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I don’t think this news is going to be too terribly upsetting, but you’re going to have Atonement around for a bit longer than initially anticipated. I cracked my laptop screen on vacation 😖 so I didn’t get a chance to write much, and I’m falling behind. Will have to adjust the schedule a bit!

I’ll still post on Fridays, but it definitely won’t be this coming Friday 😅 Just hang in there, we are so close to the end now it won’t take long!

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30 Days of Period Drama Women (7/30) CAITRÍONA BALFE as CLAIRE RANDALL/FRASER OUTLANDER (2014-present)

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Atonement Ch 52: Where You Belong

Jamie had picked her forget-me-nots on his walk that morning. When he’d come back to Lallybroch, he had one arm around his sister, and in the other he carried a bouquet of the small, delicate wildflowers.

“Something blue,” he murmured into a kiss as Claire met him just inside the door. Heart softening with gratitude, she’d captured his lips again as he started to draw back, trying to slow the moment, savor it a little while longer.

That was, until wee Jamie had started making gagging noises at the sight, and his mother had smothered his cheeky mouth with her hand, and Maggie had howled with laughter, and that was the end of that. 

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Jamie had turned away to hoist his namesake over his shoulder. “Och, yucky, is it?” he’d growled, dangling his nephew upside down and tickling him mercilessly. “Yucky, is that what I heard?”

Claire found herself smiling at the memory as she blinked back to the present and caught her own gaze in the mirror. They’d considered incorporating the forget-me-nots into her wedding bouquet, but in a moment of inspiration, Jenny had suggested they try tucking them into her hair instead. The end result was breathtaking: a braided crown circled her head, adorned with the tiny blue wildflowers and sprigs of baby’s breath, while the rest of her hair cascaded down her back in a waterfall of curls. Just behind her left ear, seamlessly tucking the end of the braid into the beginning, was the pearl-inlaid hair comb that Claire’s mother had worn on her wedding day. 

Mum would have loved this, she thought, her eyes going damp before she quickly dabbed them with a handkerchief. In every way that mattered — save one — she and Jamie had married on a cliffside last winter, and considered one another husband and wife ever since. All along, they’d agreed that the ceremony today was simply meant to be a celebration they could share with their friends and families.

But Claire’s family was gone. 

Throughout the wedding planning, Jamie had tried so earnestly to advocate for her, pausing often to ask what she wanted, what visions and dreams she had for this day. No matter how many times she gently reminded him, he couldn’t seem to accept that she’d never really had any aspirational hopes for a wedding — at least, not since she was ten years old.

It was a given that Mum was never going to be here to help her into her dress; Dad was never going to be here to walk her down the aisle. Uncle Lamb had died before she had her first serious relationship, so she’d never even had the chance to entertain the idea of him as an escort before that was lost too.

When she and Jamie had sat down to make their guest list, she’d neatly and carefully written out the names of everyone she believed would be willing to travel overseas for the occasion. Jamie had stared in silence at the two names for a long time, palpably distressed by the imbalance between his side and hers. With a dry, awkward little laugh, she’d reminded him that there was something to be said for quality over quantity; in all fairness, the couple had far more support from Joe and Gill than the scores of Mackenzies and Frasers combined. 

He hadn’t had a rebuttal for that. It was true, after all.

Keep reading...

[smashing-teacups]

Atonement Ch 52: Where You Belong

Jamie had picked her forget-me-nots on his walk that morning. When he’d come back to Lallybroch, he had one arm around his sister, and in the other he carried a bouquet of the small, delicate wildflowers.

“Something blue,” he murmured into a kiss as Claire met him just inside the door. Heart softening with gratitude, she’d captured his lips again as he started to draw back, trying to slow the moment, savor it a little while longer.

That was, until wee Jamie had started making gagging noises at the sight, and his mother had smothered his cheeky mouth with her hand, and Maggie had howled with laughter, and that was the end of that. 

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Jamie had turned away to hoist his namesake over his shoulder. “Och, yucky, is it?” he’d growled, dangling his nephew upside down and tickling him mercilessly. “Yucky, is that what I heard?”

Claire found herself smiling at the memory as she blinked back to the present and caught her own gaze in the mirror. They’d considered incorporating the forget-me-nots into her wedding bouquet, but in a moment of inspiration, Jenny had suggested they try tucking them into her hair instead. The end result was breathtaking: a braided crown circled her head, adorned with the tiny blue wildflowers and sprigs of baby’s breath, while the rest of her hair cascaded down her back in a waterfall of curls. Just behind her left ear, seamlessly tucking the end of the braid into the beginning, was the pearl-inlaid hair comb that Claire’s mother had worn on her wedding day. 

Mum would have loved this, she thought, her eyes going damp before she quickly dabbed them with a handkerchief. In every way that mattered — save one — she and Jamie had married on a cliffside last winter, and considered one another husband and wife ever since. All along, they’d agreed that the ceremony today was simply meant to be a celebration they could share with their friends and families.

But Claire’s family was gone. 

Throughout the wedding planning, Jamie had tried so earnestly to advocate for her, pausing often to ask what she wanted, what visions and dreams she had for this day. No matter how many times she gently reminded him, he couldn’t seem to accept that she’d never really had any aspirational hopes for a wedding — at least, not since she was ten years old.

It was a given that Mum was never going to be here to help her into her dress; Dad was never going to be here to walk her down the aisle. Uncle Lamb had died before she had her first serious relationship, so she’d never even had the chance to entertain the idea of him as an escort before that was lost too.

When she and Jamie had sat down to make their guest list, she’d neatly and carefully written out the names of everyone she believed would be willing to travel overseas for the occasion. Jamie had stared in silence at the two names for a long time, palpably distressed by the imbalance between his side and hers. With a dry, awkward little laugh, she’d reminded him that there was something to be said for quality over quantity; in all fairness, the couple had far more support from Joe and Gill than the scores of Mackenzies and Frasers combined. 

He hadn’t had a rebuttal for that. It was true, after all.

Keep reading...

[smashing-teacups]

i have burned for you for so long, do you not know that? (or, jamie fraser killing us with A+ lines once again)

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Atonement Ch 51: When Everything's Changed, And Nothing at All

Claire spent the prescribed three minute wait scrolling through her texts from that morning, all of them from Jenny.

05:53 Ahhh, happy wedding day!!!!!! 

05:59 Ian’s making coffee, head over anytime

06:00 Well, hopefully you’re still asleep but whenever you’re awake

06:25 I made a french toast bake, just needs to be popped in the oven. Fruit salad too.

06:26 Oh and I did find the diffuser attachment! I knew it was here somewhere. Found it under a mountain of those mesh pants they give you postpartum 😂

Rubbing a curved finger absently over her lip, Claire glanced at the stopwatch on her phone, then opened Instagram in search of further distraction. Just as she’d hoped, the top stories on her feed were Gill and Joe’s photos en route to Scotland, with open-mouthed grins and an abundance of exclamation points. Thankfully, she got so caught up reading their posts — a number of former coworkers were in the comments, saying the kindest things about her and Jamie — that by the time she looked back at the stopwatch app, a full five minutes and twenty-two seconds had passed.

Immediately on her feet, she lunged for the bathroom counter and snatched up the test stick without pausing to blink or breathe or—

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck…

Flinging it into the rubbish with a harsh clang of metal, she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Goddamn it. Bloody… fucking…”

She could feel Jamie behind her even before his hands settled, tender and soothing, on her upper arms. Still, she stood just as she was for a moment — breathing hard, palms pressed so tight to her eye sockets that the orbital bones ached — before at last she relented and turned into the sanctuary of his embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his neck. “I was so sure it—” She swallowed. “I wanted so desperately for it to be a wedding present for you.”

Jamie was already shaking his head, and he didn’t stop as he took her by the shoulders and eased her back to look at him. “Claire… Elizabeth… Fraser,” he admonished, so gently that her welling tears spilled over. “You are the only gift I will ever need.”

“That’s not true,” she told him brokenly, her lip quivering.

“It is.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he began swaying her slowly from side to side. “You are my world, mo ghràidh. You and you alone.”

Keep reading...

[smashing-teacups]

Atonement Ch 51: When Everything's Changed, And Nothing at All

Claire spent the prescribed three minute wait scrolling through her texts from that morning, all of them from Jenny.

05:53 Ahhh, happy wedding day!!!!!! 

05:59 Ian’s making coffee, head over anytime

06:00 Well, hopefully you’re still asleep but whenever you’re awake

06:25 I made a french toast bake, just needs to be popped in the oven. Fruit salad too.

06:26 Oh and I did find the diffuser attachment! I knew it was here somewhere. Found it under a mountain of those mesh pants they give you postpartum 😂

Rubbing a curved finger absently over her lip, Claire glanced at the stopwatch on her phone, then opened Instagram in search of further distraction. Just as she’d hoped, the top stories on her feed were Gill and Joe’s photos en route to Scotland, with open-mouthed grins and an abundance of exclamation points. Thankfully, she got so caught up reading their posts — a number of former coworkers were in the comments, saying the kindest things about her and Jamie — that by the time she looked back at the stopwatch app, a full five minutes and twenty-two seconds had passed.

Immediately on her feet, she lunged for the bathroom counter and snatched up the test stick without pausing to blink or breathe or—

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck…

Flinging it into the rubbish with a harsh clang of metal, she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Goddamn it. Bloody… fucking…”

She could feel Jamie behind her even before his hands settled, tender and soothing, on her upper arms. Still, she stood just as she was for a moment — breathing hard, palms pressed so tight to her eye sockets that the orbital bones ached — before at last she relented and turned into the sanctuary of his embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his neck. “I was so sure it—” She swallowed. “I wanted so desperately for it to be a wedding present for you.”

Jamie was already shaking his head, and he didn’t stop as he took her by the shoulders and eased her back to look at him. “Claire… Elizabeth… Fraser,” he admonished, so gently that her welling tears spilled over. “You are the only gift I will ever need.”

“That’s not true,” she told him brokenly, her lip quivering.

“It is.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he began swaying her slowly from side to side. “You are my world, mo ghràidh. You and you alone.”

Keep reading...

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Sam + Caitríona | Outlander + Blood of my Blood Gathering

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the more things change the more they stay the same

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Atonement Chapter 50: Mortar and Mend

Jamie saw the arc of headlights across the window just a few seconds before his mobile buzzed with a text.

I’m here.

Door’s unlocked, he answered. I’d come open it, but I’m acting as a pillow just now. 

Three dots appeared and disappeared twice before Claire texted back, It feels strange, just… walking into their house. Didn’t go so well last time.

He let his thumb hover over the keypad for a moment before trying a bit of humor. Current occupants are much more receptive, promise. 

A relieved emoji and a heart followed in quick succession, and a few seconds later the front door opened with a familiar click and creak. Presumably following the light of the telly in the otherwise dark house, Claire peered around the corner of the sitting room a few seconds later. The nervous tension in her face softened at the sight of him, curled up on the sofa with one bairn asleep on his lap and the other slumped against his side. Leaning her head against the archway, she stood for a while just soaking in the sight, her eyes gone warm as melted caramel.

With a sleepy smile in return, Jamie gave her a half-wave. “Didna want to risk movin’ ‘em,” he murmured. “They had me outnumbered.”

“You look very cosy,” Claire whispered. 

“Ach, well.” Wincing, he tried to rotate his left shoulder under the deadweight that was his nephew, then let it go slack again. “Was a bit cosier ‘fore my arm went numb.”

With a breath of a laugh, his wife took a few steps forward, then held her hands out tentatively. “Do you want some help putting them to bed?”

“Aye, I would.” He nodded at the baby sprawled face-down across his lap. “If you can take her, I’ll get him.”

Although she looked uncertain about how best to move the sleeping child, Claire finally got her thumbs under Kitty’s arms and lifted her up to her shoulder. The wean only stirred long enough to rub her nose and flop her sweaty head from one side to the other, then went boneless again with a sigh. Jamie watched carefully as one emotion after another flickered across Claire’s glass face, the nerves and exhaustion and regret and tenderness so raw and so close to the surface that it looked very much as though she might cry.

She probably needed to. It had been quite the day for all of them.

Keep reading...

[smashing-teacups]

Atonement Chapter 50: Mortar and Mend

Jamie saw the arc of headlights across the window just a few seconds before his mobile buzzed with a text.

I’m here.

Door’s unlocked, he answered. I’d come open it, but I’m acting as a pillow just now. 

Three dots appeared and disappeared twice before Claire texted back, It feels strange, just… walking into their house. Didn’t go so well last time.

He let his thumb hover over the keypad for a moment before trying a bit of humor. Current occupants are much more receptive, promise. 

A relieved emoji and a heart followed in quick succession, and a few seconds later the front door opened with a familiar click and creak. Presumably following the light of the telly in the otherwise dark house, Claire peered around the corner of the sitting room a few seconds later. The nervous tension in her face softened at the sight of him, curled up on the sofa with one bairn asleep on his lap and the other slumped against his side. Leaning her head against the archway, she stood for a while just soaking in the sight, her eyes gone warm as melted caramel.

With a sleepy smile in return, Jamie gave her a half-wave. “Didna want to risk movin’ ‘em,” he murmured. “They had me outnumbered.”

“You look very cosy,” Claire whispered. 

“Ach, well.” Wincing, he tried to rotate his left shoulder under the deadweight that was his nephew, then let it go slack again. “Was a bit cosier ‘fore my arm went numb.”

With a breath of a laugh, his wife took a few steps forward, then held her hands out tentatively. “Do you want some help putting them to bed?”

“Aye, I would.” He nodded at the baby sprawled face-down across his lap. “If you can take her, I’ll get him.”

Although she looked uncertain about how best to move the sleeping child, Claire finally got her thumbs under Kitty’s arms and lifted her up to her shoulder. The wean only stirred long enough to rub her nose and flop her sweaty head from one side to the other, then went boneless again with a sigh. Jamie watched carefully as one emotion after another flickered across Claire’s glass face, the nerves and exhaustion and regret and tenderness so raw and so close to the surface that it looked very much as though she might cry.

She probably needed to. It had been quite the day for all of them.

Keep reading...

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What you don’t ken, you’ll learn. We’ll learn. I do love you. I love you too, mo nighean donn.

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Thank You!!!

Just logged on to AO3 to start replying to comments, and happened upon this staggering milestone by chance:

Atonement is officially the first fic in the Outlander fandom to hit 5K kudos, and I'm extraordinarily grateful -- truly, cannot repeat it enough -- to still have readers following along for the end of this story, to those who have been around since chapter 1 back in 2019, and to those who just started this week, and to everyone in between. Your encouragement has kept me writing at all hours of the day and night, trying to carve time out to work on it whenever I can.

I'm deeply honored. Thank you, readers.

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Atonement Chapter 49: In the Blink of an Eye

“Okay, but question…” On the phone screen, Gillian narrowed her eyes, raising her pointer finger to draw connecting lines in the air as she pondered aloud. “If ye had the bastard wi’ all that evidence, why wouldn’t ye go after him in court? Then he would have to serve his time and pay ye for damages.” Glancing up from the video call, Claire exchanged a knowing look with her husband. It was a question they fully anticipated from everyone they shared the story with — and this was only the first run. 

“Because,” she answered slowly, fighting a smile, “Jamie makes a far better storyteller than he does a solicitor.”

As realization dawned, Gill’s mouth dropped open with a scandalized gasp. “No! Wait… nooo! Oh my God, did ye make the whole thing up?!”

“I did not,” Jamie insisted. At Claire’s one-eyed squint, he held up an appeasing hand. “I mean, I might’ve… embellished a wee bit…”

With a high-pitched shriek, Gillian scrambled closer to the phone so her mouth took up a comically large portion of the screen. “Well ye had me feckin’ fooled! Jesus, Mary and— Hold on. Hold on, I need a drink. I was no’ prepared for this. Stay right there.”  Both Claire and Jamie snuffled with laughter as they listened to her clomp about her flat, muttering to herself. “Bluffed his way through the whole feckin’ thing, oh… my God, Fraser. Ma heart’s near tae poundin’ out ma chest and I wasna even there. Mac na galla…” The phone rustled for a moment as she plopped down in front of it again, legs crossed, large wine glass in hand. “Alright, I’m back. Start over. What—Which part was the lie?!

Keep reading...

[smashing-teacups]

Atonement Chapter 49: In the Blink of an Eye

“Okay, but question…” On the phone screen, Gillian narrowed her eyes, raising her pointer finger to draw connecting lines in the air as she pondered aloud. “If ye had the bastard wi’ all that evidence, why wouldn’t ye go after him in court? Then he would have to serve his time and pay ye for damages.” Glancing up from the video call, Claire exchanged a knowing look with her husband. It was a question they fully anticipated from everyone they shared the story with — and this was only the first run. 

“Because,” she answered slowly, fighting a smile, “Jamie makes a far better storyteller than he does a solicitor.”

As realization dawned, Gill’s mouth dropped open with a scandalized gasp. “No! Wait… nooo! Oh my God, did ye make the whole thing up?!”

“I did not,” Jamie insisted. At Claire’s one-eyed squint, he held up an appeasing hand. “I mean, I might’ve… embellished a wee bit…”

With a high-pitched shriek, Gillian scrambled closer to the phone so her mouth took up a comically large portion of the screen. “Well ye had me feckin’ fooled! Jesus, Mary and— Hold on. Hold on, I need a drink. I was no’ prepared for this. Stay right there.”  Both Claire and Jamie snuffled with laughter as they listened to her clomp about her flat, muttering to herself. “Bluffed his way through the whole feckin’ thing, oh… my God, Fraser. Ma heart’s near tae poundin’ out ma chest and I wasna even there. Mac na galla…” The phone rustled for a moment as she plopped down in front of it again, legs crossed, large wine glass in hand. “Alright, I’m back. Start over. What—Which part was the lie?!

Keep reading...

[smashing-teacups]

Atonement Ch 48: Chess

Randall was five minutes early, just as Claire had said to expect.

It was uncanny, watching him in those first few seconds after he’d stepped into the pub. The gentleman who stood just inside the door, shaking raindrops from his umbrella and folding a trench coat neatly over one arm, was almost unrecognizable as the belligerent drunk from all those months ago. Enough alcohol could make a havering fool out of any man, true enough — but with Frank it was so much more than that.

He’s a sociopath, Jamie. He heard his wife’s last piece of advice as clearly as if she were sitting beside him, could still feel the urgent press of her palms against his cheeks. Don’t underestimate him. 

Perhaps he should have been more nervous than he was, watching his would-be killer walk straight toward him with calculating eyes in an expressionless face. But after two weeks of rigorous preparation, he simply felt ready to get on with it, ready to close this chapter of their lives for good. 

“Good evening, Mr. Randall,” he said, eerily calm, as Frank slid into the leather booth opposite him. “Thank you for joining me.”

Keep reading...

[smashing-teacups]

Atonement Ch 48: Chess

Randall was five minutes early, just as Claire had said to expect.

It was uncanny, watching him in those first few seconds after he’d stepped into the pub. The gentleman who stood just inside the door, shaking raindrops from his umbrella and folding a trench coat neatly over one arm, was almost unrecognizable as the belligerent drunk from all those months ago. Enough alcohol could make a havering fool out of any man, true enough — but with Frank it was so much more than that.

He’s a sociopath, Jamie. He heard his wife’s last piece of advice as clearly as if she were sitting beside him, could still feel the urgent press of her palms against his cheeks. Don’t underestimate him. 

Perhaps he should have been more nervous than he was, watching his would-be killer walk straight toward him with calculating eyes in an expressionless face. But after two weeks of rigorous preparation, he simply felt ready to get on with it, ready to close this chapter of their lives for good. 

“Good evening, Mr. Randall,” he said, eerily calm, as Frank slid into the leather booth opposite him. “Thank you for joining me.”

Keep reading...