#now i would liks to point out i tried to get rid of his wrinkles as much as i could in the middle photo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imagineclaireandjamie · 7 years

Note

I'm in desperate need of fluff and things outside this ridiculous shit going on in the world! Would one of or all of you amazing writers PLEASE write a fluff piece? Baby Fraser's? Baby MacKenzie's? Just something happy and not in the least bit tainted with the destruction of our actual reality. Thanks!

Murtagh on the Ridge AU

“Sorry,” Roger apologized as he shifted Jem down from his arms and hiked the empty game sack higher over his shoulder. He touched the knife at his belt and the bag with their midday meal slung over his other shoulder before nodding to himself, his mental checklist complete. “Bree just wanted to––”

“Aye,” Jamie interrupted with a raised hand. “It’s the lad’s first time on the hunt––”

Murtagh scoffed but Jamie ignored him.

“––I ken why ye’re late. Let’s no waste any more time or we’ll no be reaching home again till dark.”

“If we were goin’ a proper hunt it wouldna be an issue,” Murtagh muttered. He adored Jem in small doses but spending an entire day with the three-year-old without his mother to pass him off to when he got fussy wasn’t Murtagh’s idea of a productive way to spend the day.

“It’s how you and Da started me and Willie,” Jamie reminded Murtagh. “Or do ye no stand by yer own methods?”

“I wasna so old then as I am now. I had all the time in the world to waste on yer blatherin’ about the woods and scarin’ off the worthwhile game. Now…” he sighed as the ground began to tilt beneath their feet, the incline getting sharper and his breath coming dearer. “Now I should prefer an easier hunt––home in time for luncheon and an easy afternoon cleaning and butchering followed by a nice bit of fresh roasted meat for supper.” He practically smacked his lips at the thought.

“That being so, checking the snare line isna exactly a difficult task though it can be as tedious as waiting for a decent size stag to come along. Can yield more meat than a poor day’s hunting too, and ye ken that well,” Jamie teased.

“I wan Grandda carry me,” Jem complained already bored with walking.

“Now Jemmy,” Roger began to lecture but Murtagh interrupted.

“Jamie, carry the wee lad or we’ll ne’er catch nothing.”

Jamie beckoned for Jem to toddle over then got down on his knees and lowered his voice. “Tell me what ye see wee man.” He swept his hand and his eyes around the undergrowth. Jem’s eyes watched his grandfather intently then he got down to his knees and mimicked the movements at a much faster rate.

“Do ye see where our path lies?”

Jem screwed up his mouth and narrowed his eyes before pointing in a random direction. “Tha way.”

Jamie took the little hand and drew it a few inches to the left. “Do ye see the way through the trees there?” he asked. “Tha’s the way our line of snares is set.” Rising to his feet once more, Jamie surprised Jem by taking hold of him under the arms, swinging him up over his head, and finally settling the lad on his shoulders. Jem laughed loudly while Murtagh rolled his eyes and continued along their route, muttering under his breath. “Might be easier for ye to see it from up there,” Jamie said with a firm hold on Jem’s feet, keeping him safely in place.

Jem’s fingers wormed their way through Jamie’s hair clutching large clumps and treating them like reins. “Go, Grandda,” he instructed, pulling hard and making Jamie cry out. Murtagh laughed and Roger scolded.

“Go easy on him, Jemmy. Grandda’ll no let ye ride there again if ye pull his hair out at the roots.”

“What sorts of game to ye think we’ll find in our snares?” Jamie asked. They were making better time to the first trap and despite his head start, Jamie and Jem soon passed Murtagh on their way.

“A stag!” Jem exclaimed. “Like a one ye caught when it was before it rained that time.”

“Well, I caught that one wi’ a bullet from my gun, no a snare,” Jamie explained. “A stag would have little trouble getting free of a wee snare bein’ so big. What sorts of stews and pies do yer mam and gran usually make when I’ve come back from the snare run?”

Jem draped himself over Jamie’s head trying to peer down into his grandfather’s face. Jamie had to stop walking to look up at him, laughing. “Rabbit an’ squirrel an’ peasant an’––”

“Aye,” Roger cut him off, chuckling. “And those are the sorts of animals we’re like to catch today.”

“If we’re lucky,” Murtagh muttered. “Now hush. We’re comin’ up on the first trap and ye dinna want to make matters worse if ye’ve got a scared or injured animal tha’s got nothin’ to lose.”

“Why?” Jem whispered loudly in Jamie’s ear.

“Just because a creature’s caught, doesna mean he’ll no fight ye,” Jamie whispered back. “When ye play wi’ Germain and the lasses and one of ‘em catches ye, do ye no try to get away again and keep playing?”

“Isa animal gonna bite ye like Joanie bit Germain when he pulled her hair?”

“It’ll probably try,” Roger informed Jem.

Murtagh was inching closer to where the snare had been set, a stick in his hand pushing back some of the surrounding brush to see if he could find it. He finally looked up shaking his head.

“Tripped it but didna catch the wee fiend,” he told them as Jamie set Jem down and they got closer.

“Do ye ken what we do now?” Jamie asked Jem.

“Go the next one?”

“First, we need to set this one again. Now, I’m going to take it slow so ye can watch but ye’re no to touch. When we get back to the house we’ll see if yer grannie can spare some of her string for ye to practice yer knots with so next time ye can help set one yerself.” Jamie’s hands moved with practiced ease even as he tried to go slow.

Roger clapped Jamie on the shoulder before joining Murtagh and offering him a bit of cheese from the pack he carried. When the snare was just about finished, Murtagh and Roger started off ahead of Jamie and Jem.

“Jemmy, what say we see if we can track the way they go?” Jamie suggested.

“But they goin’ tha way,” he pointed.

“Aye, but we’re no goin’ to look at them,” he remarked taking his hand and using it to direct the lad’s head to the ground. “Look there––do ye see that? See the shape there? Who do ye think left that?”

“Da! There’s nother one,” he exclaimed following the footprints Roger had left in the soft loamy forest floor.

“And here––see how this is broken here? Tha’s Murtagh’s doing. He’s doin’ it to mark the way we come through so we can find our way back easily if somethin’ happens.”

Roger and Murtagh had stopped up ahead suggesting that this second snare had succeeded in catching something.

Jamie held a finger to his lips and Jem covered his mouth to suppress a laugh. They crept up on Murtagh and Roger but Jem’s giggling gave them away. Roger pretended to be surprised but Murtagh just frowned at Jamie then went back to staring at the creature rustling behind a huckleberry bush. It hadn’t given up trying to free itself so it had probably be caught recently. They saw flashes of black fur but couldn’t make out what it was.

“Seems bigger’n a hare,” Murtagh commented, his arms crossed over his chest. “Bit of fight in it too.”

“He’s stuck,” Jem observed sadly.

Jamie took up a long stick to try and poke at the huckleberry bush and get a better look at the creature they’d caught. “We need to take care. What’s the one Claire said ye should be wary of when it’s out in the day?”

“The one wears a mask,” Murtagh nodded.

“Raccoon,” Roger confirmed. “Could be one of them.”

“I’ma let him go,” Jem declared rushing towards the bush.

“No!” the three adults hollered as Jem struggled to push the branches of the bush out of his way and they got a better view of the squat black and white body of the creature who suddenly felt threatened.

“You guys are back earlier than––Mother of God, what’s that smell?” Brianna called as she pulled her arm from the laundry tub and buried her nose in the crook of her wet elbow.

“I don’t think we need to ask you what you caught,” Claire remarked, blinking away tears as the smell made her eyes water. “The real question is how many of you did it get?”

“Jem bore the brunt of it, I’m afraid,” Roger said apologetically. Jem was curled up against his chest, his clothes and hair still wet from an attempt to wash the smell away in the river. “We all tried a wash but I dinna think it’s done any good.”

“There’s not much that does help, I’m afraid.” Claire approached Jamie warily, her nose wrinkling as she got closer. “You’re sure Jem got the worst of it?”

“I was closest to him and tried to get him away,” Jamie explained.

Claire moved on to Murtagh. “You’re not too bad.”

“Jamie makes a fine barricade to hide behind,” he responded in much better spirits than the others now that they were finally home. “Is there naught ye can do for the stink on the wee lad?”

Jem had clearly cried enough to thoroughly exhaust himself yet still looked close to tears. Brianna inched closer and Jem opened his arms, eager to be taken and comforted by his mother.

“Bonjour Monsieur Le Pew,” Brianna greeted him as she took him from Roger and cradled him against her chest. With Jem’s face safely nuzzled against her neck, she started making faces at Roger, wrinkling her nose and trying to breathe through her mouth before mouthing to her mother, I can taste it, ugh.

“Monsieur Le Pew?” Jamie asked Claire quietly.

“I’ll explain later,” she whispered back.

“Didn’t they say that when a dog gets sprayed by a skunk you’re supposed to bathe them in tomato juice?” There was a hopeful note in her voice as her eyes slid from Claire to her vegetable garden by the side of the house.

“It’s an old wives tale that we’re not going to bother with,” Claire put her foot down. “We’re not wasting the tomatoes. All it does is mask the odor for a while but there’s no getting rid of it I’m afraid. Only time will help with that.”

“Time and a good airing out,” Jamie amended reaching over to take Jem from his mother’s arms. “Well, Jemmy, I think we’re goin’ to be sleeping outside tonight. Dinna want to be bringing the skunk smell indoors do we.”

“But whatta ‘bout the animals?” he asked warily.

“They’ll no want to get too close wi’ us smellin’ like we do. Yer da and I’ll show ye how to make a proper camp and sleep under yer plaid and the stars.”

“And if it’s all right wi’ you, Claire, I’ll sleep in my proper bed tonight,” Murtagh made his appeal.

Claire sniffed at him again and frowned. “You’ll have to stay in your room and keep the window open.”

#Anonymous #;mod lenny #Murtagh on the Ridge AU #featuring: murtagh #featuring: roger #featuring: jem #featuring: bree

118 notes · View notes