#i already cried earlier man i cannae do this again.

[greelin]

oh god. I’ll Be Your Mirror scene.

[bee-kathony]

The Oath | Ch. 9 “A Choice”

a/n: finally -- we find out where this fic gets it’s name! Thank you so much everyone for the love you’ve given this story and for being so invested, I love you all! <3

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 

Claire ended up inviting him inside and she left him sitting at the small kitchen table while she went to the bathroom. Her eyes were puffy from crying, but she felt a peace she hadn’t felt since she’d found out about the pregnancy.

Jamie knew now and the only thing she needed to do was figure out where they stood. Easy enough right?

Splashing cool water on her face and neck, Claire took a deep breath and rested her hip against the sink. It was already going better than she thought. She imagined a scenario in her head of telling Jamie about the baby and him leaving her, wanting nothing to do with them.

It’s why she had waited this long to not tell him. If she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that she might not have ever told him had they not bumped into each other. Drying her face off, she then tied her hair up into a bun on top of her head and walked back out into the kitchen. He was sitting there with a cup of tea, his eyes focused on the table and he had a very serious expression on his face.

“Don’t think too hard,” Claire smiled warmly as she took the seat next to him.

“Feeling better?” He smiled softly, whatever thoughts he’d had leaving his mind as he looked at her.

Nodding, Claire looked up at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry I didn’t try and find you sooner.” Might as well come out with it, lay all her cards on the table.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” Jamie leaned forward. “I ken ye must have had a few hard decisions to make, but I dinna begrudge ye for no’ tellin’ me. I am a stranger after all.”

“Not quite a stranger,” she smirked. “But please, Jamie…” resting her hand on his arm, she felt the strength and power coursing through his body. “Please accept my apology.”

“Aye, I will — of course.” He smiled and laid his hand over hers. She found that when he was touching her, she no longer felt nervous so she moved her hand to hold his.

“Do ye mind if I ask who else could be the father of the wee bairn?”

“No, not at all,” she shook her head. “He’s my ex — Frank Randall. I found out he was cheating on me the day before I met you.”

“Does he know?”

“No. I don’t want him to,” Claire admitted. “Does that make me a horrible person?”

Jamie moved his hand up to cup her cheek, “Nah. It only makes ye a good mother from protectin’ the bairn from that man. He cheated on ye — broke yer trust as well as yer heart. That isna a man that deserves ye.”

“But does he deserve to know he might have a child?” Claire slid her hand over her belly and she saw Jamie’s eyes drift down to it.

“I dinna ken, Sassenach. I suppose if it were me,” he smirked, “I would want to know. But I am no this Frank Randall so I canna say what he would want.”

“He always wanted a child. We were together for years and I thought we would be married someday,” Claire’s voice broke and a tear slid down her cheek. “I thought a lot of things back then.”

“Claire,” Jamie held her hand firmly, resting their joined hands on her knee. “Ye are the mother of this bairn and therefore ye decide who gets to be in the child’s life. I willna lie to ye and say I dinna want that privilege if ye see fit to allow me.”

“Oh, Jamie,” Claire smiled. “Of course I want you to be apart of our lives. However messy or confusing it may be or even if you’re not the father after all… if you want to be in my child’s life then we will have you.”

Tears brimmed the surface of Jamie’s eyes and he let his head hang. Slowly, he released Claire’s hand and moved it to rest lightly over her bump. He had missed so much already; if the child was truly his then he didn’t want to miss another moment.

“I suppose we should exchange numbers,” he laughed, leaning back to reach into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Shoulda done this on the night I met ye, Sassenach.”

“I should have just told you my name,” she smiled, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know what I was trying to even do.”

“Well ye thought ye’d never see me again and now ye tell me ye’d just had yer heart broken,” Jamie said. “Ye were protecting yourself.”

“I was,” Claire agreed and then reached for her own phone and they swapped devices, each entering their numbers.

“Now ye know how to reach me,” he handed her back her phone. “If ye ever need anythin’ and I mean anythin’ at all, please dinna hesitate to call me day or night.”

“I wouldn’t want to be too much of a bother,” Claire said shyly.

He grabbed her hand, “Tis no a bother, Claire. I suppose I still havena wrapped my head around all of this, but dinna think that I’m no happy about it, aye?”

“I can see that,” Claire smiled. It was true, Jamie had been nothing but supportive of her since he’d found out about the baby and the confusing parentage. She tried to imagine Frank in his shoes, but could only see him starting a fight and becoming angry with her that she’d withheld the truth from him. Jamie was not Frank, that much was obvious.

Jamie rose from the table, “I wish I could stay longer wi’ ye, but I’m meeting my sister and godfather for dinner.”

“Will you tell them about the baby?” Claire stood and walked with him to the door.

“Maybe no just yet. And I’ll only tell them wi’ yer permission of course,” he said.

“You can tell them,” she nodded. “I’d like to meet them one day… properly,” she laughed, recalling the time she had only heard their concerned voices.

“I’d like that too, Sassenach.” Jamie leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Please call me if ye need me.”

“I will,” Claire smiled and then opened the door and watched him leave. She did need him and as she watched him walk away, she felt a tug on her heart. It was already complicated enough — adding in a relationship between her and Jamie was absolutely out of the question. They had enough to deal with at the moment and besides, she wasn’t sure if she could handle the heartbreak if Jamie decided this was all too much for him.

++++++

As Jamie ate dinner with his sister and Murtagh, the entire evening he kept thinking about telling them about the bairn. It would be happy news to be sure, but the circumstances were not what he had envisioned. He thought that when he would become a father, he would also have a wife. Deep down, Jamie knew that he would marry Claire if she agreed to it, but he didn’t want to rock the boat.

Of course, he knew what his sister’s reaction would be. She would hit him over the head and tell him he shouldn’t have spread his seed foolishly. Jamie knew he’d been a fool not to wear a condom that night, but he hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly either. Even now as he sat around the table with Jenny who was telling them about something her daughter Maggie had done, his thoughts drifted to Claire.

He wondered what she had done when she found out about the bairn. Had she cried of happiness or fear? Did she ever think of not keeping it? He also wondered just how much he should involve himself in her life. If she’d have him, he would be there for it all — every kick, every movement and he would be there after the bairn was born.

“Have ye somethin’ on yer mind mo bhràthair?”

Shaking his head to dispel the vision of Claire’s body under his, her belly pressing between them, he looked over to see both Jenny and Murtagh staring at him.

“Och, tis nothin’.”

“It is not nothing, Jamie. I’ve no seen ye so distracted in months,” she tsked and rose to grab the kettle, coming back and refilling all their cups.

“I ran into someone earlier today,” Jamie said with a small smile on his lips.

“A lass?” Murtagh elbowed his arm.

“Aye, a lass,” he rolled his eyes. “The same lass from the launch party a few months ago.”

“Ahhh, makes sense now.”

“What does?”

“Ye scribbled her name all over yer wee journals and things for weeks lad and dinna pretend ye didn’t try and search for her too,” Murtagh chuckled.

“Is this the same lass I saw ye take into mam’s library?”

Jamie nearly choked on his tea and it burned on the way down. “I wanted to show her our collection.”

“Hmph,” Jenny smirked. “I ken ye may have shown her some other things too.”

“How would you—“

“Ye think I dinna ken what goes on in this house?”

“I…” his cheeks turned bright red and he felt like a kid again being scolded for not doing his chores.

“Just tell me ye wore protection, Jamie and ye didna knock her up,” Jenny snorted into her tea and Jamie sat there in silence. Jenny’s mouth opened, her eyes boring into his, “James Fraser! Ye didn’t!”

“Oh lad,” Murtagh shook his head, softly laughing under his breath. “And this was the first ye’ve seen of her since?”

“Aye,” Jamie nodded, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself. “I didna ken her name and as ye kindly pointed out, I did try and look for her.”

“Ye are so irresponsible ye wee numptie,” Jenny looked at him disapprovingly. “Ye get a woman wi’ child and ye dinna even ken her name. I would ask what ye were thinkin’ but it’s clear ye were only lettin’ yer bollocks do the thinkin’. At least tell me yer goin’ to marry the lass now?”

“Marry her? I only just saw her today for the first time in nearly five months. I wasna goin’ to suddenly offer her marriage,” Jamie scoffed. “It’s a bit more complicated than that anyways.”

“Please,” Jenny rolled her eyes as she leaned forward. All Jamie wanted to do was run and hide, but he wouldn’t be able to get away from her this easy. “Enlighten yer family on why tis so complicated that ye canna marry the lass and save her baby from bein’ a bastard. Och, when Ian finds out about this he’ll bang ye over the heid.”

This was the part Jamie never intended on telling them — at least not for awhile. “Claire isna sure that I am the father.”

“Oh so she’s a whoor too,” Jenny let out a half-laugh, half-bark and Jamie rose to his feet.

“She is not a whore, Janet! I willna have ye speakin that way of the mother of my bairn!”

“The bairn might not even be yers, Jamie. I will call her a whoor because that tis what she is for layin’ wi’ multiple men and getting herself wi’ child.”

Jamie walked over to the wall, slamming his fist against the beam, trying to let his anger die down. “I’m just as much to blame, if no more so than she is. Claire has had to deal wi’ this all on her own.” It was then that Jamie noticed Murtagh had slipped out and it was just him and Jenny facing off.

“She shoulda told ye about the bairn when she first found out, how could she keep such a thing from ye?”

Jamie took a deep breath and sat back down, eyeing his sister. “We didna exchange numbers, Jenny. I ken it was a foolish thing of me to do. I’ve already beat myself up about it enough, I dinna need ye yellin’ at me.” He hung his head low, running his fingers back through his hair. “I didna force myself upon her, if ye were wonderin’ that too.”

“Och, Jamie,” Jenny laid a hand on his arm. “I never thought ye would. This whole thing is a mess, but I have faith in ye that ye’ll make it right by marryin’ the lass.”

“Jenny I can’t just—“

“Ye will lad. Mother and father would want to see the bairn raised in a proper family, ye ken that.”

“Aye, I do, but it’s complicated. Claire and I slept together one night, we were both drunk and hurting for different reasons. There may not be love between us and I willna force her to marry me if she doesna want to.”

“Then ye must learn the ways of her heart,” Jenny said and then rose from the table, leaving him sitting there with even more questions than he had before.

Did he love her?

++++++ It had been a week since Claire had bumped into Jamie and since then they hadn’t stopped messaging each other. She informed him every time she felt the baby kick and had even sent him a video one night where you could clearly see the feet of the baby pressing against her stomach.

Claire didn’t know the sex of the baby. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know until it was born. She had also always gone to her ultrasound appointments alone and Jamie had promised to go with her to the next one — perhaps they could find out together.

It was comforting to know that Jamie was there for her if she needed him.

Geillis was working a night shift which meant that Claire was at home alone. She’d just settled herself on the couch with a giant bowl of popcorn and planned to watch Pride & Prejudice when she felt a sharp pain in her stomach.

“Oh, God,” she winced, sliding her hand over her belly. Sometimes when the baby kicked her in the wrong spot, it hurt like this and normally happened only once. Claire took a deep breath and rubbed her hand over the bump, “It’s alright little melon.”

A moment later another sharp pain went through her, but this time all over her body and she gasped in pain. The bowl of popcorn fell to the floor as she doubled over, her face twisting as another pang went through her.

Her phone was on the coffee table and she managed to slide to her knees and grabbed it. Geillis wouldn’t be able to come to her, so she called the only other person she could think of.

“Sassenach, how are ye?”

“Jamie, I need help,” she said and then grunted as another pang happened.

“What’s wrong?” Claire could hear that he was moving and then she heard the jangle of car keys.

“I’m not sure, but my stomach hurts. I need you to take me to the hospital.”

“I’m on my way, do ye want me to stay on the phone until I get there?” The sound of his car turning on came through the phone and Claire tried to take another deep breath.

“Yes… please.” Closing her eyes, Claire laid her head back on the seat of the couch and took three deep breaths as she listened to Jamie’s voice. He was telling her about his day, trying to distract her from thinking of the pain and for the most part it was working.

Thankfully he arrived shortly after and was there at her side, sliding his arms under her legs as he carried her out of her house and down to his car.

“It’ll be alright,” he said in assurance and buckled her in.

On the drive to the hospital, Jamie’s hand never left hers and she squeezed it every time another sharp pang hit. She’d never been so grateful to have him here.

Within an hour, Claire was sitting in a hospital bed listening to the doctor tell her that there was nothing wrong and most likely the baby just got itself into an odd position. She sighed and laid her head back against the pillow, letting the stress and worry seep out of her body. “Silly little bean,” she whispered.

Jamie laughed from beside her and she opened her eyes to see him looking down at her. “Sorry, I didna mean to laugh.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled and reached for his hand and pulled it to rest over her stomach.

“Sassenach,” Jamie’s voice trembled and he bent to his knees. “I dinna know what I’d do if somethin’ happened to ye and the bairn. I couldn’t bear it.”

“Well we’re both alright, Jamie. Don’t let your mind go there,” Claire smiled warmly.

She saw something shift in him then and his hand moved to cover her entire belly as if he could protect what it was holding inside with just his touch.

“Claire, I want to promise ye somethin’. I want to promise to ye that I will be here for ye and this bairn. I vow to protect ye from any harm and God willing I will protect this bairn too.” He moved his other hand to cup her cheek, “It doesna matter who the father is, Sassenach. If ye say ye need me, I’m yours. And if the wee one decides he or she doesna want me in their life then I’ll step back. I dinna want to ever be a burden to ye.”

Claire was silent, tears filling her eyes as she listened to him make her these promises. Jamie then reached for her hand and laid it on top of his over her stomach. “I make this oath to ye and the bairn, Claire. And it is my duty to uphold it as long as I should live. My word is my promise and I swear to never break it.”

“I know you won’t,” she finally spoke and then pulled his head into the crook of her neck and embraced him. However he felt towards her, Claire knew that he would love this child with his whole heart. She also knew that if she allowed herself… she could grow to love him too. In fact, she knew she had already begun to love Jamie when she first met him — only after the baby did she close off her heart so that she wouldn’t be hurt again.

Jamie Fraser was in her life now, whether she loved him or not… she knew he would never leave them.

Chapter 10: Revelations 

[hyenasnake]

Battle Scars

Happy Father’s Day! TW: Past Abuse, Depression, Self Harm Mention, and Mental Illness.

They say you can take the warrior from the war, but you can never take the war from the warrior.

While Scrooge McDuck was no warrior, he had seen his share of battles in his time on earth. His senses had been heightened from them, which is how he heard the door to the bathroom shut loud enough in the dead of night to wake him and possibly Beakley whilst the other occupants of the mansion slept through it. Normally, he wouldn’t have paid it any mind, as the residents of McDuck Manor tended to wake up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom or get a drink of water. But this time, a gut feeling caused him to rise out of bed and walk to the source of the noise.

He knew as soon as he saw the door to Webby’s room slightly ajar. Whilst Lena had been given her own room with everything she could ever ask for inside, she was nervous about sleeping on her own and preferred instead a sleeping bag on the floor of Webby’s loft. The younger duckling protested greatly about having her friend sleep on the cold floor, but Lena never let up. So often Webbigail would be found curled up next to Lena keeping her warm.  He looked in the loft where the girls slept and found Webby asleep next to the old sleeping bag Lena insisted on sleeping in, the latter nowhere to be found.  A light from down the hall caught Scrooge's eye. As he followed it, he sighed in exasperation  upon realizing it led to the bathroom.  “Curse me kilts! Not even two days back from the hospital and she's already tryin' ta wind up back there.” He grumbled under his breath, then mentally chastising himself for getting angry at his newest ward over something she could barely control. He heard soft sobs, hisses, grunts and rummaging as he prepared to knock on the door in case this was just an ordinary midnight restroom break. He gently knocked on the mahogany door, not waiting for an answer before pushing it open.

As expected, Lena was slumped on the floor in her nightshirt looking like a deer in headlights. She had been caught red handed rummaging through the drawers. Her eyes were filled with tears and her forearms still wrapped in bandages. Scrooge sighed and offered her his hand.  “Yer not goin’ ta find anythin’ in here to hurt yourself again, lass. C’mon.” Lena took his hand as he helped her off the bathroom floor. She looked down in shame, her feathery hair covering her downcast, tear filled eyes. The pathetic sight of her tugged at the old man’s heartstrings. Scrooge led the teenager downstairs to the kitchen.

This called for an unused teabag was Scrooge’s thought has he handed Lena a mug of tea. Lena took the mug in shaky hands. The old man sat beside the teenager with his own mug. He gave a sigh and put a hand on her shoulder. “Lena, ah know yer strugglin’. Ah know ye feel like yer holdin’ all the sorrows of the world on yer shoulders. Ah wish ah could take all that sufferin’ away from ye, if only teh see ye smile without a care in the universe. Ah know everyone else in this house wishes the same for ye. But part of the healin’ has teh come from ye.”  “No you don’t. You don’t know anything about me.” She grumbled.  “Ah know that ye act tough and cool in ordah teh get by, ye act like ye could care less about what the world wants from ye. But inside, Lena, ah know yer tired. Yer tired of all the people, all the sadness, all the fear. Yer scared of messin’ up, bein’ a failure, disappointin’ the people in yer life. Ah know ye wish ye could cry yerself teh sleep every night and not bein’ able teh because yer family would hear ye.” Something all too familiar to Scrooge passed behind Lena’s dark eyes. “I don’t have a family.” Lena said in a hushed voice. “You said you’d let me be apart of your family if I helped you get your family back. I didn’t do squat to help. They came to you on their own. None of you ever needed me. The only one who needed me was Magica and once she’d used me she got rid of me.” Scrooge thought for a moment. Lena had been turned back to shadow as soon as Magica was free, not having the chance to help bring the family together again. He quickly snapped out of his thoughts when Lena began to speek again.  “I’m just a failure. A burden. A bad influence. A lowlife. A traitor. I’m just some dumb kid. I should have stayed in the shadow realm forever. I deserve it.” Her hands trembled.  “Yer only dumb fer thinkin’ all that baloney about yerself.” He lifted her chin to look up at him. “Lena, Magica has always been a basket case who’s done more harm than good. But she did one good thing, and yeh know what? That was ye. Yer the only good thing teh come from that mephistophelian medusa. Ye didn’t ask teh be caught up in all this crazy mess, teh live such a life as a witch’s slave with no love. Ah know ye cannae get used teh all of this so fast. Believe it or not, but we have a lot in common.” Lena’s eyes were blinking back tears. “Really?” “Ah was just like yeh as a lad. Sad, quiet, broodin’, wishin’ ah could go teh sleep and never wake up. Teh tell ye the truth, ah still feel like that sometimes. Ah still have the same battle scars that ye do. It doesn’t go away, but it gets better. Ah promise yeh on my life. But it isn’t goin’ to get better if ye keep wishin’ ye were dead. Ye hafta make it better yerself, carve your own path. Ye hafta write yer own story in the book o’ life.” He cupped her cheek, setting his mug of tea on the counter. “As fer ye not bein’ a part o’ the family, well ah have a few documents that could change that with yer signature.” The teenager’s eyes widened.  “You mean-?” “Welcome teh the McDuck family, Lena.” The old man gave her a warm smile. Lena put her mug down, tears rolling down her face. Scrooge engulfed her in a hug which she readily accepted. He held her as she cried as if she were the infant she never had the luxury of being. She sobbed her thanks and apologies as he rubbed her back.

It was over an hour later when Scrooge McDuck was finally tired enough to go back to bed. He had sent Lena up to bed when she got tired and was slightly shocked to find the teenager asleep in his own bed. He recalled her words from earlier; “every time I close my eyes I see her. It won’t stop. She won’t stop hurting me.” She’d confided in him. But now she seemed to be the opposite of restless. Her breathing wasn’t labored and she slept peacefully like a baby, the first time she slept this well in her life. Scrooge tucked her in and fell asleep next to her, giving her most of the room to sleep. She snored softly, lulling him to sleep.

After that night, Lena began to sleep in her own room. She began to make a point of going out more to socialize, remembering to take her medicine, and asking others for help. It was still a bumpy ride full of relapses, nightmares, panic attacks, fights, hospital trips, therapy, and days where she felt so crippled she stayed in her bed all day. But at least now the young girl could feel a little better with her newfound family by her side.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Collision Course - Part Six

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Claire had declared that at least two bones in one of his fingers had been broken; “hopefully they’ll heal straight,” she’d told him scowling and tugging on his fingers to realign the bones in question, then she’d cleaned tree bark and other plant matter from the open wounds on his hand with only a few snorts of satisfaction each time he stifled a cry of pain. Finally she had poured some whiskey over his hand, causing him to scream outright, before splinting and wrapping the bandages around it. Jamie’s cries had roused Frank who called for Claire from the cave. She hadn’t emerged since and appeared to be sleeping inside the cave to be nearer Frank who had begun to show signs of the mild fever she’d anticipated.

“Takin’ yer frustrations out on a wood sprite were ye?” Murtagh asked taking hold of Jamie’s injured hand causing him to wince.

“Better on a tree than on Frank’s face,” Jamie answered under his breath, pulling his hand back and inspecting Claire’s handiwork.

“Ye dinna need to stay,” Murtagh told him sympathetically. “If it’s too much for ye…”

“No. I… There isna so much time left, aye?”

“So ye’ll cause yerself more anguish by watchin’ her wi’ the likes of him?” Murtagh sidled closer to Jamie. “I ken what it’s like to see a woman ye love wi’ another man. Even is he a good man, it isna easy and that bugger in there… well, he’s no bad––no like that black-souled bastard at Fort William––but he’s no the best man for her and if she canna see it––”

“Murtagh,” Jamie scolded and shrugged away from his godfather. “It isna a matter of is the the best or no; he’s her husband and that’s that.” He used his uninjured hand to toss a few more small sticks onto the fire. “And it’s no for the likes of you to decide what’s best for her in any case.” He took a seat again, this time on the opposite side of the fire from Murtagh. From his new perch he could see the cave’s mouth and Claire’s shadow on the wall, thrown there by the single candle she kept lit in order to watch Frank.

Murtagh rose and shuffled over, refusing to let Jamie shut him out as well.

“Lad… the vows she swore to that man in there are the same she swore to you, and I ken she did cause I was there. And I ken the way she looks at ye as well as the way she’s been lookin’ at him. But ye’re right; it’s her choice to make.”

“And I’ll no make it harder for her by tryin’ to pull her in more directions than the one she ought to go towards,” Jamie resolved.

“Then ye’d best go, lad,” Murtagh said, startling Jamie. “You just bein’ here is playin’ with the lass’ loyalties and if ye’re resolved no to let her choose ye, then it’ll be easier on her if ye’re no around.”

Murtagh watched Jamie absorb the truth of what he’d said and saw the clouds descend as Jamie turned back to gaze into the fire. The flames cast warring shadows over Jamie’s face before he finally nodded his concession.

“Ye’ll take her and Frank back to Craigh na Dun alone; I’ll stay here and wait for ye. Then we can… we can head back to Leoch or perhaps away to France,” Jamie resolved. “But I’ll no leave the three of ye here––no on my own land.”

“That’ll do,” Murtagh agreed. “Perhaps ye’ll take a word of advice and go visit yer sister while ye’re here. Ye owe it to her to see she’s taken care of and ye ought to pay a visit to yer mam and da as well.”

Jamie closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, squeezing the fingers of his injured hand and holding on to the steadying throb of the pain. “I’ll think on it. But for now, we’d best take turns keeping watch.”

Murtagh informed Claire of the new plan for returning to Craigh na Dun early the next morning while Jamie was off checking the few snares he’d managed to set and gathering kindling.

“It’ll be dangerous for the lad to heid back that way,” Murtagh reminded Claire. “He’s no so inconspicuous and there’s the price on his heid should he be caught. I can get ye to the hill safe and I dinna stick out sae much––nor does Randall ken my name or my face.”

“Right,” Claire said with a disappointed nod. “No, we can’t have Jamie risking himself any more than he already has.”

Frank emitted an indiscriminate sound that earned him a glare from Murtagh and made Claire flush with embarrassment and frustration.

“I’ll be ready to leave first thing tomorrow,” Frank declared forcing himself upright. “Unless you prefer to travel by night so as to avoid detection.”

Murtagh scoffed. “It isna wise to travel by night, detection or no.” He cast an appraising glance over Frank’s attire, his bushy eyebrows knitting themselves together into one long, thick line. “It isna so good as a hunting tartan,” he observed while adjusting the plaid that he had wrapped around his shoulders for a bit of extra warmth, “but there’s filth enough hereabouts to get ye closer to where ye’ll blend with the moors.” It was Frank’s turn to flush with embarrassment while Claire pressed her lips together to conceal a smile of amusement. “Dinna need to worry so much about the Red Coats though; they’re easy enough to spot at a distance and we can alter our path accordingly. Shouldna take more than a few days to reach the hill and send ye on yer way agin.”

“That’s a relief. I don’t suppose there’s a place nearby where I might bathe properly,” Frank inquired of Claire.

“There’s the burn where Jamie’s been fetching water but you can’t go in with your wounds like that or you’ll risk further infection,” Claire warned. “I’ll see about fetching enough for you to wash with.”

“I’ll take ye there myself,” Murtagh offered. “Ye’ve no had a chance to wash properly either, Claire, and I think a splash of water could do ye some good––ye look worn to the bone.” He threw an accusatory look at Frank as he guided Claire to the mouth of the cave.

“I can’t leave Frank,” Claire objected quietly as she squinted up at the midday sun.

“He’ll no wander off,” Murtagh reassured her. “And if he tried Jamie will see he gets back to resting safely.”

The thought of Frank encountering Jamie without herself present to keep them civil was not an appealing one but the allure of cool, fresh water and a break from Frank was. She hadn’t had much sleep though his fever hadn’t been a serious one. There was more redness around his wounds and she would be more comfortable with some reliable antibiotics at hand but since they would be leaving the next morning, she was fairly certain further action could wait until they were safely back in the twentieth century where a proper physician could see to things at a sterile hospital.

Murtagh gave Jamie a brief nod before leading Claire away. Jamie quickly looked down at the blade he was trying awkwardly to sharpen with his bandaged hand rather than meet Claire’s eye. She sighed and settled to following Murtagh.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Jamie glanced over his shoulder back at the cave. He shouldn’t do it––he should just let the man be––but they would be leaving in the morning and there was little chance Claire would leave Frank alone long enough for Jamie to have another opportunity. He rose to his feet and stared down the blade of his dirk before tossing aside the whetstone and sheathing the long, heavy knife.

“I should have known you’d find some way to arrange for her to be away like this,” Frank remarked as Jamie’s broad form darkened the entrance of the cave. He had to hunch considerably to fit well enough to creep in and settle down opposite Frank. “I’ve seen the way you look at her,” Frank added. Jamie couldn’t decide whether Frank’s trembling was a result of nerves or anger. “She’s explained everything about the two of you and what’s gone on… I can look past it all on her part––she did what was necessary and she’s still alive so that’s something. But you… I should be able to look past what you’ve done since you were ignorant… but all I see when I look at you is the man who’s been fucking my wife and clearly doesn’t want to stop.”

“And all I see when I look at you is the man who would have killed Claire as soon as look at her back at Fort William,” Jamie replied calmly, quietly thrilling at the shock and fear that crossed Frank’s face––Black Jack Randall’s face––at the reference to the successful rescue of a few days earlier. “But I ken ye’re no that man and perhaps ye’ll do me the same courtesy. Besides… I didna come to fight ye––or kill ye, if that’s what ye thought…” Yes, fear had definitely been one of the things causing Frank to tremble, Jamie decided. “I came to tell ye…” He shook his head. “I dinna ken what, to be honest. Just… Take care of her, please… when ye get back to yer time. She’s… she’s a remarkable woman and she deserves to be treated well.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Frank scoffed but without the malice of a few moments earlier. “I married her didn’t I?”

“Aye, ye did. And she chose ye, right enough, so I suppose that should mean something. I just hope ye dinna forget it… dinna take her for granted.”

“Thanks for the marital advice,” Frank quipped. He didn’t appreciate being lectured about his wife by someone who’d known her for little more than a month and clearly lamented the loss of his bedmate.

Jamie’s face darkened briefly and Frank flinched slightly when Jamie moved to rise and leave.

“I love her,” he told Frank quietly. “I dinna doubt ye do too, in yer own way. I want her safe and happy. And if ye dinna make her so… well… two hundred years is a long time to wait, but I’ll watch for her and for you to make sure ye are.”

As Jamie ducked to leave the cave, the light caught him in such a way that it seemed to nearly pass through him like a ghost and Frank’s blood went cold.

[takemeawaytocamelot]

JAMMF the Knight - If Your Heels Are Nimble and Light, You Can Get There by Candlelight

Alright you lovely people. This is the third chapter of the JAMMF the Knight story which is a collaborative work with the ever amazing @thescarlettpeacock. This lovely chapter is like 99% her work, so go ahead and give her the kudos for it. I mainly edited and poked her until she wrote it. But it’s a wonderful chapter and I’m only posting it here so it stays with the other chapters. It was meant to go out earlier today and I forgot, so I’m sorry. Here it is, I hope you enjoy it!

Part One 

Part Two

Previously

“Claire - lass…” He paused, gasping for a breath in a room suddenly deprived of oxygen.

“Yer a star.”

Claire moved quite suddenly away from Jamie, her body reacting in flight at his revelation.

“No, I’m not.” Her voice was flat against the accusation, “You’re mistaken. I’m just plain old Claire Beauchamp.”

“I saw ye! I saw… Oh God you’re a star! That’s why you’re here!” Jamie stared at Claire, dumbfounded by his realisation, eyes wide and jaw slack.

“No! No you don’t know what you saw!” Claire’s throat caught, her voice levels rising to an almost shout.

“I saw you glowing in the shadow and-” He couldn’t stop, his mind and mouth working without cohesion as he babbled out his reaction.

Claire shook her head with rigour, her chest rising and falling, heaving out breaths as she tried to explain the falsity of his claim. “A trick of the light! It wasn’t what you thought it was -”

“It makes sense now! Why he’s kept ye here! And why-”

“Stop! Stop talking! I’m not a star!”

Jamie went quiet for a moment as the gravity of his next sentence settled in. “The beast, he came for you didn’t he? He came to cut –“

“Shut up!” Claire darted to the far wall, covering her ears and squeezing her eyes shut, trying desperately to drown out Jamie as he spelled out her worst fear.

“God he would’ve… Your entire life just…” The severity of the situation was setting into his mind, a thousand thoughts whirring together and making no sense. A woman - who so happened to be a star - taken by the beast in the same way his sister had been.

“He stole me away to kill me! Yes! He came to cut out my heart like all of my sisters that fell before me! What do you think they do to fallen stars, Jamie?!” Violent tears fell down Claire’s face in absolute terror as she shouted at Jamie, her bodying shaking with vigour. “I will be dead before the week is through! There’s nothing you or I can do about it!” Her fury burned with a dangerous intensity.

“I’ll find a way out, Claire! I promised you I wouldn’t let any harm come to you, I’m no’ about to let a mad man cut your heart out!”

“You closed the door, Jamie!”

“Oh will you let that go! I didn’t do it on purpose and I already apologised for that earlier!”

“Do you think that makes it all better!? Face it! It’s your fault we can’t leave and it’s your fault I’m going to die! Just get out, Jamie!” The words flew from her mouth, and she knew instantly that they had hit their mark.

Her words cut through Jamie like a blow from a sword, heavy and violent. He stood astonished, his chest heaving, shaking against the cold. The weight of truth that hung over them both, a spectre lingering in the darkness of the night. He was to blame, he had closed the door. And if Claire died, her blood would be left on his hands.

Jamie took one last look at her, spun on his heels and left the room, slamming the door behind him with the echo ricocheting down the tower.   

----------

Some time had passed since they had last spoken, both furious with the other, with minds whirring with new and dangerous information. The moon had reached its peak in the sky, deep into the night it began lowering, revealing a new morning. The stars flickered behind them, the narrow window providing only a small view of their vast expanse. During his time away from her, Jamie had realised that Claire knew those stars, that they must have been the smallest comfort for her during her time in this wretched tower. Her time on the earth, in fact. Had she been lonely, he wondered. Did she cry for her lost family? The view of the world below and its people, the beautiful and the damned lot of them, did she long for it? He hadn’t thought about that when he’d announced her status and argued with her. Guilt was setting into him, his gut aching. Jamie knew he should go back to her - just to make sure she hadn’t done anything stupid in her blatant fury toward him and the situation at hand.

Once he had finally decided to force himself upstairs, he found her staring into the fireplace, framed by a beautiful white halo that illuminating her from head to toe. Claire didn’t move her body as he approached, nor made real any acknowledgement of his presence. Jamie stood by the door, watching in and waiting to be invited back into her chamber. His hopes were interrupted when Claire began speaking again, voice wistful.

“If I could have one wish, just a small insignificant wish -” She paused only for a moment, but long enough for Jamie to assume the wish would be to have never had him appear at the door. “I would ask that a Babylon candle could fall from the heavens.”

“A what?” He stepped into the room, silently relieved that while they had fought, there was a chance she might let him stay in her company for a while longer and warm himself by the fire beside her.

Claire did not look up as she spoke, maintaining her gaze toward the fireplace. “A Babylon candle. They are incredibly rare now, there used to be hundreds of them. A dull emerald green with a solid black wick running right through the middle. All you have to do is think of exactly where you wanted to be, light the candle and off you go. You had freedom at your fingertips. I remember watching people travel across the lands, having adventures, visiting their families…” Her voice fell soft with the weight of nostalgia.

Jamie took a seat beside her, his legs straddling the bench. He watched on as her body hung stiff under the weight of a heavy heart, the logs of the fire crackling and spitting loudly as he waited for her to continue with her tale.

“Someone stole them all, started using them for dark magic. That’s how they started finding us so quickly - when my sisters fell. They would think of the location of the star and try to find them before someone else did. It was like a cruel sport sometimes… The hunt for a star heart.” Claire sniffed back tears, throat tightening with each word. She turned herself to him, her eyes filled with tears, her lip wobbling.  “I didn’t mean to fall you know? Curiosity caught me. I just wanted to watch you all, to see the wonderful things I had watched you all do. Now I’m beginning to wonder if I ignored what humanity is really like.” She spoke to him as though her were her priest at the confessional, hoping for an absolution from such a human trait as curiosity and desire.

“We’re a despicable lot at the best of times.” He muttered, feeling hopeless for Claire and for himself.

“I’m not ready, Jamie.” She choked out, “I don’t want to die.” With the last word, Claire began to heart-wrenchingly sob, ferocious tears falling down her face and dripping off her quivering chin. Misery and hopelessness came in waves, moments of sobbing broken apart by pauses for a breath. Jamie wondered how long it had been since she had cried - had she at all? Twice in the hours he had been in her company she had broken into sobs, and twice he felt the weight of the world fall onto his shoulders, hoping with all of his might that he could ease her anguish.

When her cries had calmed, she had fallen eerily silent. She was a picture of devastation. Instinct had Jamie reaching into his pocket, searching for a handkerchief to wipe the tears from her bleary eyes. Cursing his habit of stuffing everything into whatever pocket was nearby, he began to fumble through various trinkets and knick knacks, dropping them onto his lap; a silver coin for emergencies, a nail from a horseshoe, the green candle Quentin had given him, a small fishing line and –

“What - Jamie, what is that?” Claire’s bruised voice cut through a short silence.

“What?” he asked, looking down at the objects in his lap. She leant over to him and plucked the candle from the pile of objects, staring at it intently. “Your uncle gave it to me. I dinna ken what it is.”

Claire’s expression changed quite rapidly in the following moments. She paled, her eyebrows arched with disbelief, then her skin began to flush. “It’s a -” Claire paused for a moment before she commenced yelling rather loudly at her fellow prisoner. “You’ve had a Babylon candle this entire time and you just neglected to mention the fact?!” She moved forward with swift agility, hitting Jamie rather hard in the arm repeatedly.  “You’ve had me thinking we were going to die in here the whole time! And you’ve had that in your bloody pocket!”

What Jamie had in fact not realised was that during his meeting with Quentin Lambert, he had been gifted a Babylon candle. A candle that provided the perfect method for their escape from the tower. Quentin had entirely neglected to explain the use of the candle to Jamie, knowing that if he found Claire, she would explain its properties and he and his ward would be reunited sooner rather than later.

“Ouch! Claire! For God's sake stop hitting me will ye! I thought it was just a candle!””

“‘I thought it was just a candle!’” She mimicked sarcastically, “We could have been gone from this bloody place the moment after the door closed!”

“I didna ken what it was! But we can go now. I can take you back to your uncle.”

Her glare turned from rage and frustration into wariness and caution. “How do I know you'll take me back to him? What if you've got your own plans for me now that you know what I am.”

Jamie threw his hands up in frustration, “We've been o’er this, damn it! If ye dinna trust me, I canna help ye!”

“You'd just leave me here?” Claire asked, hurt by the idea that Jamie would simply leave her behind.

“Perhaps.” He shrugged, his demeanour appearing indifferent. “If ye willna come, I canna force you.”

“I…” she looked longingly at the candle. If she could do what she wanted, would she return to the sky? Was that even possible? “I just want to go home.”

“Then will ye trust me far enough to do that?”

She hesitated, chewing on her lip. After her pause, she finally spoke with certainty.

“Yes, I will.”

-----------

They had decided to wait until morning before making a move, knowing it would be easier for them to find their way to their destination by the light of day than lit by moonlight. They would light the candle, a location fixed in their minds and with luck, be transported there. Jamie would take Claire directly to her Uncle, he would collect his payment and he would leave, never to see or hear from her again. Hasten to admit, the latter had stuck in Jamie’s throat as they had agreed on a plan.

“We have to get this right, Jamie.”

“I know - I’m just trying to think of where exactly we should go…”

“Why can’t I decide?!” She challenged indignantly.

“Bloody woman will ye no’ -” Jamie was interrupted by the sound of the door opening at the bottom of the stairs. The distinct sound of footsteps echoed off the walls, heavy and foreboding.

Claire’s body began to shake as Jamie gathered her to his side, his blood running cold through his veins in growing unease.

“Claire, think of home.” He whispered.

The footsteps grew louder.

“Jamie -”

And heavier.

“Claire -”

Coming closer.

Jamie grabbed her hand, linking their icy fingers tightly together, entirely awash with panic.

The door handle of the chamber turned down and the door swung open, revealing a shadow in its frame.

“Think of home!” He demanded, thrusting his hand into the blazing fireplace. Jamie screamed from the pain, white hot and searing before a flash erupted before them.

They vanished.

[takemeawaytocamelot]

Always Knock First

This is a delightful follow-up that you all begged for. It comes after THIS. It’s a slight variation on *that* scene in The Reckoning. Sorry it took so long to get out to you guys. Hope you enjoy it!

Jamie paused, just outside the door. Laogahire’s words echoed in his mind, the feel of her skin beneath his fingers still burned. No. He would not think of her again. He would repair his relationship with Claire, no matter the cost. After a deep breath, he walked into their room.

She sat in front of a small mirror, brushing her hair. The curls were tight today, had she bathed then? Probably, by the smell in the air.

Still unsure of his next move, he removed his coat and went to stand at the hearth. He stared into the flames for a minute before speaking. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on the curls in her fingers.

“Colum and Dougal have mended fences.”

Not a sound, not even acknowledging he’d spoken. Untying his stock, he sorted his words in his mind before speaking them.

“Our lives in the Highlands are steeped in tradition, custom, and ritual.”

“So I’ve seen,” she said flatly, looking at an empty spot on the wall behind her mirror.

“And Colum chose to risk looking weak, publicly changing his position, because peace was more important than custom. I saw a rigid man bend. Made me mindful.”

“About what?”

That was good, she was engaging with him. That was something, at least.

“Wives obey their husbands.”

She tossed her hairbrush onto the table, irritated. It was rather a sore subject, he supposed.

“Husbands discipline them when they don’t. Now, that’s how it was with my father and his father and on and on and on, back. But… Maybe for you and me it has to go a different way.”

Approaching the bench she sat on, he pulled his dirk out. She turned to look at him then, no doubt wondering what new barbaric act he intended upon her. But that wasn’t his plan, not now. Instead, he held the blade flat in his hands and knelt before her.

“I swear on the cross of my Lord Jesus,” he hesitated, daring to look up at her, hoping she would be looking back. “And by the holy iron which I hold, that I give ye my fealty and pledge you my loyalty.” Setting the tip of the dirk against his chest, he held the hilt out to her, offering her the chance to kill him if she wished it. “If ever my hand is raised in rebellion against you again, then I ask that this holy iron my pierce my heart.”

He kissed the flat of the blade, as was the binding part of the custom, and waited for her to take it. Only, she didn’t.

“Is it not enough, Claire? Do you not want me anymore?” Normally her face was a glass mask, one he could see perfectly through and read as easily as he read his own name. But now… He wasn’t sure what he saw in her eyes. “Do ye wish to live separately?” 

Sheathing the blade, he prepared to stand and leave her be. As he’d said on their wedding night, he would not force himself on her.

“I feel that’s what I should want.”

Just before he got up, however, she put her hand on his chest.

“But I don’t.”

Looking down, he saw the little iron ring on her hand, which made him smile.

“The key to Lallybroch,” he said.

She frowned at him, her face growing softer by the moment.

“What?”

“Yer ring.” He kissed it softly. “I had the blacksmith fashion yer ring from my key.”

Her eyes moved down with a different look in them, like she was seeing it for the first time.

“Why didn’t you tell me that, before? When you gave it to me?”

Because I love you more than my own life.

“I wanted to wait until I took ye back to Lallybroch, so ye’d know the place was as much yours as mine. Now… I dinna ken when, if ever, we’ll get back there.”

Her brows knit and her eyes grew sad.

“Jamie…”

“That…” he interrupted. “That thought doesna pain me as much as it once might have.” Gently he let his fingers touch her cheek, caressing it as softly as he knew how. “You are my home now.”

Her hand was soft and cool against his skin as her fingers tangled in his hair. When she kissed him, it felt like the first breath he’d taken in days. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to tell her just yet that he loved her, but he could get close. His lips moved to her neck, raising gooseflesh on her skin.

“I want ye, Claire. I want ye so much I can scarcely breathe.” Taking her hair into his fist, he pulled her head back until she was glaring down at him. “Will ye have me?”

When he let go, she kissed him again. He began to stir, longing for her and needing her. Unlike their wedding, this was a real choice. If she said no, he would leave her now. She was safe from Randall and she had a place here at Leoch. He’d put himself out there, telling her that he wanted her. Now it was her choice.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes I’ll have you.”

With her spoken permission, he let go of his control. He hardly knew who’s clothes went where. Somewhere in the distance he heard his sword belt clatter to the floor. Her shift, which had already been slipping off her shoulder, puddled around her waist. One of his hands moved up her body to hold her breast. They were both breathing heavily, drawing closer to each other. Only pausing long enough to remove his shirt, he pulled her off the little bench and laid back. With the shift still about her hips, she pushed his kilt out of the way and guided him home.

He moaned when she began moving against him. She rode him hard and he let her, not caring about anything else.

It wasn’t until he felt the sharp point of a blade against his neck that he forced his eyes open.

“Listen to me!” she said.

Like he could do anything else?

“If you ever raise a hand to me again, James Fraser, I will cut your heart out and have it for breakfast. Do you understand me?”

He tried to nod his agreement, the art of speech having fled him for the moment.

“Do you!”

“Aye! you have my word!”

She let the dirk clatter to the floor again, losing herself in her movements. Seeing his opportunity, he took advantage. Gathering her to himself, he sat up and put her on her back. It took some careful maneuvering, but he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. Claire let out a grunt, but her legs wrapped around him.

“You’re mine, mo nighean donn. Mine!” he said, emphasizing his declaration with strong thrusts. “Now and forever!”

Claire clawed at him, her fingernails digging into his flesh. Her eyes shut tightly, her mouth came slightly open, and her back arched. Just one moment more and…

I screamed. I thought I would burst into thousands of fragments and turn to flame. But he wasn’t through with me yet. He held still for a moment, regaining control over himself, and opened his eyes.

“Have ye had enough yet, Sassenach?”

I met his gaze with the same intensity in his own.

“Not yet.”

Slowly, he lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me quite thoroughly. Just as he’d done with me, I took full advantage of his momentary distraction.

Leveraging myself as best I could, I put him onto his back and smiled down at him.

“Do you want me to stop?” I whispered.

“Not at the moment,” he smiled back.

“And it still doesn’t bother you? That I wasn’t a virgin when we married?”

He shook his head slowly, hands running over my hips.

“No, it doesna. I’m no’ a virgin either. And I dinna think I would have liked a timid wife.”

“And timid,” I said, setting my teeth against his neck. “I am not.”

I bit down, though not too hard. He gasped and his arms locked around me.

“Certainly no’ a word I’d use to describe ye, Sassenach.”

“That’s not likely to change.”

“Good.”

Both of his large hands slid up my torso and cupped my breasts. Still grinning like the cat that ate the canary, he teased them until my nipples stood erect. I kissed him softly on his lips before turning around. His hands now rested on my hips, his cock still throbbing inside me.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“You know… When I first arrived in Leoch, the night I wept in your arms… I thought to myself that if I were a horse, I’d let you ride me anywhere.”

“Such thoughts from a noble Englishwoman!” he said, squeezing his hands.

“But it looks like I’m doing the riding for now.”

“Ye’ve got the fattest arse I’ve ever seen, Sassenach,” he said, squeezing my rump.

Settling into my position, I looked up and felt my eyes go wide. The door to our chamber stood cracked open. My eyes wandered up to see a face so full of hate I almost gasped. Laogahire was staring at me - us - with enough rage to burn down the castle.

Ignoring my initial shock, I sat up straight and shifted my hips from side to side. Then I did the one thing I knew she’d hate more than anything else.

I smiled.

Then I closed my eyes and decided to enjoy myself and forget her existence. I heard him crying out in Gaelic behind me and I hoped they were good things he said. With both of his hands still gripping my backside, I ground against him as roughly as I could. My hands dug into his thighs and we both cried out when his conclusion came.

For a few moments, I sat there, panting. When I looked up, the door was still cracked open, but Laogahire had gone.

“Claire,” he said softly.

Pulling myself from him, I crumpled down beside him and smiled.

“Yes, Jamie?”

“I am your master.”

I began feeling my earlier irritation boil up again.

“And you are mine,” he finished. “Seems I canna possess your soul wi’out losing my own.”

That made me nod my head in agreement. This was the sort of compromise I was comfortable with.

“Yes, master,” I said quietly, making him chuckle.

“Claire, I must tell ye something.”

I snuggled closer, inhaling the scent of him.

“Perhaps it can wait until later.”

“No,” he said, serious. “It willna wait.”

“Alright then, out with it.”

“Laogahire…”

I immediately stiffened, remembering the hateful eyes that had stared at us in open disgust.

“What about her,” I asked shortly.

His chest rose beneath my arm in a deep sigh.

“She… Offered herself to me. She kent we hadna been sharing a bed upon our return. Castle gossip, nae doubt.”

I was afraid to ask what had happened next and he didn’t meet my eyes.

“And?” I said tentatively.

“I told her I made a vow and I wouldna break it, no’ for anyone.”

That brought a smile to my lips and I hugged him closer. Now that our activities were concluded, the chill of the room was creeping in on me. Jamie sat up and pulled one of the quilts from the bed, tucking it around me.

“Why did you tell me that?” I asked, settling into his arms again.

“Because you’re my wife, Sassenach. And I promised ye honesty. I didna think it right to keep that from ye.”

I sighed and kissed him.

“Thank you for telling me, then.”

“Anything for you.”

I settled against him, letting his natural furnace keep me warm as I drifted into a light doze.