEONE PLEASE PUNCH HIM.

Also inappropriately chuckling at Jamie murdering a dude with fucking divot, but moving on because…

MURTAGH!!! Omg both of their faces when they see each other and “Where’ve you been, enjoying a wee whisky?” *Murtagh casually kills a dude* “You’re welcome.” I JUST LOVE THE TWO OF THEM SO MUCH. Also, thanks for the heads up that the Lallybroch guys are home safe, Murtagh. Move over, Game of Thrones season seven. Outlander has had teleporting since the beginning.

Outlander: Where Time Travel Is Real, But Travel Time Isn’t

All that training in Je Suis Prest and they end up just charging in. Because lol nothing matters. But I did really like Je Suis Prest so whatever.

I’m not sure I like this weird “magic hour” lighting on the Jamie and BJR fight? Like I get if that’s just when they filmed it that’s one thing, and that their fight is like for *all the closure* so it’s almost separate from the rest of the battle. But I’m not feeling it?

Super glad that we do get that closure of seeing Jamie kill him though, and that Jamie remembers it so he can like process and move on from that part of his life.

Them landing like in a hug and then basically spooning is a bit on the nose though, show. Although like thanks I guess for having him keep Jamie alive and not bleeding out by literally laying on his wound?

Oh the dragonfly in amber. I’m still not a fan of the gifts at the stones thing from last year. But I guess I’m ok with him having something of Claire’s to hold on to so like when vision!Claire appears there’s like something physical tying her to him?

Also, vision!Claire is fucking stunning.

I swear to fuck Jamie thinking he’s seeing Claire in the early episodes is going to murder me.

“I’m not gonna leave ye to die in the mud. Even if ye are a pig-headed loon who canna hold his whisky.” “Drink you under the table.” Literally dying Jamie Fraser defending his alcohol tolerance is my new aesthetic.

I’m glad they show him dropping the amber because like there goes his last physical memory of Claire. *sobs quietly* But also to show how it eventually ended up in the museum for Claire to see last season. Because I def thought they weren’t going to bring that back again and her seeing it last season was just a weird bit of haha look how this is here now for Claire to see! Feel things, monkey, feel the feelings! (That said, I don’t know if I like it enough to merit the time spent on it at the stones last year…)

Ok so I’m starting to think that Murtagh is really dead and that really was him that we saw on the ground at the beginning and they’re just bringing him up again to established that no one knows what happens to him so they can go back later in the season and have Jamie remember him dying and then I’ll have all the Murtagh feelings.

(Seriously though, please fucking save Murtagh!)

I really, *really* love Rupert in the scenes in the house. I love that they let him step up and, with Jamie out of commission, really become the leader of these men. His “No, my lord. Traitors all. Shall we be hanged then.” has just that right amount of fuck you in it, but his “Thank you, my lord.” is definitely genuine. Like yeah, he’s going to die, but at least it’s an honorable man who’s going to kill him in an honorable way?

Seriously though, I love Hal.

Ugh, Jamie saying “she’s gone.” That’s going to be a thing isn’t it. Like with Jenny and then with LJG. And it’s going to murder me every time isn’t it. Ok.

The goodbye with Rupert is my everything. The humor and feelings and Angus and omg. I have feelings.

And the way Rupert’s voice changes when he says “aye.” And when he says his name. Guys why is my face wet.

“No man in the king’s custody will be shot lying down on my watch.” I fucking love you, Hal.

Gah, the way Jamie’s voice changes and becomes stronger when he says his name, like Rupert’s did. It’s like it’s their chance to go out with all of their dignity. But then Jamie’s fades because he’s so weak. *sobs*

“Does the name John Grey mean anything to you?” “Well no, because even though he gave your father’s name and title plus his birth order last year, so he clearly wasn’t trying to hide his identity or anything, the writers decided to keep him in the script as William Grey. There really was no reason to do that. They could have just made him John Grey from the start. But they didn’t. For reasons I will never understand. So no, the name John Grey means nothing to me. Good day, sir. I said good day.”

Gah like Jamie is so sad that I really want to shoot him and put him out of his misery but I also want ep. 306 so thanks for being noble af, Hal.

I am def going to start using “This is a deuce of a situation.” in my everyday life.

Oh hey, Jenny and Ian. See you next week!

Boston

Ok but that first shot of Claire. Like that resigned look that this is her life now and she’s trying to convince herself that she’s ok with it. And the little sigh like “ok I can do this” but like more that she thinks she *needs* to do this. Break my heart a little right there, Claire. Also, please leave Frank so you can take the time you need to heal and grieve and process instead of keeping it all bottled up inside to live up to some “conditions” because that’s really not healthy.

“Are you sure we can afford all this?” “Oh totally, you see we need to have enough room to like fit the camera operators in and the sound guys and the rest of the crew and some lighting stuff and also it looks way better on TV if we have space to move around so we can definitely afford this wicked spacious house. Gotta save the cramped conditions for prisons and ships and stuff. Don’t worry about the rent, dear.”

No shade at all meant on the set. I’m just silly.

“You’ve always said you wanted a real home.” “It certainly is real.” BUT IT'S NOT HOME BECAUSE JAMIE IS HER HOME AND JAMIE ISN'T HERE. *has feelings*

“The study can be wherever the lady of the house desires.” … “The kitchen, where presumably, the lady of the house will be rustling up various appetizing dishes.” Yes, Claire, you’re the lady of the house! You can totally decide where my study is going to be! But lol your place is in the kitchen because you’re a woman and that’s what women do! Fuck you, Frank.

I almost like the handful of scenes where Claire and Frank are getting along on the surface because it’s almost like a window into what their life was like pre-War. And in each instance, I cannot see Claire being happy in that sort of relationship long term even if she hadn’t gone through the stones. Like your cowboy impression is cute, Frank, but your tendency to treat your wife like an accessory instead of a person is not.

That said, WHO THE FUCK CARES BECAUSE IT’S NOT FRANK’S STORY AND WE DON’T NEED TO SEE WHO THEY WERE BEFORE BECAUSE IT’S NOT A STORY ABOUT FRANK AND CLAIRE.

Ok so seeing Claire struggling to light the stove gave me the same feelings the gif did. But seeing her sit on the couch and then see the fireplace I was just like OMG DO IT! DO IT DO IT DO IT! AND SHE FUCKING DID IT! @abreathofsnowandashes’ POST IS BASICALLY CANON AND I LITERALOL’ED WAY TOO HARD.

Claire waxing poetic about food cooked over an open fire is making me feel more feelings than it should.

But seriously her face in reaction to Betty Draper over here is awesome. I need Claire to start a neighborhood group where she turns all the women into massive feminists please and thank you.

“He likes surprises, does he?” “Oh yeah, totally. Last time I surprised him, he almost punched me and then destroyed a shed. So yeah, I’d say he loves them."

Please don’t give Jerry a heart attack, Millie. Claire already had one husband-murdering friend and I think that’s quite enough for one person. Thanks. You’re a peach.

Oh Claire. Oh honey. “Frank is very progressive. Very open-minded.” The look on her face when she says that like she’s trying to convince herself it’s true. Like yes, if you follow all of his conditions, you can stay together and raise the baby. But is it really being open-minded if literally all of his conditions are about you keeping everything locked away so he can go on pretending like everything is back to normal? Or is that just selfish. I’m voting selfish on that one.

“Just cook, clean, raise the kids, look pretty when they meet the boss.” Millie you are literally describing Frank’s ideal wife right now. And I think Claire on some level knows that. RUN AWAY CLAIRE, RUN AWAY! IT’S NOT TOO LATE! THESE ARE ALL THINGS THAT ARE NOT TIME-TRAVEL RELATED! PLEASE WAKE UP AND REALIZE THAT NOT ALL OF YOUR PROBLEMS ARE BECAUSE YOU WENT BACK IN TIME!

Oh her face when Millie says she won’t find another man like Frank. SHE FOUND ONE SO MUCH BETTER AND HE’S NOT DEAD AND SHE’LL GET HIM BACK AND EVERYTHING WILL BE OK AGAIN!

Seriously though. The shots of Claire’s face when they switch back to the Boston side of things. Punch me right in the face with feels why don’t you, show. Like when she’s getting ready to go to Frank’s work thing. That cut from Jamie’s face that’s all full of pain to her face that’s also all full of pain. *sobs quietly* Like this woman is hurting! FFS! Look at everything she went through! Look at everything she lost! And she has no outlet for any of those emotions! And that look of just pain and loneliness and then resignation when Frank calls up to her and quoting Millie… I want to give her a hug and a therapist.

Ok so the scene at Harvard. Thank fuck Frank manages to not be a piece of shit in this scene because I need all my rage for the fucking Dean. I still hate you Frank, but you get a momentary reprieve here. Because this fucking dude needs to be punched in his smug-ass face. Like you’re seriously going to shit on a woman for reading the fucking newspaper?! First of all, don’t fucking ever shit on a woman for reading any-fucking-thing and second of all, your patriarchal bullshit runs so deep you can’t stand a woman reading the most popular newspaper in Boston?! It’s not like she rolled in and was like well I was reading the Atlantic (founded in Boston, what whatttt!) or the Economist or something that your fucking misogynist brain wouldn’t be able to handle. She was literally talking about reading a fucking #HotTake in the fucking local paper.

THAT’S RIGHT CLAIRE, YOU CAN GO TO MED SCHOOL! YOU SHOULD GO TO MED SCHOOL! DO THAT THING AND THEN SURGICALLY DISASSEMBLE THE PATRIARCHY!

Good boy, Frank. Way to stand up for your wife and not suck for once. But remember that little fun fact you just spouted about your wife because that’ll come up again later when I need to yell at you for being a piece of shit.

Omg though. Claire’s face when she says “yes, I’m very happy” is the best “you can go fuck yourself straight to hell” face I’ve ever seen. And grabbing Frank’s hand when she says it is clearly part of that and not like an actual, genuine taking of his hand and he knows that. And I don’t feel bad for him at all in that moment because yeah, he fucking needs that reminder that she’s sitting through this because of him so a tangential fuck you to you, Frank, for bringing me here for this wonderful experience.

"Are you alright? You're very quiet.” “Oh yeah, peachy keen. Just got condescended to for reading a newspaper, was told women were bad at the profession I was born to do and had to pretend to be totally ok with this being my life now. Totally fine.”

For serious, Claire. Your face there. Those feelings you’re feeling. These are not time travel adventure related feelings. These are this life sucks and I hate it feelings. You don’t need to stay here. This is getting super tedious. Frank sucks. Your life with him sucks. You have all this emotional baggage that you have every right to have and no outlet for it. Jamie wouldn’t want you staying in a fucking life that is making you this miserable. The baby hasn’t been born yet, there is still time to bounce before it gets even messier. Argh. Thank fuck there are only two more episodes of this stuff because there are only so many times I can yell JUST GET A FUCKING DIVORCE at the tv.

I felt more feelings than I should have felt at Claire looking at the bird. Like omg Claire’s face as she’s looking at it. Just out there. Being a bird. Doing its bird thing. Being free. YOU COULD BE FREE TOO CLAIRE! GO! BE FREEEEE!

Ok with this tea scene I literally had to google how British people make tea. Like I know I’ve talked about it with people before, like recently, but somehow in my head it wasn’t just like loose in a tin. I can’t even do a proper snarky hashtag about preferring the American way tea is packaged because that would make it seem like I was into a weird sex thing so I guess I’ll just have to blaspheme by saying I like Lipton’s and I’m not sorry.

So Claire likes America because "It's young, it's eager, it's constantly looking toward the future." Or, you could say it's...young, scrappy and hungry! Claire would totally be Hamiltrash. Frank wouldn't be. Fuck you, Frank, it’s a great show. Loosen up, geez.

Ok Frank, why did you go to touch her belly. You clearly know that she doesn’t like that. But you saw an opening when she said it’s “our baby” and you went for it. Like I know you really, really want things to be normal, but fucking don’t proactively touch Claire like that when you know it’s not welcome.

Also, seriously Frank? Have you met Claire? Yes, she’s English. But she grew up fucking all over the world. I don’t think she’s particularly sentimentally attached to the fucking Battle of Hastings. She’s trying to have a conversation with you. She’s opening up. She’s trying to be “normal” with you and share something she’s excited about doing. And your first thing is to question her? Fuck you. You’re a shitty person.

“These are things I fought a war for.” Ok Franky boy. Remember that scene a little bit ago when I said you got a reprieve from my hatred? You know, the one where you found like the singular decent bone in your body and decided to defend Claire for a second? Remember what it was you said? Oh right. SHE WAS A FUCKING COMBAT NURSE YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. SHE WAS ALSO IN THE WAR. SHE WAS ON THE FUCKING FRONT FUCKING LINES OF THE MOTHERFUCKING WAR. And then guess what?! SHE FUCKING THEN FOUGHT IN ANOTHER WAR! THIS TIME AGAINST THE ENGLISH! AND EVERYONE SHE LOVED DIED! (except not really, hang in there girl) IT’S TOTALLY NORMAL THAT SHE WOULD HAVE CONFLICTED FEELINGS ABOUT ENGLAND AND BE LIKE HEY THIS UNITED STATES PLACE SEEMS OK (*pours one out for the current state of affairs*) I WANT TO MAYBE BE A CITIZEN.

And then this fucker’s like oh it’s something you really want to do? Well you don’t have to because I’ve got it covered. THAT IS NOT THE FUCKING POINT, FRANK! STOP MAKING THIS ABOUT YOU! SHE’S LITERALLY SAYING THAT THIS IS SOMETHING *SHE* WANTS TO DO. WHY ARE YOU SUCH A TWATWAFFLE.

And then he brings in the not letting him touch her shit. Like why couldn’t you have just let this be a fucking normal conversation, Frank. But since you brought it up. Let’s talk about Claire for a minute. Claire is pregnant. Claire was pregnant before. Claire lost her first child. Claire’s current pregnancy is going to result in Jamie’s child. Her fucking last chance to have a part of him in her life. So of course that’s something that’s fucking super emotional and that she’s super protective of. Because she also knows that she can’t fucking tell this child anything about Jamie. Because of your fucking conditions. Like I don’t think you can comprehend how much of a mindfuck that must be, Frank. So maybe don’t fucking touch her stomach if she’s made it clear she doesn’t want you to.

And then! With the fucking unwanted touching. Do you fucking know how many times this woman has been assaulted, Frank?! Hell, the show is not at all explicit that she wasn’t actually raped in the glade in ep. 108. And the deal with the king. And BJR. And the dudes at Leoch. And fucking Dougal. And the gang of dudes in Paris. And ones I’m probably forgetting about. So like if there was ever going to be anyone who might be wicked sensitive about unwanted touching, it’s fucking Claire. BUT GUESS WHAT! AND THIS IS THE KICKER, FRANK! THAT DOESN’T EVEN MATTER BECAUSE IF SOMEONE SAYS THEY DON’T WANT YOU TOUCHING THEM THEN YOU DON’T FUCKING TOUCH THEM IT IS LITERALLY THAT SIMPLE.

And of course she’s retreating into her shell, you fucking asshole. The amount of trauma this woman has gone through with no fucking outlet to deal with it. Of course she’s fucking isolating herself. But instead of being concerned about her and trying to help her, you’re just like omfg but what about meeeee?! Why can’t you just be “normal” for meeee?!

“What is it that you want from me?” “I want to know when you’re going to come back from the fucking past.” Fuuuuuck you, Frank. Because you’re asking when she’s going to go back to being how she was before. Well newsflash, Frank. She’s not. You’re never going to get your pre-War relationship back where Claire was 19 and thought you were the swellest guy. Because that’s what you want here. Stop fucking deluding yourself Frank, there aren’t enough conditions in the world to bring that girl back. So now you have this woman. Who is tearing herself apart from the inside trying to fucking live up to her side of your bullshit bargain. And at every turn you’re like nope, not good enough.

FUCKING PREACH IT. CLAIRE. PREACH.

I fucking love that she throws the ashtray at him because he again reduces what she had with Jamie to fucking. He’s been doing it since last season. He just can’t get his shitty-ass head around the fact that Claire loves Jamie with everything she has. It’s a great parallel to when Claire loses it at Bree in ep. 213 when Bree also says that Claire was just fucking another guy because she was a bored housewife. I fucking love how protective she is of what she has with Jamie.

Seriously though, fuck you Frank. You’re asking her to be something she's not and then blaming her for not doing it well enough. Yes, she should have left you, but you’re also an asshole.

And yeah, Frank didn’t like hogtie her and force her to come to Boston. But Jamie sent her to Frank so she went, all shattered and hollow, to Frank. And Frank was like oh cool, I can get my wife back like nothing ever happened and so yeah, clearly staying together is a great idea. You know, on my terms. Which you’ll agree to because you’re all like shattered and hollow. But Claire, you’re now far enough removed that you SHOULD JUST FUCKING LEAVE BECAUSE THIS IS CLEARLY NOT WORKING AND JAMIE WOULDN’T WANT YOU TO BE THIS FUCKING UNHAPPY. AND GUESS WHAT HE IS ALSO NOT HERE ANYMORE SO YOU TRIED BUT IT’S NOT WORKING AND UGH JUST GET A FUCKING DIVORCE ALREADY.

Gah, we have two more episodes before my best friend in the world, Ms. Ice E. Road, shows up and rids me of my Frank-rage once and for all.

Please for the love of fuck make it once and for all because omfg it’s not Frank’s story and it’s never been Frank’s story so can Frank please just die and stay dead. KThxBai.

*sacrifices a goat that Tobias gets a kickass leading role in something that keeps him unavailable for the foreseeable future*

Why is Frank’s face just giant on the screen. Like why is it still there. It’s still there guys. I’m not even typing that fast and it’s still there. Make it go away.

Ok I’m calling bullshit here. There is no way in fuck that house doesn’t have a second bedroom. Like if you aren’t sleeping in Claire’s bed, go to the fucking guest room. You get no pity from me for all the noise that comes with sleeping on the couch.

Ok like we knew they were keeping in Frank’s request to the reverend to research Jamie because Roger and Bree find it in ep. 213 and that’s how they know he’s alive. But in all my feelings about ep. 213, I forgot that it meant that I still get to hate Frank for doing it. But luckily there’s a scene in this episode where he starts writing the original letter! So fuck you, Frank, for being so shitty to Claire about not talking about her time in the past, but you’ll write to your buddy to research it!

Although I definitely don’t like that it’s the reverend’s research that let’s them know Jamie survived. Because that means Frank is kind of responsible for it. But at least they nixed the stupid placing a fake headstone bullshit. Still no brownie points for you, Frank.

I’m glad that Frank finds out about the miscarriage but doesn’t get details about Faith. Like oh hey, here’s another detail about how my life with Jamie was real and loving and yeah, we lost a child together and it was traumatic af so just get that through your head. But also it’s such a personal thing between her and Jamie that I really don’t want Frank to get all the details.

“I’m sorry I didn't tell you about the miscarriage.” “None of that matters now.” Frank you could have picked literally any other set of words. Any other words to get your point across besides “it doesn't matter.” Because I know you're talking about Claire not telling you and not the miscarriage itself, but she's talking about her first daughter. Who matters a great deal.

I HATE THIS DOCTOR WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE THEY ALLOWED TO DO THAT IS THAT EVEN LEGAL DO I NEED TO GO DOWN A RABBITHOLE AND FIND THIS OUT WHERE IS THE CALL THE MIDWIFE CREW WHEN YOU NEED THEM SORRY FOR JOKING WHEN WHAT THE DOCTOR DID TO CLAIRE IS 1000% UNACCEPTABLE.

Omfg I cannot even imagine waking up and not knowing where your baby is or if they’re alive or dead. I definitely can’t imagine going through that twice. Like omfg when you put it next to Faith, it’s just like *ugly cries*.

“I’ve been so horrible to you.” But have you, Claire? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve been doing the best you can. And Frank’s been making you feel like you’ve been horrible. Because he’s a shitty, shitty person. But seriously. You should have left him. But it’s kind of too late now because apparently you both seem to think Bree will somehow make everything better. Right. Definitely. That’s totally going to be what happens.

*only two more episodes of this, only two more episodes of this*

“Where’d she get the red hair?” Bless you, rando nurse. Blesss.

#*#drunj!der yells about outlander #outlander starz #outlander 3x01

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takemeawaytocamelot · 7 years

Text

Red Jamie and the White Lady - Part 20

Holy. Crap. You guys. This is the TWENTIETH chapter of RJWL!!! I can’t even tell you how shocked I am that this story has made it so far. It wouldn’t be here without you wonderful supporters and readers. So thank you so so so so much for all your comments. @diversemediums is amazing as always, convincing me this chapter was actually good as it was snd I didn’t need to scrap it. :D

Catch up on chapter 19 HERE

Claire sat quietly beside Murtagh in the cab, watching the streets of Paris pass by. She’d never been to Paris before. There was a vague memory of an early childhood dream to visit Paris with her true love and kiss beneath the Eiffel Tower. Maybe she could persuade Murtagh to let Jamie out for one night and they’d sneak over there. No, she sighed, that would put him in too much danger and that was too much to risk.

When the cab came to a stop, Murtagh exited first and helped her with her bag, eyes constantly moving.

“Does he know we’re coming?”

“Nae. Couldna risk him tellin’ someone the lad’s location. But, if Willie’s research is still accurate, he’ll help ye.”

She nodded, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. There was so much at stake: what if she couldn’t learn anything? For a moment, she worried that her breakfast would come back up with the way her stomach was roiling. Thankfully it remained where it was.

The door of the herbalist’s shop opened and a dark skinned young woman smiled at them.

“Madame? Monsieur?”

“Je cherche Maître Raymond.”

A loud thud had the woman rolling her eyes before motioning them inside.

“Bonne après-midi,” Claire said as a small frog-like man approached them.

He looked her up and down with a keen eye.

“You are English, yes?” the man asked in French.

Claire nodded sheepishly.

“My French betrays me,” she said.

“Ah! Then I will make this easier for you. What is it that I can do for you, Madonna?”

She frowned at him for a moment.

“Monsieur,” Murtagh said gruffly. “Have ye a private place that we might speak freely? Somewhere that willna be overheard?”

Prying his eyes from Claire, Raymond looked at Murtagh and nodded.

“Of course, of course. Right this way. Mind the shop!”

Raymond lead them down a narrow hallway and into a back room. Claire was fascinated by all the jars around them, filled with herbs she’d never even heard of. The herbalist closed and locked the door behind them.

“It is free of unwanted ears, here. What is it you need me to get?”

Murtagh folded his arms over his chest, deciding how much to tell this new person.

“What do ye ken of the Sight?”

If the small man was startled by the question, he gave no indication. Instead, he surveyed Claire and Murtagh. Claire’s heart leapt; he looked just like Uncle Lamb had when he'd found something of unique interest.

“I know it is an unusual Gift,” Raymond said. “Very rare in the modern age. I have heard rumors that one with the Sight still lives, but…” he waved his hands in a dismissive gesture.

“What do you ken of Healers?”

Raymond sat down on a wooden crate, rubbing his face with his hands.

“What is it that you need from me? If you cannot tell me what it is, then you have no business being here.”

Claire stepped forward before Murtagh could say something rude.

“We need your help, monsieur. My husband has the Sight, but his body…” She swallowed, then went on. “His body cannot handle it. The stronger the visions get, the more they effect him. I seem to have a Gift as well to be a Healer for him, but I do not know how to use my Gift. We hoped that you might be able to help us.”

Raymond’s eyes went so wide Claire worried they might pop out.

“He truly has the Sight?”

“Aye,” Murtagh said sourly. “And if the lass here canna use her Gift, he’ll die.”

“Take my hands,” Raymond said, suddenly getting to his feet. “And tell me your name.”

Claire rested her hands on top of Raymond’s, a sharp shock making her flinch.

“Claire… Beauchamp.”

“I understand the need for secrecy, Madonna. Do you know what it is you do when you Heal your husband?”

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the way she’d passed energy from herself to Jamie. Raymond jerked his hands away, breathing hard.

“How long are you in Paris?” he asked, voice thready with desperation.

“However long we need,” Murtagh answered for them.

“Excellent! This will be much easier if you stay with me.”

Thoughts of Jamie sprang into her mind, the look on his face as they’d pulled away from the cottage.

“We will stay for a week at a time,” Murtagh said. “But we’ve people lookin’ for us and for the lad. We canna gi’ ye our real names, ken? Or tell ye where we’re from.”

Raymond shook his head and waved his hands again.

“You will stay in my home. I am off the grid, so you will be safe. I do not need information, only a promise that you,” he looked at Claire. “Will do as I say when I teach you about your Gift.”

“Of course,” she said. “But what about your shop?”

“What of it? It does not need me to run. And if someone does need me, Delphine knows how to contact me.”

Nervously, Claire nodded her head and followed Raymond out a back door. Only six more days until she could see Jamie again.

Raymond put them up in separate but adjoined rooms. He allowed her time to wash up and take a nap if she wished, but he wanted to speak with her as soon as possible. Murtagh was her ever-present shadow everywhere she went.

“What do you know of auras?” Raymond asked, looking through a bookshelf as Claire took her seat.

“Not much, I’m afraid. The man that raised me was a practical sort.”

“Ah!” He said, pulling a book from the shelf. “Then let me give you the basics. Everyone has an aura, a sort of… glow about them. Not everyone can see them, you understand.”

Setting the book out on the table, he flipped through a few pages until he found the one he wanted. Claire leaned forward to study the drawing of a human shape, surrounded by a rainbow of light.

“Is this what you see about people?”

“Yes, Madonna. For instance your friend here,” he nodded at Murtagh. “He has many colors, but the strongest I can see is his loyalty. Everyone will tell you different colors mean different things. He is strong and protective and very loyal.”

Claire nodded, watching Murtagh frown.

“Yes, he is very loyal to my husband.”

Raymond devolved into explanations of the different colors as he understood them. He was a very animated storyteller, using his hands in wide arcs as he spoke. Claire found herself relaxing around this odd little man, taking comfort in his absolute belief. He didn’t need to see Jamie, which made Murtagh happy, but he knew he could help.

“I have a little of the Healing Gift myself, but not as strong as most. But you, Madonna…”

“What about her,” Murtagh asked sharply.

“Most Healing I’ve seen happen has a blue energy about it. But yours, Madonna, is pure white.”

Frowning, Claire sat back in her chair.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you are La Dame Blanche. The White Lady.”

Though she had no context for the title he gave her, she felt her pulse race. It frightened her, like it carried a weight with it.

“What exactly does that mean?” she asked, surprised her voice wasn’t trembling.

“It means you have a great Gift, Madonna. For most who Heal, it is specific. Some are good at mending damaged bones. Others I have known work well with the brain. But your Gift covers the whole of a person. Tell me, you are a doctor?”

She nodded.

“And you seem to always know when something is wrong? Even if tests tell you nothing else is wrong?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I always know, even if I’m not sure what it is.”

“This is why you are La Dame Blanche. You can heal most anyone. Of course, there are things that even Gifts cannot heal, but you are more powerful than most Healers.”

Murtagh stood and began pacing.

“The reason we are here, Master Raymond,” he said. “Is because Claire needs help wi’ her gift. Can ye teach her to use it better? Help her get stronger?”

Raymond nodded quickly.

“Oh yes, of course! Give me a little time to find some books. I have a few talents of my own, as I’ve said. But yes, I can help her. You both take your time and settle in. I’m not sure how long this will all take.”

A sudden wave of panic took over Claire.

“What about…” she trailed off, looking up at Murtagh. He would know what she meant.

“You are not a prisoner here,” Raymond said. “You can come and go as you wish. If you’d like to only work and stay here a few days a week, that’s alright with me.”

“We’ll leave once a week,” Murtagh said. “No’ the same day, ken. For our safety and yers, we willna tell ye when we go or where we’ll go.”

Raymond nodded.

“Fine, fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve some books to collect. I’ll have dinner ready at six.”

That night, Claire sat on her bed and felt very alone. Jamie was always such a presence in her life, everywhere she went. She’d been sleeping beside him long enough to grow accustomed to it. This bed looked large and cold without him in it.

Murtagh’s restrictions didn’t allow her to call or write to Jamie. But she could write a letter to him, she just wouldn’t send it. She could leave the letters with him for him to read while she was gone. Yes, that would be good.

My love,

I think you’d enjoy Master Raymond. He’s quite a character, very eccentric. Murtagh didn’t like him to start, I think. He knows how Gifts work, Jamie. Your brother was right, he can help me. It’s late and I’m tired. But looking at the bed reminds me that I haven’t slept without you in a while. I don’t like it, being here knowing you’re sleeping alone too. It’s what we need, I know, but I miss you. I’m glad you gave me a shirt of yours, though. It smells like you.

I love you.

-C

Folding the letter up, Claire slipped it into the drawer of her bedside table and crawled into the lonely bed.

“Come with me, Madonna,” Raymond said. “We need to discuss and understand what your Gift is and what it does.”

“Didn’t we do that already?” she asked, finishing her coffee.

“Come with me,” he said again, bustling off down a hallway.

Claire glanced at Murtagh curiously, but he just shrugged. She jogged off after the Frenchman, finding him in a small library. A pile of old books sat on the desk, one open at the top of the pile.

“We discussed generalities, Madonna,” he said. “Nothing specific. And these questions I must ask you might set off your bodyguard.”

She watched him warily, aware that Jamie’s fate now lay in her hands.

“I won’t betray my husband. His secrets are his to tell, not mine.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to. I just need to know a little about how his Gift works and how yours interacts with him. That’s all.”

The entire day was full of questions and answers from both of them. By the time they all sat down for dinner, he’d helped her discover where the power of her Gift lay. She couldn’t access it on command, but he said that would come with practice.

Before she curled up for bed, she wrote Jamie another letter.

My love,

Honestly I don’t feel as though I’ve made much progress today. But Raymond says that comes with time and practice. It’s difficult though. Since becoming a doctor, I’m used to knowing what I need to do and doing it. This is so different than anything I’ve ever done. I’m determined, though. I’m going to figure this Gift out and come back to you. I miss you.

-C

Pulling the sheets up around herself, she sighed and sank slowly into sleep.

Claire woke up in Raymond’s house, not sure what it was that woke her. An unusual sound caught her attention, so she got up. She’d been wearing one of Jamie’s shirts to bed since she’d left the cottage, the only way to keep him close until she saw him again.

Following her ears, she rounds a corner and discovers Murtagh sitting on a stool playing a beautiful cello.

“I didn’t know you played,” she said quietly.

“Dinna play much these days. No time, wi’ trying to hide the lad and all. But I’ve a moment here. Ye should be asleep, lass.”

Claire shrugged, moving to be closer to the beautiful instrument.

“I know. But I heard the sound and wondered what it was. May I sit and listen?”

“Of course,” Murtagh said, inclining his head to an empty chair.

He relaxed into a melody she vaguely recognized, the sounds soft and sweet beneath his broad hands. It amazed her, how beautiful it all was, how delicate for such a gruff man.

Her eyes, steadily growing heavier in her need for sleep, finally drifted closed.

“That’s a beautiful melody,” she mumbled. “I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”

“Aye. It’s a song often sung wi’ the tale of the Fraser Faerie Wife. Some say it was she what brought it to us. There’s words to it, ken, but I dinna sing.”

Claire felt herself moving along with the music, wishing she had Jamie with her to dance with.

“Ellen,” Murtagh’s voice cracked a long time later. “Ellen used to sing it. She had a lovely voice. She didna sing it often. Mostly when Brian or one of the bairns couldna sleep.”

“Would you tell me the words? Not sing, just tell me?”

Murtagh nodded, letting the music bring itself back to the start.

“There’s many different versions o’ this song, ken. But I’ll tell ye the words for the Fraser version.”

“I’d like that.”

The deep, rich notes filled the room and Claire’s mind supplied her with images of the Fraser Wife.

“Sing me a song,” Murtagh began, his voice blending beautifully with the cello. “Of a lass that is gone… Say, could that lass be I?”

In her imagination, she could see the Fraser wife running to the standing stones to protect her beloved, terrified and heartbroken.

“Merry of soul she sailed on a dais, over the sea to Skye.”

The melody carried her away and Claire began to doze, absently wondering if Jamie was also dreaming of the Faerie Wife. Dimly, she was aware that the music had stopped and Murtagh had picked her up in his arms.

“Hush, lass,” he said softly. “I’m just puttin’ ye to bed. Jamie would have my head if he kent I left ye to sleep in a chair.”

“You’re wrong, you know,” she said, almost sounding drunk. “You’ve a lovely singing voice.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #takemeawaytocamelot #diversemediums #red jamie and the white lady au #claire fraser #also featuring: Master Raymond #also featuring: murtagh

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takemeawaytocamelot · 7 years

Text

Red Jamie and the White Lady - Part 10

Alright my lovelies! @outlandishchridhe is still busy doing her awesome nurse-y things, so we haven’t had a chance to plot anything for Vegas. But... I’ve got a bit of Red Jamie written, so I thought I’d spoil you all. Just remember, you asked for this. You’ll get 10 today and 11 on Thursday. But then you’ll have a full week to wait for 12. @diversemediums is a total rockstar and I love her brain. We’ve come up with some really great plans for the future of this series. Enjoy!

Catch up on part 9 HERE

Turning down the long drive, Claire hoped this was the right place. When she’d started searching for ‘Lallybroch’ in her mission to find Jamie, she’d come up with very little. One mention in a small newspaper had revealed its formal name: Broch Tuarach.

Armed with a proper name, finding the location had taken only minutes. Then she’d gotten in her car and started the drive. She didn’t know what to expect when she got there. Jamie was almost certainly not on the property, as that would be the first logical place to look for him. But maybe they’d told Jenny where they planned to settle next? That was just as unlikely, but Claire had no other options, no other way to find him.

She parked her car in an empty spot beside another car, praying someone would be home. Pulling on the big brass knocker, she did all she could to restrain her nerves. Her fingers began to twitch a little and she clenched them together to stop them. When the door opened, she was greeted by a tall, lanky man with mouse brown hair.

“Good evening, lass. What can I do for ye? If ye’ve something to sell, I’m afraid I’ll have to say no. My wife doesna like when I spend money wi’out her approval.”

Claire’s mouth opened, but she couldn’t make herself speak. She’d been expecting to meet a woman, not this strangely kind man.

“I, um…”

Nervous and uncomfortable, her eyes darted around, trying to find something safe to land on. That was why she noticed the prosthetic leg.

“Oh!” she said, marveling at the artistry of the piece. “That’s beautiful. How did it happen?”

“Och,” the man said, waving a hand. “Weel, ye ken there’s a monster in Loch Ness, aye? She and I met and she decided she wanted to take me wi’ her. She made off wi’ my leg instead. I’m banned from visiting Loch Ness ever again.”

At the start of his story, she’d been sure he was kidding. But by the end, she couldn’t tell.

“Ian, what are ye doing harassing visitors at this hour,” came a sharp voice.

When his face broke into a smile, Claire let out a breathy chuckle. Then a woman came around to stand beside him, her dark hair piled on top of her head. Claire could see some of Jamie in that face, the same eyes, same full lips, same nose. It had to be his sister.

“Jenny?”

The smiles on both their faces vanished in an instant, Ian stepping slightly in front of his wife.

“I dinna ken who ye are,” he said in a low, menacing voice. “But ye should leave now while ye still can.”

“Please,” she said, begging. “I need your help.”

Jenny’s blue eyes narrowed for a moment, as if she were concentrating on something.

“She knows Jamie,” she announced, though Claire wasn’t sure who to. “And she’s lookin’ for him.”

Ian stood tall, waiting for more information.

“You’re Claire,” she finally said.

“Jesus H. Bloody Christ, I am. I’m so sorry, I should have introduced myself, not frightened you both half to death. I’m Claire Beauchamp. I… I know Jamie and I’m worried about him. I don’t expect that he’s told you where he is, I just hoped maybe…” she trailed off, wondering what it was she’d hoped to gain from this.

“Ye came all the way out here to find him?” Ian asked, relaxing a little.

She met his eyes and nodded.

“Yes, I did. I thought he’d meant it, when he said we couldn’t be friends or be around each other. But then he… So I thought maybe he’d sent me away because of…”

“Aye,” Jenny said. “Come in before ye catch a cold out here, and tell me just why ye want to find my brother so bad.”

Jenny took them to the kitchen table and they all three sat. Murtagh and Jamie both had mentioned that Jenny was a Listener, whereas Jamie was a Seer. Claire wasn’t sure exactly how Jenny’s Gift worked, but she imagined all of her thoughts were laid out in the open.

“Aye,” Jenny interrupted Claire’s thought. “They are. No’ quite the way ye think, but close enough. Why is it ye want to find Jamie? Lots of people want to find him and use him for their own gain. What is it ye want?”

“I… I don’t know, actually. I thought I wanted him to explain why he thought giving me that book would give me closure. Or why he thought I could ever forget about him. I want to make sure he’s alright. He was in hospital not long ago because of his migraines. But of course, you probably knew that already...” she trailed off.

Claire wondered how it worked, listening to someone’s words as well as their thoughts. Her mind liked to skip down rabbit trails whenever it wasn’t directly engaged in something.

“Would ye stop thinkin’ so many questions?” Jenny demanded. “I canna get a good read on ye if all ye think about is how my Gift works.”

Claire blinked and ducked her head.

“I’m sorry.”

Forcing her mind to calm, she found herself thinking about the last time she’d seen Jamie; how exhausted he’d looked, the sadness in his eyes when he’d sent her away.

“Please,” Claire whispered again. “I have to see him. Do you know where Murtagh’s put him? Where he might be hiding out?”

Jenny exchanged a look with her husband before nodding once.

“Aye. I think I ken just where he is. Come wi’ me.”

Claire practically launched to her feet and trotted after Jenny. They got into Jenny’s car and drove around the edge of the property until they reached a place that was very well hidden. Why had Jenny brought her out here? A sudden flash of panic had her thinking about what Jenny might do to protect her brother’s secret.

“No,” Jenny said patiently. “I’m no’ gonna hit ye o’er the head wi’ a shovel and bury ye in a cave, so ye dinna have to worry about that. Ye said ye wanted to see Jamie again. Weel… He’s in there,” she nodded to the hillside.

“In where? I can’t see a cave entrance.”

“Aye, and that’s the point! Just walk up to that rowan tree. By the time ye get there, I’m sure you’ll ken how to get in.”

Claire got out and stared at the hillside, eyes locked on the tree.

“Thank you, Jenny.”

“Jamie needs ye, Claire,” she said. “Though he’s only doing what he thinks is best. Just remember what my Da always told us. ‘Frasers are stubborn as rocks, and just as thick heided.’ You’ll have to be just as stubborn.”

Smiling, Claire turned back toward the rowan tree.

“Oh, I am.”

***

Jamie lay on his bedroll, staring up at the soot-blackened ceiling of the cave. Shortly after they’d discovered this place, they’d set about making it safe to live in for a time. The chill inside was a problem they’d fixed, making strategic vent holes so the smoke from a fire could escape without giving away the location.

A log on the fire cracked and split, sending up a flurry of sparks. When he blinked the light from his eyes, an angel stood just inside the cave mouth. He sat up so quickly he knocked his head on a small jut of rock.

“Claire! What the hell are ye doing here?!”

“I’ve been looking for you,” she said, walking slowly toward him.

“But,” he began, before realizing he didn’t know what to say. “It isna safe!”

She nodded.

“I’ve been thinking about that over the last few days. I had safe, with Frank. But I realized something, that night after the Faerie Hill. I don’t want safe.”

“What do ye want, then?” he asked, hoping she couldn’t hear his heart speeding.

She smiled softly then, eyes filled with tenderness.

“I want passion and excitement. I want to be surprised by what each day brings. I want to try new things and scare myself. But, above all that… What I want is you.”

Christ.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he backed away from her until he hit the cave wall. It wasn’t a very large cave and he was a big man. There wasn’t much space for him to escape.

“No,” he said, though his voice shook. “There’s nothing here for ye, save violence and danger.”

“Yes, you said that, in exactly that tone, on Craigh Na Dun.”

“What about Frank?”

She took another step near him.

“What about him?”

“Ye dinna think he’ll be a wee bit upset at ye offering yerself to another man?”

“I’m not his to worry about anymore.”

She was right in front of him now, close enough to touch. He balled his fists, resisting the urge. He’d seen her die, felt the weight of her in his arms after she’d passed. That future would happen if she stayed with him.

“Claire, ye canna. It’s no’ safe.”

“Didn’t you just hear me? I don’t care if it’s not safe, as long as I’ve got you. Jamie, I…”

Her eyes went wide for a moment and he suddenly worried if his vision was happening now. He leaned forward, adrenaline rushing through his veins. Then, a sharp intake of breath later, she was staring up at him, smiling.

“Are ye alright?”

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“Says the Englishwoman to the powerful psychic?”

She chuckled.

“I suppose, when you put it that way.”

“What is it ye thought of just then?”

“I realized that, though I haven’t known you for very long…” she stopped, tears brimming. “I know that I love you. I didn’t think anyone, especially me, could fall in love so quickly. But it happened, with you. And I simply won’t live without you, Jamie Fraser and that’s all about it.”

He’d stopped breathing. It couldn’t be true, she couldn’t have just said those words. This was another vision, a strong one. But he could smell the floral scent of her; the fire lighting of the tendrils of hair that curled about her face.

“Did you hear me?” she asked softly, eyes shining.

Jamie blinked.

“Aye,” he said slowly. “I heard ye. But Claire, ye… Ye canna…”

She couldn’t. And yet, he found himself drawn toward her, a hairsbreadth away from touching her.

“Can’t I? You can’t tell me that sharing your hospital bed didn’t feel right. That this whole mess that started the day I walked into your shop for a reading that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

She reached for his hands then, her touch cool and light as a butterfly’s wing.

“I want to be with you, whatever that means. If I have to hide out in this cave with you for the next thirty years, I’ll do it.”

She meant it. Blessed Mary, mother of God she meant it.

“Ye want to stay wi’ me?” he asked carefully. “Ye’d choose to? No’ just because ye think I need a good doctor around?”

Claire’s brows drew together slightly, but the curve of her lips never left.

“You probably do, if those migraines and nosebleeds get any worse - that’s just an added bonus. But no, that’s not the reason.”

She lifted his left hand then, touching his palm to her cheek.

“I want to be here because that’s where you are. Nothing more.”

Without a conscious thought, he had her in his arms, pulled tight against him. He peppered her face with kisses, feeling the way her smile rounded her cheeks. Then her hands took hold of his face, keeping him still long enough to give him a proper kiss.

Lust burned through him in a way he’d never experienced. Her mouth moved against his, eager and hungry. He was beginning to lose himself in her, in the way she’d started churning her hips, her hand holding him to her by the nape of his neck.

Regretfully, he pulled himself away. He’d never seen a lovelier sight. Her eyes were dark and wanting, like they were in the vision they’d shared all those weeks ago. Lips swollen and hair tousled… aye, he wanted her quite badly.

"As much as I want ye Sassenach," he said, kissing her softly between her brows. "I'll no' have the first time be shivering on a hard slab of rock."

An interesting combination of disappointment and amusement crossed her face.

“Always the gentleman.”

He kissed her again, already addicted to the taste of her lips.

“Aye, I try to be.”

“I wasn’t sure how this would end,” she said, almost shyly. “I’m… I’m not sure where I’m supposed to stay tonight.”

“Wi’ me,” he answered without hesitation.

She looked around the small cave.

“I did say I’d hide here for thirty years with you. I suppose I should get used to it now.”

He laughed, opening a small chest with extra blankets and quilts.

“Aye, ye did. But ye canna go back to the manor house right now. No’ wi’ the sun gone. Ye’d break your neck getting down that hill. Just stay wi’ me. I’ll keep ye warm.”

“I thought you said ‘not on a hard slab of rock’?” she said, restraining a giggle.

Throwing another blanket down, he indicated her to join him.

“Aye, I did. And I meant it. But that doesna mean I canna keep ye warm, Sassenach.”

Almost as they had when he’d been in hospital, they lay down on the floor, his arm curled around her. He’d never felt anything so perfect before. The smile on her face gave him a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“Jamie?” she asked quietly, fingers tracing over the back of his hand.

“Aye, Sassenach?”

“What are we going to do now? What does this mean?”

He sighed, burying his face in her hair.

“I dinna ken. No’ yet, anyway. But whatever may come, we’ll face it together, aye?”

“So when you said you’d take me home, you meant…”

“To Lallybroch.”

He watched as she bit her lip to keep from smiling. The sight made him want to burst with joy and restrained lust all at once.

“Will you have to stay out here?” she asked, not looking at him.

“Maybe not. If Jenny or Ian get visitors, I’ll come out here. But, perhaps we could spend a night or two in the manor house.”

“We?”

His heart began to race, thinking over their earlier exchange and how he’d felt when he’d kissed her.

“Uh, aye. If ye want, I mean. I’m no’ expectin’... I mean ye dinna have to… if ye’d rather stay in Broch Morda, we could-”

“I didn’t come all this way to stay in Broch Morda,” she said, turning her head to look back at him. “I’d rather stay with you.”

“Oh,” he said stupidly, but absurdly pleased. “Alright. We’ll talk wi’ Jenny in the morning and see what room she’ll set aside for us.”

Claire made a contented sound that reminded him of a satisfied cat and her lips curled.

“Us. I like the way that sounds.”

She fell peacefully to sleep then, her lips still smiling. He watched her for a time, listening to the wind whistle through the cave and the crackle of the fire. There was no telling when her death would come, but, he decided, it wouldn’t be today.

A few hours later, though he couldn’t be sure how long, he woke realizing Claire was shivering. Looking around, he saw the fire had died out. Muttering Gaelic curses, he dug through the small chest for the book of matches. As he set another log onto the fire, he heard her stirring. Turning, he watched a smile come to her face as the log caught, giving her pale skin a ruddy glow. She had rounded features, he thought, though it wasn’t at all a bad thing. Nothing in the world could make her less than perfect to him.

With another log on the fire to ensure it would burn until morning, he settled in behind her again, wrapping the thick wool plaid around them tightly. Shifting to be more comfortable, he allowed his fingers to play through her soft curls.

“Rest, mo nighean donn,” he breathed into her ear. “Tomorrow, I’ll take ye home.”

Continue to Part 11

#outlander #outlander fanfic #red jamie and the white lady au #jamie x claire #also featuring: jenny #also featuring: ian

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