#like hesitating before saying uncle lark

[nat-without-a-g]

So how do we think the twins managed to pull the “same man twice” shtick so good Normal overtly misidentified them? Like, Sparrow getting slapped and responding with a millisecond of rage and Normal going ‘oh that’s absolutely my dad’ when Lark is Known to be the angrier twin.. it has to be a convincing getup. I have some theories.

1. Dress Code includes short hair and no beard

2. They intentionally chose to dress differently knowing lark would be the one to meet them if they encountered each other

3. Lark’s disheveled state is how they Both wind up if they neglect grooming themselves.

Bonus: what was probably running through Lark’s head when Lincoln rolled an EIGHTEEN to slap him TWICE while he was trying to signal he was fully lucid.

[handsmotif]

The Queercoding of Pinky and the Brain

This originally was just me infodumping to my friends on discord, but I decided it might be interesting to some people on here, so I polished it up and made it an actual essay lmao

To start, we’re going to break this into 2 sections -- the relationship between the mice, and Pinky’s relationship with gender, because queercoding doesn’t just mean gay!

For a 90′s show, Pinky and the Brain (and its mother show, Animaniacs) was very progressive for its time! But there were still lots of things that they couldn’t slip by censors, and thus, that’s where we have to read between the lines. And that is something I wanted to clarify here before we dive in, the actual meaning of queercoding. It’s NOT the same as queerbaiting. Queerbaiting is when the people producing certain media purposefully dangle the possibility of queer representation to lure in audiences (most prominent examples are BBC Sherlock, Riverdale, and Supernatural I GUESS? who knows abt that last one anymore), but never follow through, purely for profit. Queercoding is when media producers WANT to write in queer representation, but can’t, usually because the censors won’t let them. So, they must resort to subtext. (example: the policemen from Gravity Falls) It could also be unintentional, simply assigning certain characteristics associated with the LGBT community to characters. (example: Bugs Bunny, many Disney villains) Either way, it heavily relies on the audience picking up subtext, but whether it’s malicious or not varies, depending on the media. Bugs Bunny is an example of positive accidental queercoding, while a lot of Disney villains are negative examples.

Now, to actually discuss the gay little mice! Pinky and the Brain, whether it be intentional or not (based off comments from Maurice LaMarche, Rob Paulsen, and Tom Ruegger, signs strongly point to intentional, but it’s never been explicitly confirmed), is an example of positive queercoding.

There are many moments that I could pick out to discuss here, but we’ll start with some VERY on the nose gay metaphors. 

Remember Romy? If you don’t, that’s their actual biological son! Romy came about due to a cloning accident, where their DNA got combined and spat him out. 

There’s SO many things I could say about Romy. Every appearance he makes has an overarching gay metaphor as the plot. His first appearance in the episode Brinky (yeah it’s literally titled their ship name), it deals with his dads (WHICH I ALSO WANT TO POINT OUT, he DOES call them both dad, and they do both call him their son) disapproving of the fact that he wants to leave home and not follow in their footsteps of taking over the world. Brain even goes as far as disowning him whenever he tells him, which is certainly something a lot of queer people can unfortunately relate to. Also seen a lot in this episode is Pinky and Brain arguing even more than a married couple than usual, which pushes Romy away even further. Later, when Romy eventually does leave, and Brain starts to regret chasing him away, he tries desperately to reach out to him, but Romy doesn’t want anything to do with him. They end up tracking him down to an apartment building, where Romy is now living with his human girlfriend. When questioned about their relationship, the girlfriend, named Bunny, goes off on a tangent about how people shouldn’t judge others based on labels or relationships (hello?), and that Brain needs to be more tolerant. Brain apologizes and Romy forgives him. Happy ending.

Romy’s only other appearance is in the comics. Essentially, the plot of this one is that Brain wants to become the president of the local high school’s PTA, but he needs Romy’s help to make it look like he has a normal home life. He also enlists the help of Billie, the obligatory Woman introduced to make sure Brain doesn’t look as gay as he actually is, that he has a crush on. She pretends to be his girlfriend, and Pinky pretends to be Romy’s uncle, while they make up the story that Romy’s actual mother was lost at sea. Because if the organization found out that Brain has a son with a MAN??? THINK of the controversy! Anyway, the plan works, and Brain actually manages to get elected as president. Throughout this though, Pinky gets WEIRDLY jealous that Brain keeps brushing him aside for Billie. To the point where during Brain’s inauguration, Pinky actually dresses up as the wife/mother lost at sea and storms into the room.

[ID: Comic panels of Pinky, Brain, and Romy on stage at the inauguration ceremony. Pinky busts into room wearing drag, saying, “Yoo hoo! I’m back from years lost at sea to be with my son and ungrateful husband! Narf!” He then hugs Romy, while glaring at Brain. He goes on to say, “I’ll stand by your side, even though you left me behind!” The people in the audience begin to question this, saying, “Oh great fuzzy bangs!”, “What’d she say?!”, “He deserted her to be with that other woman!”, “What kind of monster is he?!”. Brain then rips off Pinky’s wig and says, “This isn’t my wife! This isn’t even a woman! It’s my roommate, Pinky.” Pinky replies, “Well, yes... But Romy really is my son! Poit!” And Brain responds, “N-Nonsense! He’s my son!” More people in the audience angrily speak up, saying, “What’s that?”, “He lives with a guy who likes to dress up in women’s clothing and the both claim to be that kid’s father!”, “Grumble! Mutter!” /END ID]

Needless to say, this doesn’t end well for them. What we can conclude from this is that homophobia exists in the Pinky and the Brain universe, and our characters are directly affected by it.

Moving on, And-There-Was-Only-One-Bed is a pretty common occurrence with these two. Their cage is big, they have plenty of room for two beds, but? They choose to sleep together? Even in some times where this has been inconsistent and they DO have separate beds, they’re always RIGHT next to each other. (what if we put our minecraft beds together ❤😳)

I would like to mention the episode, You’ll Never Eat Food Pellets In This Town Again! This episode is interesting to say the least. Deals with a lot of the meta of the show. Anyway. In this episode, Brain has a nightmare that he’s in a loveless marriage with Billie. You know, the woman he’s supposed to have a crush on. In the end, he wakes up from the nightmare in the same bed as Pinky.

Speaking of female love interests, Pinky is seen having multiple relationships with characters of different species. Any time this is brought up by Brain, Pinky counters with Brain being too intolerant. An honorable mention with this is in Wakko’s Wish, when Pinky is with Pharfignewton, and Brain’s constant pestering about their relationship could be read as jealousy. Pinky needs a mousy date, after all!

Something else I would like to mention is in one episode (I forget what it’s called, I’ll try to look it up later and edit this), Brain is applying for a job. The employer asks Brain if he’s married, and Brain hesitates before saying he “has a roommate,” but that he’s occupied with his own things, which then cuts to a shot of Pinky applying lipstick.

Leading into part two of this essay, Pinky’s relationship with gender! Pinky has always been very gender nonconforming, and loves to wear dresses, do his makeup, and make himself look pretty. For the most part, this is played pretty straight, and not as a gag, like a lot of shows tend to do! It’s just a casual fact about him that he likes to present femininely sometimes.

This does play into their taking over the world plans pretty often, where Pinky wears drag, usually either to sneak into somewhere. Like in one of their earliest appearances on Animaniacs, Noah’s Lark, where they pose as a couple to board Noah’s, and I quote, “love boat.” After boarding, Noah says to himself, “Who am I to judge?” Okay. Yeah. Alright. Anyway.

I actually had less to say on this than I thought I did, but I wanted to make sure to emphasize that Pinky at the very least is coded as being Not Quite Cis, and that he’s played a key part in helping a lot of people watching the show figure out that they’re also Not Quite Cis. 

Wrapping this up because I’m hungry, but I want to throw in some more honorable mentions that I really do not see any type of cishet explanations for:

They literally go on a romantic date at a very fancy restaurant in Brain’s Night Off. This is played extremely casually, and the only remark from anyone that they receive is that they are “much smaller than the usual clients.”

Pinky, on at least one occasion, daydreams about him and Brain being a married couple, and wanting to be a housewife (the original malewife ❤)

There’s an issue in the comics where Pinky has a crush on another male mouse, and when Brain gets annoyed, Pinky reassures him that he thinks Brain is cute and quite the catch too

Brain attempting to kiss Pinky in the reboot??????

Brain actually did conquer the world once in the Halloween special, because Pinky made a deal with the devil for it, and thus Pinky got sent to hell! Brain actually went to hell and gave up the world to bring him back

Brain was extremely close to conquering the world once more in the Christmas special, but after reading what Pinky’s feelings for him were (nothing romantic, just Pinky basically just praising Brain for being so hardworking and an amazing mouse, and lamenting that he never gets anything for it), he gets so emotional that he sabotages himself and wishes everyone a Merry Christmas instead

TLDR; these mice are very queer and need therapy, and are probably the most heavily queercoded characters that I can think of in children’s media.

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

the best by far is you: chapter 14

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Previous Chapter

For all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you -  Cecilia and the satellite

————

Summary: An exploration of Claire & Jamie’s story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the Battle of Culloden.

Chapter 14

May 1746 

In the light of morning, Claire woke in a strange room, in a bed she’d never slept in before last night. And yet her hand still reached for the pillow next to her as her consciousness slowly surfaced. Of course he wasn’t there. They’d never shared this bed, but being back at Lallybroch meant that his presence haunted this place at every turn. It felt wrong that she was here in his family’s home and Jamie wasn’t.  

When she trekked downstairs in the mornings now, she half-expected to see him in the parlor with his arms full with the babies, or at the breakfast table in discussion with Ian and Murtagh.

And of course, any giggle or peep out of her young nieces had Claire’s gaze following the sound, knowing full well she wouldn’t find Faith at the source but still helpless to stop the impulse to check. 

Her logical mind knew they wouldn’t be here, but the places in her mind that were filled with Jamie and Faith could not reconcile this. So much of Lallybroch was painted with memories of them. 

Her one comfort in all of this was Fergus. 

Fergus, who stayed by her side and in his own way told her he would do as Jamie had asked of him many times before; he would look after Claire. 

And Fergus, who was only 11 and still reeling from the loss of Jamie, was in dire need of his own looking after. He was hers to take care of, to mother, to protect. 

So when Ian told him after breakfast one day to get ready for a trip to Broch Morda for supplies, Fergus was hesitant to leave. 

“You can go, Fergus. It’s alright.” 

“No, Milady. I will stay.”

“Fergus,” her tone softened. “I will still be here when you come back. I promise. I’m not going anywhere without you.” She could see his resolve weakening at that so she gave him a quick side-hug and released him with, “Go on then. Go with your uncle.” 

It didn’t strike her until they had left, what she had said. Ian had smiled at her, a little curiously, and left with Fergus, one hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

“Uncle, hmm?” had been how Jenny announced that she had noticed, too. 

She found Jenny’s gaze. “Well, he is, technically… isn’t he?” 

“Och, aye,” Jenny agreed easily. “We kenned before the war that he was yours, when ye and Jamie asked us to… to raise both him and Faith, should anything happen. Ye’ve jest never said it like that, calling Ian his uncle.” 

“There’s a lot that we should’ve said sooner with Fergus.” She swallowed roughly, fighting the urge to cry. The rest remained unspoken ‒ the fear that, with Jamie at least, they might’ve missed a chance to correct this. 

  The rhythm of life at Lallybroch didn’t cease with Claire’s return, though she found herself unsure of her place in it now. Lady Broch Turach no longer, she watched as Jenny ran the house. 

She had been eager to help still, but Jenny had insisted she rest for a few days after her recent journey and in light of her condition.  

Which is how Claire found herself trying to make herself less of a stranger to her small nieces and nephew.

Wee Jamie still held some small spark of recognition for his auntie, and his joy over her return warmed her to the backbone. Little Maggie was reticent and shy around Claire, needing some time and space to make up her mind about her. But fifteen-month-old Kitty, as the youngest of the household, had never known the luxury of having either of her parents’ undivided attention and had grown used to being passed from one set of arms to the next. As such, she’d never been a clingy child and in contrast to her older sister, Kitty warmed up to her Auntie Claire very fast.    

By mid-afternoon, she’d crawled into Claire’s lap and fallen asleep. That was how Mrs. Crook found the two of them when she came to collect the girls for their nap.

“D’ye want me to take her, Mistress?” 

“No.” Claire’s arms tightened ever so slightly around Kitty’s small form. “I’m alright with her. Thank you.” 

Jenny flitted about throughout the day, never quite sitting still, but she paused when she found Claire and Kitty there in the parlor. “That didna take long,” she said warmly, her gaze flicking down to sweet Kitty. 

“She’s quite the character now.” 

“Aye, since she learnt tae speak, she’s kept us laughing.” 

Claire exhaled a soft laugh, her gaze inexorably drawn back to the sleeping girl in her arms. She felt Jenny sink into the seat next to her, and drew in a deep breath. 

“What’s she like now?” Claire asked, her voice trembling as she managed to get the words out. Her eyes flicked up to Jenny to see if she understood that she wasn’t asking about Kitty.

Jenny made a soft, pitying sound and took her time considering how to answer.

“She’s a terribly smart wee thing,” Jenny said at length and despite how Jenny’s words made her ache, Claire also felt the pull of a proud smile. “Always keepin’ me on my toes, that one. And she was always the one in charge, despite Maggie being six months older.  

“And still as stubborn as ever, if no’ more. Took an age tae get her tae sleep wi’out needing to be held.”

Claire’s smile faltered, her thoughts flooded with the nights spent holding Faith in her arms, walking the length of the upper hallway until she fell asleep. She supposed Faith had been a bit of a difficult baby in that regard ‒ she never could fall right to sleep if they laid her down in her cradle. But Faith was their first baby and they’d been too wrapped up in her to try and change that nighttime routine with her. 

Jenny studied her expression. “Ye ken I was the same way with my wee Jamie. Lad never so much as touched the ground until he was well o’er a year. But with all the bairns, I‒” 

“Oh, Jenny, no. I’m not upset or judging you. With all the little ones, you couldn’t possibly…” 

“She only started going to sleep on her own when we let her share a bed with Maggie,” Jenny added.    

“Really?”

“Aye, they were always together when they were awake so we put her in wi’ Maggie one night and then she was happy as a lark.” 

Claire’s gaze dropped again to small Kitty. “They must miss her,” she said softly. “As I’m sure she misses them.” 

“She’s still such a wee darling,” Jenny said after a moment, and Claire felt her heart constrict. “She was always the last one out of bed every morning, but she’d look for me first when she woke, aye? After weeks of that, I… I never felt like my morning really started until after she’d run and found me... given me a hug. I miss that. I miss her‒”

She didn’t miss the way Jenny turned away slightly, surreptitiously wiping at her tears. Claire swallowed past the sudden lump on her throat as a heavy silence followed.      

“Ken she’s yer bairn, Claire, but after months of…” Jenny’s eyes were watery but she blinked back more tears and straightened. Claire watched her physically steel herself against the pain. 

“She was yours, during that time. I know that,” Claire whispered tightly, fighting her own rush of tears. For Jenny’s loss. For Faith’s. For her own. “You and Ian were prepared to raise her if… if Jamie and I didn’t make it back. I can never thank you enough.” 

“I’ll accept no thanks for it. She’s blood.” 

“I didn’t mean…” Claire reached for Jenny’s hand, surprised to feel Jenny’s tight squeeze in response. It was hard for both of them, unimaginably so. 

“I wanted ye both to come back for her. I’m no’ saying‒”

“No, of course not,” Claire said firmly. “I only meant that it… it was a comfort to me when we were gone, knowing she was here. Knowing she was loved. Jamie and I couldn’t have entrusted her to anyone else.” 

“I wasna in the house when Murtagh came and fetched her,” Jenny said suddenly, her voice suddenly wooden. “I found out a short while later. Mrs. Crook made a fuss of it but she didn’t stop him.” Her gaze met Claire’s and she saw the pain lurking behind Jenny’s stubborn resolve. “But if it had been me, Claire, he never would’ve gone one step away from here wi’ that child. And I jest keep thinking if I had been here to stop him, mebbe none o’ this would’ve happened. Mebbe Jamie would’ve had tae figure out a different plan if Faith never arrived. And surely ye wouldna have agreed to go anywhere wi’out her.”

“Jenny…” Claire sighed. “I have replayed that day over and over in my mind, wondering how I could’ve changed the outcome. But at the end of the day, it’s wasted energy. Because there’s nothing either of us could do now to change what’s happened. I know you know that.”     

She squeezed Jenny’s hand a little tighter. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Neither did ye.” 

Jenny’s words surprised her and she let out a humorless laugh. “Not so sure about that‒”

“Claire,” Jenny chided sharply. “Ye didna ken what would happen ‒ and how could ye? Would ye have gone if ye had?”

“No, but I‒” 

“Are ye really goin’ tae argue wi’ me o’er the same thing ye just told me no’ to punish myself about?” 

Her mouth snapped shut, no counterargument coming to mind. She’d meant what she said ‒ Jenny should carry no guilt for that day. That didn’t mean the choice of going through the stones that day didn’t weigh heavily on Claire’s conscience. But Jenny was bound and determined to make the same argument on her behalf, she could see.     

“How far along are ye?” Jenny asked when their conversation stalled. 

“Eleven weeks or so. Still so much that can go wrong.” The last sentence came out in a rush. Jenny’s hand held tight to her own, an unspoken understanding passing between them. “In fact, I‒ well, besides when I came through that morning, I haven’t felt sick once and I worry… what if that…” 

“Have ye bled at all?” Jenny cut in, not unkindly but to the point. 

“N-no, but it would take some time still before my body‒” She couldn’t finish the sentence, but Jenny squeezed her hand, seeming to understand. 

“Were ye sick when you went through back tae yer time?” 

“Sick as a dog the entire time I was there. That’s how it had been when I was pregnant with Faith.” 

She hadn’t realized she was crying until Jenny’s hand gently brushed the tears from her face. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to talk to someone about this until the words were spilling out to Jenny, no longer festering under her skin. 

“I’ve been so focused on finding Jamie and Faith the last few weeks that I’ve barely even thought about the baby, but I‒ oh god, I couldn’t bear to lose it!” 

The sobs came then and she was pulled sideways into Jenny’s arms and held there. Kitty stirred but didn’t wake, stretching sleepily in her new position.     

“Dinna talk like that, Claire.” Jenny’s voice was soft and soothing but laced with concern. “Until we ken otherwise, this bairn is jest fine. It’s no use tae spend yer time worrying when it might jest be yer sickness easing up.” 

Rationally, Claire knew this could be the reason… her morning sickness letting up as she approached her second trimester.  

“Ye willna be alone, Claire,” Jenny startled her by speaking right to the heart of her fear, the part she couldn’t possibly put into words without breaking. “No matter what happens to the bairn or to Jamie or Faith. Ye hear me?”

Jamie had said those same words to her once and though she would never quite be whole if she lost any of them, she knew Jamie was still right. He’d seen to it that she had a family who could carry her through even the unthinkable. 

Her free hand came up to grasp Jenny’s arm where it was holding tightly to her. “I hear you.”

“Milady!” 

“Jenny! Claire!” 

Fergus and Ian’s voices announced their return from Broch Morda late in the day and had both Jenny and Claire hastening out to meet them. 

“What’s happened?” Jenny demanded. 

“There’s a letter for you!” Fergus jumped down from the wagon before Ian had even slowed the horses to full stop. 

“Careful!” Claire scolded, but it was lost on Ian’s next words. 

“Jest have a look at the handwriting.” 

Fergus handed the letter over to Jenny, to whom it was addressed, and Claire had to restrain herself from snatching it from Jenny’s fingers when she caught sight of the familiar, fine penmanship that belonged to her husband. 

 “Jamie…” 

Jenny tore open the letter abruptly and unfolded it while Claire arranged herself at Jenny’s shoulder, peering over at the contents of it. Not a word of it was in English and bits of the Gaelic was lost on Claire. 

“What does it say?” Fergus asked impatiently, but Claire and Jenny were both too engrossed to respond. Instead, Claire slipped an arm around his shoulders and tucked him against her side. 

“That word there ‒ what does that mean?” She pointed. 

Jenny gave her a sideways glance. “Sorcha? It’s… well, it’s you, Claire. It’s yer name in Gàidhlig. He’s written that you’ve gone. That he’s lost ye.” 

She didn’t need a translator for the next sentence written in French. One word jumped out at her and suddenly her vision blurred with tears. It was clear he was trying to be careful; he’d referred to their child as faith, a belief. But he had her. 

There was no way to tell him of her return but somehow just the confirmation that Jamie and Faith were alive and together at the time he’d written gave Claire a sweeping sense of relief.   

“They’re alright,” she breathed out. 

“Where are they?” Fergus asked. 

“He doesna say.” Jenny sighed. 

“Where are they headed?” 

It might’ve been quicker to hand Fergus the letter and let him see for himself, but instead, Jenny scanned it again, as though trying to extract some further message from it. “He doesna say,” she repeated, with no effort to hide her disappointment. 

“He’s being cautious. Especially because of Faith. And he wouldn’t want to put any of your lives in jeopardy by disclosing his plans.”

“But…” Fergus began and then hesitated. When Claire glanced down at him, she could see the concern etched into his expression. His gaze slid up to meet hers. “How will we find them if we don’t know where he is or where he’s going?” 

Claire breathed in deeply. An excellent question, she thought, and one she had no answer to. “Don’t you worry. We’ll… we’ll keep looking.” 

  They went inside, but the contents of the letter stayed top of mind for all as they tried to move about their day. Ian read the letter for himself and then Murtagh read it when he joined them before dinner. In the evening, they gathered in the parlor, and Jamie’s letter ended up in Claire’s hands while the discussion of Jamie and Faith’s whereabouts unfolded around them. 

“He could’ve gone to Leoch.” 

Claire pulled a face at that suggestion from Murtagh. “Surely not after Colum’s death and‒” her gaze broke away to wee Jamie and she couldn’t get the words out of how it had ended with Dougal in front of the little ones. 

“Aye, with both brothers gone, the role of clan chieftain will pass to wee Hamish. Doubt he’d give Jamie much trouble, wee runt that he is. No one there would ken what happened wi’ Dougal MacKenzie. And Jamie does have people there who would be loyal to him and give him shelter if he asked for it.” 

Claire considered it, but only for a moment. “No, he wouldn’t risk it. Colum wanted to remain neutral but Dougal fought in the rebellion with his men and there’s no telling how the British will interpret Clan MacKenzie’s loyalty. Especially in the immediate aftermath, they work tirelessly to squash any trace of rebellion. Besides, if anyone knows of Jamie’s ties to the MacKenzie clan, it would be the next place the Redcoats would look after here.” 

Murtagh only grunted, still considering. 

“I ken how he feels about Lord Lovat, but maybe…” Ian trailed off, staring at Claire. “Have I missed something, Claire?”   

She breathed in briskly. “This hadn’t felt relevant when I shared my story with you all, but… Lord Lovat will be executed as a traitor by the British for his involvement in the rising. There was a… Well. Let’s just say I knew of this before Culloden, but I found confirmation of Lord Lovat’s execution when I returned to my time, while I looked for Jamie. And Jamie knows about his grandfather’s death, too. He won’t bring Faith there, even if they are family.” 

Jenny took the news of her grandsire in stride while Ian cleared his throat awkwardly, not sure how to move on from that piece of news. 

“More likely he’ll go where no one kens him,” Murtagh said softly, his gaze on the fire. “If he canna turn to family without risk involved.” 

Claire didn’t miss the way Fergus’s face fell at this pronouncement. He had picked a spot on the floor, away from everyone else and closer to the fire, but his attention to their conversation was completely present. 

She’d never seen him so morose before, but she understood perfectly why he felt so hopeless ‒ it was a daily battle of her own not to give in to the feeling. 

“Fergus, come sit by me,” she called to him. 

He went without any resistance and sunk into the spot next to her on the sofa. Claire pulled him closer and his head leaned against her shoulder. “It’ll be alright, love,” she murmured quietly. 

“Can I see this?” he asked, ignoring her comment. 

“Yes, of course.” With a sad smile, she handed over the letter to him and then let her attention drift back to the conversation at hand. 

Fergus pored over the contents of the letter and, like everyone else, found nothing new to glean from it. Clearly frustrated, he began to fidget with the letter, using the weight of the wax seal on one end to flip the paper back and forth, open and then folded shut.

Claire watched him, unable to ignore the movement from the corner of her eye. Something clicked in her brain and her hand shot out, stopping Fergus. The red wax seal faced up to both of them and Fergus glanced curiously at Claire. 

“I’ve seen this seal before.” 

She said it quietly enough that none of the others heard it ‒ she’d said it mostly to herself but Fergus had caught it, too. 

“Where have I seen this seal before?” 

Fergus took a deep breath, his whole demeanor shifting. “Is it not Milord’s?” 

“No, it’s not his. But it’s familiar, somehow…” 

“If you remember, it could help us find them, non?”        

She frowned slightly at it. “Perhaps. If I remember.” 

That night she dreamt of the World War, of being back in the field hospitals tending to wounded soldiers. But she was looking for someone in particular as she checked the cots of the wounded. Suddenly, someone tugged on her arm and she turned, finding Mary Hawkins at her side, clad in the same dress she’d worn that day at the apothecary in Inverness.   

“Please, Claire, you have to help him!” Claire could see Alex Randall suddenly, laid out on a cot just behind Mary. A nurse was pulling a sheet over his head, already gone. “He’s dying!” 

“I’m sorry, Mary. There’s nothing I can do.” There was an urgency, an almost physical push for Claire to leave that she couldn’t define. “I have to find my husband.” 

Claire woke with a start and laid very still in the dark room. For a moment, her mind struggled to place that room, and which year she resided in. She curled up on her side and breathed in deeply, the details of her dream already starting to fade. But seeing Mary, someone from this time, plopped into the middle of 1943 was hard to forget. And the powerlessness she’d felt of being unable to cure poor Alex…

Her eyes flew open again and stared through the darkness.  

She had seen the seal before. Three weeks ago on Alex Randall’s desk. 

“Randall?” Murtagh scowled. 

“Alex Randall, yes.” Claire handed the letter to him. “During one of the times I tended to him in Inverness, I wrote out a list for Mary of what she could give Alex to keep him comfortable and help him rest. The seal was there. He must’ve recently written a letter ‒ or Mary.” 

“And ye’re sure? Ye ken it’s the same as this one and no’ just because ye dreamed it?” 

Claire, on some level, understood his skepticism, but she leveled an irritated gaze at him for that remark all the same. “Yes, I’m sure.”    

“What the devil would Jamie be doing wi’ a dead man’s seal? Wi’ a Randall’s seal?” 

“Not Alex,” Claire murmured, noticing the sounds of little ones up in the hallway. It wouldn’t be long before the family joined them. “But what about Mary?”

Murtagh gave a soft grunt, considering this. 

“She would’ve still been in Inverness,” Claire pressed. “And Jamie knew this. What if he stopped there first after the stones?”

Murtagh looked doubtful of that possibility but he didn’t say anything. 

“How else would Jamie have used this seal, hmm?” She pressed the issue, feeling for the first time a sense of hope. They had a direction, at least. They knew where to start. If Mary was still in Inverness, they had someone to question who likely saw Jamie and Faith after Culloden.

“Suppose we head for Inverness and we’re wrong about the seal. What then?” 

Claire gave a helpless shrug. “We don’t have anything else to go on. If not Inverness, where else would we look that wouldn’t be a complete guess?”   

In 4 days’ time, they were packing up from Lallybroch to head for Inverness. 

For Claire, that meant grabbing what she would need for the journey, but also what she could bring should she find Jamie and Faith. When they’d left from Lallybroch the last time, there were plenty of their things they’d left behind, like Jamie’s mother’s pearls that he’d given to Claire on their wedding night. 

She packed her maternity stays she’d worn in Paris, uncertain of where she’d be when the need arose for them again. She stilled in her packing at that thought. She had no idea where she’d be when the baby came, either, and that thought was terrifying. Digging into a chest in the Laird’s room, she unearthed some of Faith’s clothing from when she was a tiny baby. They’d packed them away last year ‒ was it only last year? ‒ with the unspoken hope between her and Jamie that they’d have a reason to use them again someday. 

Her fingers toyed with the fabric of one simple white nightgown. These were such imperfect circumstances to bring a baby into, but then again… Faith had entered the world amidst equally imperfect circumstances. Claire knew she could do it, if she had to… raise the baby on her own. But oh, the thought of this baby never knowing Jamie or Faith broke her heart clean in two. 

A light rap on the door startled Claire and she turned to see Jenny with a few of Faith’s things ‒ her doll, a blanket, and the wooden box that Claire knew held 12 apostle spoons. 

“Are you sure about that one?” She gestured to the box. “I know that’s a family heirloom.” 

“It was Faith’s christening gift. It should be returned to Faith.”    

Claire smiled faintly, bolstered slightly by Jenny’s unwavering belief that wherever this journey ended, Faith and Jamie would be there. 

“All set, then?” Claire poked her head into Fergus’s room. The boy was finishing up packing his things neatly into his pack as Jamie had shown him. He’d been different the last few days, since she’d remembered about the seal. Since they had a direction in mind to begin. Hope had returned for him and no shortage of determination as well. 

“Oui, Milady. Just about.” 

His wooden swords leaned against the wall in one corner. He’d already decided that those would go to wee Jamie, that they were too bulky to bring along and that he was too old for them now anyway. 

But Claire felt a soft swell of relief to see him tucking his carved horse into his bag to take with him. He was growing up much too quickly, but he hadn’t outgrown her and for that, she was grateful.    

“Are you sad to leave this behind? It’s been your room for a while.” 

Fergus glanced over the room and gave a small shrug. “It’s only a room.”

She thought of all the places they’d lived over the two years that Fergus had been with them ‒ Jared’s place, Lallybroch, drafty cottages and flimsy tents dotted all along Scotland and England. They’d given him an upbringing not unlike what she’d had with her Uncle Lamb, and with it, an untethered understanding of home. 

“You’re right, it’s only a room.” 

She reached an arm out to him as he slung his pack over his shoulder, and they walked out of the room together with his shoulder tucked into her side. 

  “Ye have everything then?” 

“Think so.” 

Claire looked up from adjusting her saddlebag with last-minute provisions and saw Jenny standing there, arms folded across her chest.  

She’d said her goodbyes to wee Jamie, Maggie, and Kitty already, which was harder for a second time, having felt as though she’d only gotten to know them again just to leave them, never knowing when ‒ or even if ‒ she might see them next.

Murtagh and Fergus were securing the last of the packs to Murtagh’s horse so she and Jenny had a moment to themselves. 

“I feel like we just did this, saying our goodbyes,” Claire said ruefully. 

Jenny pulled her into a tight hug. “Aye, weel, the two o’ ye never can seem to stay out o’ trouble.” 

She gave Jenny a squeeze before releasing her. 

“Take care of yerself, sister. And I don’t jest mean because o’ the bairn. Though…” her hand came to rest on Claire’s stomach over the layers of her skirts. “Do take care o’ this one as well.” 

“I will. And I’ll send word as soon as I know anything. I promise.” 

Jenny smiled appreciatively at that, though Claire knew in this century, it would take weeks if not months for the news to arrive. It hardly felt right in these circumstances to leave their family waiting that long without word, but they didn’t know anything different than the snail’s pace of correspondence. 

“If I find them‒”

“When ye find them,” Jenny corrected her. The only time she’d even hinted at the possibility of losing Jamie and Faith had been that day in the parlor, and only to assure Claire that they would support her.  

“When I do … it will still be a while that the British occupy the Highlands. I don’t know when it will be safe to return to Lallybroch, but it might not be for a long while.” 

“I ken that.” Jenny’s expression was strong and unshakable but Claire knew… the reality of what stretched out before them even if they found Jamie quickly still meant that the Murrays might not see them for years. Might not see them ever again, even. “Dinna bring them home if it’s no’ safe. We understand.” 

Claire nodded. It didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell to be apart. She pulled Jenny back in for a last hug, murmuring a quiet apology against her shoulder, and hoping that Jenny knew that she understood what Jenny was losing, too. What she’d already lost. Faith had lived under Lallybroch’s roof since she was four months old. And for eight months, she’d been entrusted solely to Jenny and Ian. It wasn’t just Jenny’s only remaining brother that was missing, likely not to return any time soon, but the niece who was also a little more than that.   

“She’ll know about how you felt about her morning greetings,” Claire found herself saying. “I’ll tell her everything about her life here, including what you shared with me from the last several months. She’ll know it all, I promise.” 

Murtagh and Fergus were hovering awkwardly nearby, having loaded everything onto the two horses they were taking ‒ Murtagh’s and the horse Claire had bought in Inverness. She released Jenny in time to see Ian making his way out to say goodbye to them. 

“C’mere, lad,” Jenny beckoned Fergus to her. “Come say goodbye to yer auntie then.” 

Claire turned to Ian, at a loss for what to say. He smiled at her, a touch sadly, and pulled her into a hug. “Take care o’ yer Fraser, aye?” 

She felt her vision burn with tears, remembering how they’d parted last year. “I will,” she said, her voice raspy. “And you take care of yours. Take extra good care of her, please.” 

Ian’s response was to squeeze her tighter. She sighed and finally released him, seeing that Jenny was laying into Murtagh what seemed to be instructions for looking out for her and Fergus. Murtagh appeared less than thrilled, but wisely only grunted in acknowledgement. 

When everyone had said their goodbyes, it was time to leave. Claire turned to Fergus and tilted her head in the direction of the horses. “Your choice. You can ride with me or with Murtagh.” 

“I will start the journey with Murtagh,” Fergus said decidedly. “And when he gets too grumpy, I will ride with you, Milady.” 

His words broke the heavy feeling in their group as laughter rippled out. 

“I dinna have to let ye ride wi’ me,” Murtagh fired back, though his eyes danced with merriment as he mounted his horse and extended a hand to Fergus to help him up. 

Ian offered Claire a hand as she mounted her horse. She turned to Murtagh and Fergus. “Ready?” 

Murtagh gave a curt nod, and Fergus from his perch behind Murtagh gave Claire a determined nod of his own. Claire gave her horse a firm kick and they were off. 

This time, when they cleared the gates, Claire looked back. She wanted to remember seeing Jenny and Ian by the front steps waving goodbye, and how Lallybroch looked in the early May light with the rest of the world all green around it. For as long as she lived, if she never saw it again, it would live always in her memory just like this. The first place that felt like home.  

But it’s only a place, she reminded herself. Though she couldn’t find it within herself to feel completely as Fergus did, as she might’ve when she were younger. Lallybroch was home for a while. And the Murrays were family. 

But home would be if‒ no, when… home would be when she found Jamie and Faith, with Fergus and Murtagh with them, and their little family wouldn’t be separated for the first time since last August. Home would be back together again. 

Jamie and Faith were out there somewhere. All they had to do was find them.    

[lo-mindpalace]

10 - Sweet Rides

(BOBBY’S POV)

“What am I supposed to do? They’re your kids, John.” I said.

“Bobby… Dean is 10 and Sammy’s 6. I can’t let them go with me on this case.”

“That’s why I’m saying they are your kids. They are more important than this case! Come on, let me go there instead of you. Stay at my place with the boys.”

“No. Maybe it’s a lead to the son of a bitch who killed Mary. That’s MY case.”

I raised my hands and shook my head in disapproval. John looked at me with dead eyes. What the hell was wrong with him? I wanted to tell him so many things. About how it was wrong to leave his sons alone while he was off hunting like a desperate man. I met his boys in February 1989. And now this was the fifth time I saw them and 1989 wasn’t even finished. I began to understand that John was turning me into a nanny or something like that. This was wrong. I like the boys but John is the father for God’s sake. I was about to tell something and I felt Dean’s little hands gripping my pants and looking at his father while standing behind me.

“Where are you going, Dad?”

“I have to go to work, Dean. You stay with Bobby and you take care of Sammy, understand?”

“Yes, Sir…”

John looked at me and nodded. I was still shaking my head in disapproval, my angry gaze stabbing John’s empty shell. Idjit. Such an Idjit. He left without words and didn’t even turn around when Dean called him one last time. I saw the little boy’s sad face and closed the door. I was about to say something but I heard a big noise in the kitchen as if something very fragile had fallen. Dean’s eyes widened and he ran into the room.

“SAMMY!”

I followed Dean and saw shard of glasses which belonged to an old bottle of vodka. Sam was standing next to it, his face full of fear. Dean rushed into his brother and checked on him.

“You’re okay, Sammy? Are you hurt somewhere?”

“Mh-no…” Sam said, tears beginning to fill his eyes. “I just wanted to drink water…”

“That’s not water, Sam. That’s alcohol. You can’t drink that, it’s forbidden, okay?”

“I’m thirsty… Where is daddy…? I want to go home…”

The poor kid was about to cry but Dean hugged him and dried his little brother’s tears.

“Sammy, look at me… Look at me.” Dean said softly. “Dad is working. So, we have to stay at Bobby’s. I know it’s a weird place without any toys but we will find games to play, alright?”

I rolled my eyes when Dean mentioned how weird my place was. Well, it was obviously weird because it wasn’t meant for kids. I sighed and told the boys to go to the living room while I was cleaning what remained of the poor bottle of vodka. I had to find something to keep the boys’ poor minds busy. I looked at the pile of mails and flyers and saw that a gathering of old cars – with activities such as car rodeos or rallies – was taking place in Sioux Falls today. What a lucky dude I was. I took the paper and went to the living room. I crouched in front of Sam and Dean.

“Look boys, I know there is nothing to do here but… What about going there?” I asked while giving Dean the paper. “It’s a gathering of old cars and there are a lot of things to do there.”

“But Dad said we had to stay here…” Dean said while pouting.

“Well, John’s not here so I am technically in charge of you boys. I am the one who can decide.”

Dean seemed to hesitate. He kept looking at the paper before looking at Sam.

“Do you want to see old and sweet rides, Sammy?”

“Like the one daddy has?”

“Yes, even older!”

“I would love to.” Sam said with a big smile.

Sam gave me a beautiful smile and I admit I couldn’t resist to this angelic face. Damn, John, you should see your boys right now.

* * *

The sun was up in the sky and Sam and Dean were over excited. “Look, Sammy” Dean was repeating to his brother, showing him all the cars. I had a beer in my hand and I put mini sandwiches and a bottle of water in a bag for the boys. They were running everywhere like little fireballs and it was hard to keep an eye on them. But I managed to do my best unlike John. I like him, but he is irresponsible with his children.

Sam and Dean were looking at old cars. I even told them that my first car was this old Studebaker lark from 1960 but mine was greener. Dean was beginning to be an expert in cars, like his father, and Sam was paying attention to each word Dean was saying, without really understanding but seeing his old brother that enthusiastic made little Sammy happy. After a moment I called them to come watch the car rodeo. When they arrived on the platform, I gave them the sandwiches and the water and they sat quietly, Sam swinging his legs happily. It was like they never went to these kinds of events and at this thought, I was a bit sad. Poor kids. They deserve a normal life. During the car rodeo, Dean was shouting like a cowboy or something, whereas Sam was snuggling a bit against me.

“Are they hurt? The people inside the cars?” He said with a bit shaky voice.

“Don’t worry, Kid. That’s their job, it’s a show.” I said, reassuring him. “You don’t like it?”

“Not really but Dean is very happy so that is making me happy too.”

I smiled a little bit. Those brothers were very close. Dean was everything to Sam and that pinched my heart a bit.

“Okay, let’s say that car rodeo is Dean’s entertainment. What do you want after this? For your entertainment?”

Sam pouted while thinking.

“Fireworks…?”

“Mh, I think the fireworks are later after this show. But we will stay to see them.”

“Thanks Uncle Bobby.” Sam said with a smile.

I raised my eyebrows at the nickname. I swear, those kids were making my grumpy ass very soft. Sam stayed close to me the entire show, eating his sandwich. At the end of the rodeo, we went for a walk, in order to stretch our legs. We wandered around the cars until we found a good spot to see the fireworks. It was already getting late and Sammy was being impatient. After an hour, the first firework exploded in the sky. Sam’s eyes were shining and he was captivated by the colors. During this moment, Dean came closer to me and held my hand. I lowered my eyes and looked at him, a bit surprised by his movement. He looked at me too, smiling.

“Thank you, Bobby. That was a beautiful day…”

“You’re welcome Kid. I know my place can be boring for two children, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I understand that you are not supposed to keep us. But it’s nice to do it anyway.”

My face saddened a bit.

“I will buy some stuff for you boys just in case you are staying again.”

“I really want that…”

“Want… the stuff?” I said arching an eyebrow.

“No… I really want to go to your house again with Sammy. To go to see sweet rides, going to a restaurant, walking around Sioux Falls or just playing hide-and-seek in the scrap yard. If you don’t mind, of course.”

“I really don’t mind, Dean.”

“But… You seemed to hate that when Dad told you to keep an eye on us.” Dean said looking at me.

I sighed. Damn, this kid is a good observer for a ten-year-old boy.

“Yes, well… John is your father. He is supposed to take care of you. Not me… But… I won’t leave you and your brother alone. So, I’ll do your father’s ‘job’.”

“… You are a great father… Uncle… Whatever…”

No words would come out. I looked at Dean and tightened my hand around his. He is such a good kid. He and his brother. Such good kids. I looked at Sam and then the fireworks, enjoying this moment with my two little boys.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hope you liked it. I admit I’m pretty proud about this one... Bobby is one of my fav characters (along with Cas) ♥

[ryuto12]

Throwing For Trust.

A RWBY baseball AU based around Jaune and Cardin, not in a romantic sense, just a bromance. It’s also a modern AU.

The description reads:

Beacons Boys Baseball (Also called the Beacon Dragons) has been doing great for the past four years, mostly due to the blind Pitcher, Fox Alistair, and the brute of a Catcher, Yatsuhashi Daichi. The duo are talented for sure, but their graduating in a couple months.

Their only backups are Jaune Arc, he’s new to baseball, but has an arm for throwing, and Cardin Winchester, who’s been playing since he was seven, and can catch anything thrown at him.

Though after what happened at their middle school, Forever Fall, can the two really play together? Or will they destroy Beacons proud name as a Boys Baseball powerhouse?

A story centered around trust, the theme starts when Fox confesses to Jaune that no one wanted to catch for him due to his blindness, believing that he just couldn’t throw in general.

But Yatsuhashi wasn’t like that. 

“And they were right Jaune.” Fox sighed, tossing the ball from hand to hand.

“What do you mean? Your an amazing Pitcher.” Jaune quirked a brow in confusion, not understanding how jerks were right that Fox couldn’t throw.

“I’m not the best Pitcher at the High School Level, despite what the news would tell you. That’s all Flynt Coal from the Atlas team, but him aside: I can’t throw very well if it’s to anyone but Yatsu.”

Jaune was beyond confused now. “What do you mean?”

“You asked that five solid seconds ago,” Fox remarked, “what I mean is that I trust Yatsu to catch because he trusts me to throw. Before him all I had was my Uncle Copper, but he died when I was nine, so from then on I just threw at the wall.”

Fox paused for a moment, most likely thinking back on it.

“No one ever trusted me to throw for them back in Middle School, back at Kenyte, but one day our Pitcher was sick and the backup twisted his ankle. Yatsu has always been our main Catcher, but I’d never actually thrown to him. No one let him catch for me ti’ll that day, said he was to good for some blind kid.”

Jaune scoffed. “Jerks.”

“Yeah, but, right before we started, Yatsu told me he knew that if I threw it, he’d catch it. I was hesitant, I honestly thought he was just joking around with me. But I threw he caught. We won that game. It was our last Middle School game. Over the Summer, me and Yatsu kept practicing and by Freshmen year, we got known as Sharp Fulcrum.”

“There’s a moral here somewhere, I just can’t find it.” Jaune sighed mournfully, confused as he had ever been.

“If you don’t trust Cardin to catch, and he doesn’t trust you to pitch, your going to destroy Beacons Boys Baseball Teams name.”

The theme also hits (pun intended) when during their first ever practice game pitching and catching, Jaune and Cardin get talked down by Third Year of Haven Academy’s Boys Baseball (Also known as the Haven Lions) Pitcher, Mercury Black openly tells them they suck.

He trusts his Catcher, Sun, to catch the ball, but if he doesn’t he knows his Out Fielders, Sage, Scarlet and Neptune will get the ball.

This leads Cardin and Jaune to trust their own Out Fielders a bit more, including Center Fielder, Lie Ren. If Jaunes pitch is bad and so is Cardin’s catch, Ren has them covered.

In their first ever real game that Fox and Yatsu trust them, there actually up against Haven’s Lions this time. And this time Mercury talks to them about Basemen. 

“Never let them pass first base and you’ll have no problems.” He says.

Mercury trusts his First Basemen, Bolin Hori, but if the ball won’t make it, go for Second Basemen, Nadir Shiko.

And so they have Dove, who’s first base and highly reliable. Second is Russel, he can catch well. Third base? All on Sky Lark, who can get it back to Cardin if he has too.

Who wins? You’ll have to read the story when I publish that chapter to find out.

Next is the Beacon Dragons against the Atlas Whales, where the Pitcher, Flynt Coal, shows the Beacon Dragons how to have fun with the sport they love. Go with the flow, it’s just a game.

And then the Shade Turtles, who show the Beacon Dragons how to take it slow and use their heads while playing. Get smart, get a plan, and win by fighting smarter not harder.

The story also features girlfriend Pyrrha, best friend Ruby, and Oscar as Jaune and Cardins protegee from Middle School. All the Huntsmen characters play baseball, like Oobleck is coach, Oz, Theo, James and Leo are all legends, and Glynda was the best ever female Baseball Player in the whole world.

Faunus exist, with some background mentions to that. 

The background ships include Fox/Yatsu, Whiterose, Bmblby, Crosshares, and Emercury. 

That aside I should have the first chapter published here on Tumblr, Ao3 and FF.net within the next week.

My user for both Ao3 and FF.net is the same as Tumblr: ryuto12.

[doritopaw101]

Arc1, book 2: Chapter 8

Icebelly panted as he forced his paws forward. His sides ached but he had to keep going. He felt like he needed too.

He kept saying he needed to leave camp, and wouldn't stop. Dustpelt and Lionheart were on guard and shut him down every time until Bluestar told them to let him go. He honestly wondered why she let him go.

The camp didn't feel safe like it should've. Greencough still remained, taking hold of Birchstep, Willowpelt, Palepaw, Swiftpaw, and Smokepaw tightly.

Graypaw and Cranepaw fought Lionheart and Miststrike a few days ago, earning the names Graystripe and Cranewing. It was the only good news in a while.

He hadn't realized he got so far until he tripped over a tree root. He smelled the scent of the homes and knew he'd gone far enough. He looked at the tree 'Hollow enough' he thought and pulled himself into it.

He steadied his breathing as he readied for the birth of his kits. He would raise them as Thunderclan and Thunderclan alone. He was glad Bluestar never said anything about them. The other clans could assume where they came from, less chance for Brokenstar to make the connection if Blackfoot kept his trap shut.

-Flashback-

Icebelly had spent most of the gathering having a stare off with Blackfoot before sitting with him and Russetfur in the back. He was surprised Bluestar let him come with him close to kitting, though you couldn't tell with his fur being even more fluffy due to the weather.

"How's Thunderclan these past moons?" Russetfur asked, her gaze towards the sky

"Living, I can assume the same for Shadowclan"

Blackfoot nodded stiffly

Russetfur glanced at Icebelly "How are you and the 'things'"

Icebelly snapped his head towards Blackfoot "You son of a-"

"I figured it out for myself cousin" Russetfur cut in, she turned away her gaze again "Relax"

"Hard to if your leader ever finds out"

"We know" Blackfoot and Russetfur said in unison

"Icebelly" Lakepaw's purr made Icebelly's heart melt

"Hey Lakepaw, how's training been so far?"

"Great Voleclaw's an awesome mentor. So is Whiteclaw for Condorpaw though he's stuck at camp for an injury" she mewed, she glanced at Blackfoot and Russetfur "Who are you two?"

"None of your fu-" Blackfoot replied but was cut off by Russetfur "I'm Russetfur and the masked frog-brain is Blackfoot"

Thunderclan has been doing well. We have two new warriors with us: Graystripe and Cranewing"

"Graystripe Graystripe Cranewing Cranewing" Thunderclan cheered

"Goldenflower and Frostbite have moved into the nursery and will kit any day now, that is all" Bluestar mewed stepping back and letting Stormstar take her place.

"Riverclan has been doing well these past moons" Stormstar mewed "We have a new warrior this evening, Flamepaw has gotten her warrior name in Flameshell"

"Flameshell Flameshell" Icebelly heard the Riverclan warriors cheer. "Flameshell" he chanted and he gazed around for Moonclaw but he didn't see her.

"Suneyes has recently given birth to her second litter, the kits are named Whirlkit, Flarekit, and Shinekit, Skyeyes also had a litter of four sired by Stonefur: Blackkit, Coalkit, Pikekit, and Dogkit, Sootwhisker has given to birth to three kits: Shellkit, Hailkit, and Mosskit. Mallowtail has given birth to her third litter with Frogleap: Gullkit. Dawnscale had a litter of two named: Mink-kit and Garkit as well as Swanlight is expecting her third litter with Reedtail and Mistyfoot's expecting their first litter with Mudbelly and Leopardclaw's kits"

Icebelly raised an eyebrow

"Mistyfoot's using they/them now" Lakepaw answered "Seaweedpaw helped spread it around camp and it all worked out by sunhigh"

"Stormstar loves me lots to name his kit after me" Mossthorn purred a few paces away

"He adopted you front of Thistleclaw's face Moss" Stonefur added

"Exactly, loves me lots"

The gray tabby stepped back and let Duskstar step forward.

"Windclan also has been doing well. We have two new warriors in Runningbrook and Webfoot this night"

"Runningbrook Runningbrook Webfoot Webfoot" The Windclan cats cheered

"Marigoldwing has moved into the nursery expecting Bristleclaw's kits. Appledawn, Rabbit-tail, and Sorrelflight are expecting litters as well. Wrenflight has given birth to a litter of three: Harekit, Dandalionkit, and Poppykit, Thrushwing has given birth to a litter of two: Stonekit and Lark-kit, Aspenfall also has given birth to a litter of two: Cypresskit and Tumblekit"

"Congrats Cloudrunner" Icebelly heard Petalstream purr

"Thanks"

"Tawnykit, Rushkit, Ryekit, Robinkit, Eaglekit, Marblekit, and Thornkit were apprenticed" Duskstar continued "Tawnypaw is Barkface's apprentice training as a seer, Rushpaw is mentored by Mudclaw, Ryepaw is mentored by Deadfoot, Robinpaw is mentored by Marigoldwing, Eaglepaw is mentored by Cloudrunner, Marblepaw is mentored by Runningbrook, and Thornpaw is mentored by Woolcloud"

Duskstar was stepping back but Brokenstar made a petty shove past him.

"Shadowclan has good and bad news to share" Brokenstar mewed, his sorrow was so fake Icebelly nearly gagged "Shadowclan welcomes Amberfoot's kits: Slatekit and Sootkit. We have new members in Pineshadow and Crowcloud along with the kits they carry. Whitethroat has had his third litter in Hollylock-kit and Dark-kit. Blackfoot found a kitten abandoned and alone near twolegplace and Shadowclan has named the kit Graykit and taken her in under Fernshade's care" He spoke like he cared about these lives "We have a new apprentice: Buzzardpaw mentored by Clawface" Brokenstar hung his head "The bad news is that Ash-heart and Dappleclaw were killed by a dog, Dappleclaw weakened from birthing her daughter Beetlekit but the dog has since been chased out"

"If there is no more news then-" Bluestar was cut off by Brokenstar

"Now now Bluestar, what's the rush?" he mewed, seeming innocent "There's still moonlight. Why not stick around for a while longer before we return to our camps"

'Considering the last time we weren't at camp' Icebelly thought with anger. He glanced at Bluestar who glanced at Redtail. The deputy nodded to her.

The other leaders hesitated but agreed. Bluestar jumped from the great rock and padded over to Stonefur, Willowheart, Minnowpool, Silverstream, and Mistyfoot with Stormstar in tow. He spotted Redtail slowly leaving the clearing. Duskstar and Brokenstar stayed on the rock but Duskstar stayed far away from the dark tabby.

"We'll be off" Russetfur mewed "Things could get tense, come on Blackfoot"

The two Shadows padded over mixed in with their clan mates

"Lakepaw!" Voleclaw called "Come here, it's important"

"Coming" she replied, she quickly nuzzled Icebelly "See ya big brother"

"All alone" he grumbled "Might as well see Thornpaw and Marblepaw" He padded over to the Windclan section, trying not to step on cats paws.

"Marblepaw! Thornpaw!" he called

"Uncle" Marblepaw purred as she padded over "I'm so glad you're here"

"Made this night better;" Thornpaw muttered "not with Luna"

"Why?"

Marblepaw shifted her paws "Mother's left the clan"

Icebelly's eyes widened in shock "What? I though she said she'd leave when you got your warrior names"

"Mother wasn't happy" Thornpaw shrugged, his green eyes staring at the ground "Who were we to stop her?"

"When did she leave?"

"A few days ago, said she wanted to go back home" Marblepaw replied "She asked us if we wanted to join her but we like Windclan and Grandpa Juniper, Bark, and Dusk"

Icebelly let a chuckle "I'm glad you two are doing okay all things considered"

Thornpaw puffed out his fluffy chest "Of course, we'll be the best Windclan warriors ever"

"Runningbrook's great as a mentor" Marblepaw mewed "We'll be warriors in no time"

"I'm sure you will"

"Better than being a snotty apprentice like Tawnypaw Thornpaw added "Every since she got apprentice, Tawnypaw has been bossing the rest of us around"

"Marblepaw come here, I want to show you to my cousin Frogleap" Runningbrook called, xyr eyes gleamed with excitement "He's fine I promise"

"Coming" Marblepaw padded over to her mentor

"I'll go find Eaglepaw and Rushpaw" Thornpaw mewed, he nuzzled Icebelly quickly "See you around Uncle"

He waved to Thornpaw as he left.

'Damn it Luna' he thought 'would've been kind to tell me before you fucked off'

He started to drift into the coward, no real direction in sight. He didn't want to talk with anyone at this point, least of all Dewflare but fate likes to fuck with him.

"Icebelly" Dewflare mewed sweetly "Long time no see" her smile comforted him like a fox looking at a rabbit

"Not long enough" they replied coldly, if he wasn't expecting he'd have no problem causing a scene but he didn't want Dewflare knowing about these kits.

"Icebelly" he saw Roachpaw and Flypaw approach him

"Hey guys" he replied, still guarded "How's training?"

"Great" Flypaw purred "We'll be better than Copperpaw was"

Icebelly cocked their head "Was?"

"We're not weak like Copperpaw" Roachpaw sneered "We're not afraid to kill unlike Copperpaw who couldn't handle some rats"

"We won't back away from battle" Flypaw boasted "Then Brokenstar will have to make us warriors just like Badgerfang and Pinetail. He's already talking about it"

Icebelly keeps his face neutral to hide his disgust and horror. He met Dewflare's gaze head on, he found nothing in her amber eyes except bloodlust.

-Flashback ends-

It was easy to ignore the problem then get involved but Icebelly knew he'd have to do something. It wasn't just because of the star's plan but his own feelings as well. Goosefeather told him it was their own choice but.

He did his best to keep breathing, to not fall asleep. It hurt so much. Like he was being ripped in two.

"Keep going kit" Icebelly snapped out of his thoughts "You have a long way to go"

"Yellowfang" he whimpered "It hurts"

She started grooming him "I know but it's worth it" she rested a paw on his belly "push Icebelly"

He did and he screeched "It feels like I'm on fire"

A tiny wail made his heart melt

"You have a son" Yellowfang mewed "Loud voice" she started feeling his belly again "I think you'll have four or five more"

"Fuck why?" he groaned, the pains becoming more sharper as time passed

"Seems the stars have blessed you"

"or cursed me" Icebelly snapped back, he gasped as another wave of pain flooded him

"Push" Yellowfang said "I can see the head"

Icebelly yowled but was quickly shushed with Yellowfang's tail in his mouth. It bit into it in pain, Yellowfang was completely unfazed.

"...A molly" Yellowfang mewed "Keep going I see another"

He felt his paw spasm and he used the other to grip Yellowfang's tail tightly.

"Another molly, push again, I see another head"

Icebelly felt like his body was on fire. He whimpered through Yellowfang's tail.

"Molly, four kits so far" Yellowfang rubbed his belly "Three more I expect"

Icebelly hissed at that

"I'm always told that house cats have big litters didn't think it was true until now"

"I was never a housecat, Dewflare was" he spat "I lived on the streets, my life was never easy like others think it was, I fought for prey and shelter just like they do everyday but does it matter-" he was cut off by another crash of pain and Yellowfang told him to push once more

"Two slipped out" Yellowfang commented "One more to go"

Icebelly was panting, his sides aching and they felt like they were going to die. Yellowfang's tail moved a bit and his eyes fluttered open. "Now falling asleep until this done Icebelly, stay strong"

Icebelly could do nothing but pant and lash his tail. A sharp pain made him shoot up and yowl.

"Push, real hard. The kit is a little stuck. Push Icebelly"

Icebelly pushed with all he had, which wasn't a lot at this point. The snow was finally getting to his pelt and he was starting to shiver.

"Seven kits, a tom and six mollies. Congrats kit"

/

It had only been a week since the birth of his kits and just the thought of them gave him strength to hunt, maybe even fighter better if Thymeroot would let him. He was already a good fighter to begin with though, his own knowledge of fighting as well as Tiger-roar, Bluestar, and even Swanlight's methods helped as well.

Thymeroot really advised them not to go out but Icebelly couldn't stand to watch his clan starve when he knew of a place to get prey. Cinderpaw's training was being taken over by Bluestar at the moment and he just needed to do something.

He headed back to camp with five fat mice and a squirrel. It was his most impressive catch since winter had begun. He had been hunting in twolegplace for a while now, the gardens had been filled with prey to hunt. Chocolate's advice as well as Oliver helping at times worked well for him. He had tracked down Luna yesterday, more like tackled her to the ground. Didn't resolve much, they got into a fight would've gotten more physical if not for Scourge and Brick stepping in:

-Flashback-

"Nothing's changed with you two" Scourge had drawled. Her ice-blue eyes had held nothing but resigned annoyance

"You're surprised by that?" Icebelly retorted

"Not as much as I should be" Scourge replied

"At least you having kits didn't put you outta practice Splinter" Luna commented

"Could say the same with you for the kits you left high and dry"

Luna bared her teeth "They wanted to stay, it was too late to drag them away"

"That sounds like a you problem"

"Shut it both of you" Scourge ordered

"Nah love" Brick mewed, their ginger tail flicking with amusement "Let em go"

"You all make me question my sanity damnit" Scourge groaned

"You're the one who went gender is weird ago" Tommy butted in "Didn't feel right"

"It didn't for me on some level Tommy" Scourge looked ready to cuff him over the ears "I'm partly a molly and the rest is nothing"

"Looks like I didn't really miss much" Icebelly rolled his eyes

"Oh you missed Scourge screeching bloody murder during their kitting"

"You had kits?!" Icebelly's jaw dropped in shock

"Is it that surprising that I did?"

"Yes"

"Mama" a small voice squeaked "Who's that?"

Icebelly cocked his head to see five kits "I'm your uncle" he purred

Scourge sighed "Splinter meet Rook, Quince, Smoke, Jackel, and Leo"

-Flashback ends-

He didn't think his catch was that impressive to others but he guessed wrong when Nightshade went wide-eyed on his catch. The large black molly dropped the pitiful bone from her mouth when she saw his kills.

"Where in the name of Thunderstar's cry did you catch those?" Nightshade nearly screeched. Cats saw the prey and looked at it with greed.

"I caught them in Thunderclan territory?" he lied, and what others didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Though he was allowed to hunt there he didn't know how his clanmates would react. Thunderclan pride was strong in some of them.

"Where? my patrol only found one small mouse and Ebonypaw only barely managed to catch it" Miststrike mewed from beside her sister "Anything else has been too skinny or to sick to eat"

"Uh by the owl tree, I was probably lucky" Icebelly replied

"I'll note to send hunting patrols around the Owl tree for a while" Redtail stated "You should rest Icebelly"

"I feel fine and Brindleface said they were fine watching my kits"

"Did you feed them?"

"Before I left, I wasn't gone long"

"Icebelly I know you want to help however you are a new father, rest and spend time with your kits"

Redtail's words held more meaning and Icebelly knew it. Pouncepaw and Amberpaw had fallen ill with greencough, it didn't look good for either of them.

"Have you named them yet?"

Icebelly shook his head "I have two moons to decide, I was going to let the kits show themselves before I did"

Redtail chuckled "That's why I got Red- for maple leaves"

"It was night when I was born and the crazed seer at the time loved his poisons " Nightshade eyed his kills, her mouth parted "Drop some of those for us while you're at it"

"Nightshade" Redtail warned "Control yourself"

Icebelly could see for a rare moment, Nightshade allowed herself to be more open. Her eyes displayed her hunger and desire for food. She took a quick breath and her green eyes once again were guarded "Yes Redtail" she stood up "I'll hunt near the Owl tree right now if I may"

Miststrike padded up to her sister "I'll join you, let's see if we can find Tiger and Mom"

Redtail nodded to two "Go ahead" he turned his head back to Icebelly "Nursery now, I'll take three mice, take the rest to the nursery"

"Yes sir"

Icebelly nodded, as he padded to the nursery he saw some of his clanmates namely Darkstripe glare at him. Their ribs were visible and their eyes looked a little crazed with hunger. He wondered if they would start fighting each other for food. Despite his best efforts, Oakpaw is easy to read. He told them about how everyone was fighting for a piece back in Shadowclan.

He padded into the nursery, he didn't have to look too far for Brindleface who was close to the entrance.

He nuzzled his kits "How were they?"

"Squirmy" Brindleface sighed "As they are at this state"

Icebelly pulled the kits close to his belly, three of the mollies quickly latched and began to nurse.

"Sorry I dumped them on you today"

"It's fine, I know the feeling of wanting to move around" Brindleface replied "Any names for them yet?"

Icebelly glanced and took a good look at his kits "I'm not too sure honestly"

"Certainly you won't name them without me" Icebelly of course had to be reminded who the clan thought the sire was for all seven of these kits. Chestnutclaw looked fresh from patrol, a battle one from the sight of cobwebs and marigold on his leg.

"You want to be involved?" Icebelly replied dryly

"But of course, they're not just your kits Icebelly"

"How I wish that was the case"

Brindleface gave Icebelly a concerned look but Icebelly reassured them with a soft paw to the shoulder. "I'll be over there" they mewed, herding their kits "Call if you need help, Frostbite and Goldenflower will be back soon anyway" they quickly whispered as they padded to the other side of the den.

Without really looking at him, Icebelly motioned for Chestnutclaw to come forward. The reddish-brown tom sat a few meters from him but was able to see the kits.

"Have any name ideas?" Icebelly asked dully "I haven't really got much"

"Why didn't you name them when they were born?"

"I'm allowed to wait for two moons at least" he mewed

He watched the larger tom gaze over the kits intently, his gaze was mostly centered over the two biggest kits of the litter so far it caused him to stare at them himself. The tom was a pure white just like him and the molly was a copy of Chestnutclaw. He glanced at the others, the second molly appearance almost made him flinch, she looked very similar to Brokenstar except her pelt was lighter and more grayish.

'Did Yellowfang realize?' he thought with horror 'Starclan help me'

The third molly was a ginger point just like Cherrycloud. The fourth was a ginger tabby molly, her stripes reminded him of Blazefang.

'At least I can tell who sired who' he thought

The fifth molly was a dark brown tabby as well but her pelt was darker than her sister's tabby pelt, the sixth molly was a tortoiseshell and white, the seventh molly, the runt was a gray tabby, a darker tone than what Rosetail had.

"This molly is the biggest of her sisters" he touched the kitten softly, which was shocking "She should have a strong name, maybe after her kin"

"Name her after your mother and I'll rip your throat out" Icebelly stated bluntly. He'd be damned if he let one of his kits share a name with that bitch. He should be glad he wouldn't have to share a den with her but Robinwing made it known she was expecting another litter.

Hearing a chuckle from Chestnutclaw felt so unnatural on many levels especially when he wasn't laughing at someone else.

"I was thinking of Rosekit for my copy since it would match her pelt however since you said that-"

"I meant Robinwing and you know it" He licked the molly "Rosekit is fine"

"What about the tom?"

Icebelly gazed at his son, he was so soft against his fur. Soft like a cloud. "Cloudkit"

"What?"

"I want my son to be named Cloudkit"

Chestnutclaw gazed at the tom then shrugged "I have nothing better"

///////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Little bastards" Whitethroat muttered. He still felt the stinging bites of the vile rodents on his pelt, he honestly refused to get them treated until Littlecloud begged him for his kits. He had been pretty distant from his kits since their birth, he just didn't feel the sudden bond that he was supposed to feel, it was the same with Hollowheart and Burdockpaw. Darkflower and Poppyflower took turns watching them but they did tell him he needed to step up before they were old enough to know what was happening.

It was hard though, he wanted to be there but he just...he didn't know how he felt at this point.

He didn't feel the pain as much anymore. Was it the beatings he got from Mossclaw or was it how his mind felt broken from Brokenstar and Dewflare's words?

He knew he wasn't fixable, that much was certain. He was nothing but a whore made for breeding or a worthless pelt for battles.

Shadowclan felt dead from the inside out. Nothing really mattered to Whitethroat at this point.

He saw Lizardstripe and Mudfoot spit of Adderpaw's body when they didn't survive Mudfoot's torture. Badgerfang and Wetfoot soon tore into the young cat's body like bees took to honey.

He saw Badgerfang tear into Newtspeck, the center of camp still smelled like her blood. Whitethroat didn't so much as shiver when the light left her eyes. He was too busy ripping one of her legs off to care. Not like Poppyflower or Appletooth cared or could afford to.

He didn't bat an eye when he watched Mossclaw force Hollylock-kit on his member and quickly followed with Dark-kit. Maybe it was his fear or how numb he was to it at this point. It was probably the numbness when Mossclaw fucked him when he was done with the kits.

Being here didn't bring anything other than pain or emptiness.

"So do we do Whitethroat?" Batpaw asked "Why are we at Carrionplace?"

Whitethroat took the catmint he stored in his tail and inhaled it. Palecloud, Beepaw, and Blossompaw were too busy helping a bleeding out Tangleburr to notice him snatching the catmint. That was as much escape as he could get.

"To watch the little fuck bags and kill a few for diner" he replied, his ear twitching as a fly landed on it then flew away. His tail-tip started flicking as snowflakes started falling.

Batpaw looked a little frightened, the fur on her back began to rise. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No but Brokenstar told me I had to bring you here, I don't know why we couldn't just patrol the territory like Sootmask is doing with Pricklepaw or battle train like Viperfang is doing with Muddypaw but whatever our darling leader says goes I guess" the words were just pouring out of him like blood.

That's what it was anyway. Blood everywhere he stepped, no matter where he went.

Batpaw took that answer and shut her jaw.

"Crouch like I showed you then when one of those little fuckers is close pounce" Whitethroat advised

Batpaw knew how to follow orders and follow them well. She caught three so far. "Good, you won't starve" Whitethroat purred. It felt weird doing that after so long.

"What do you mean?"

"You know how to hunt Batpaw, most of the cats in Shadowclan don't know how to from Brokenstar's rant on "We need all our energy for battle and hunting is useless"

Batpaw swiped at another rat "If he says hunting is useless then why are we hunting?"

Whitethroat decided to let the fox loose from the den "I lied about Brokenstar sending us here, we were suppose to tour the territory and teach you about mating, the queens need to eat"

"Mating like what Blossompaw does with Brokenstar!" Batpaw freaked out "But what about Brokenstar or Clawface or Nutwhisker?"

Whitethroat laughed "I don't give a shit Batpaw, the clan can't survive on crowfood alone so we are bringing some prey that won't come back up, it's leaf-bare Batpaw we need as much prey as we can get"

Batpaw looked concerned at Whitethroat "Are you okay? in the head I mean"

Whitethroat snorted another of the catmint "After everything" he laughed "I'm fucking great Batpaw thanks for asking"

/

The hunting went well. Nine rats to show for it. The queens were pleased with the catches while Brokenstar was not, he could see the leader seething Dewflare and Muddywater seemed to be trying to calm him down.

"Are Rowankit and Cedarkit healthy?" he asked, ignoring the glare he was getting.

"So far yes" Russetfur replied, Darkflower mumbled something in her ear and rested her head in the small of Russetfur's back "Lavenderkit has a cut and Nightkit has a bellyache"

Blackfoot and Russetfur getting paired to have kits was an interesting combination. Honestly Russetfur was probably the only molly Blackfoot would ever want to mate with.

He knew Brokenstar didn't want anything with Darkflower since Sharp-paw's birth; she had Scorchfang's kits once again. Dawncloud had another litter already: Ratkit and Snowkit but he had no idea who the sire was. All Dawncloud said was that it wasn't anyone in Shadowclan.

"I'll get some willow" Blossompaw mewed, starting to walk out "Palecloud just got a fresh batch and Beepaw found more marigold"

"How's Sharp-paw?" Russetfur asked

"Alive" he replied bluntly

"Um Whitethroat?"

"What?"

"Come outside" Blossompaw mewed

"I'll watch Hollylock and Dark" Crowcloud mewed

Crowcloud had been watching his kits while she waited for her kits to come. Whitethroat had gotten close with Pineshadow and Crowcloud since they came. It felt nice to be in a genuine embrace rather than one from sex.

"Umm why does Brokenstar look like he's going to rip your throat out?" Sootmask asked, Duskthorn and Frogtail look just as unsettled.

"What happened" Duskthorn asked

{What did you do!?} Frogtail signed frantically

Whitethroat let out a laugh "Does it matter?"

"Not really" Blossompaw replied "You're getting it now"

"Whitethroat" the loud yell made the apprentices jump. Lizardpaw looked scared to death, Dirtpaw tried hiding her fear while Batpaw hid behind Whitethroat.

Whitethroat rolled his eyes "Batpaw go to Houndbelly, she'll want help with your brothers" he ordered "The rest of you go find your mothers"

"Yes Whitethroat" Batpaw was gone like a light. The other apprentices didn't need to be told twice, running with their tails between their legs.

As soon as they left, Brokenstar let all hell break loose.

"You hunted when I wanted Batpaw to tour the territory and teach her place in mating" Brokenstar bared his yellow teeth "Do you have a death wish?"

"Yep" Whitethroat could feel the catmint high going down, he didn't care though.

Brokenstar struck his left cheek "Frogbrain" he snarled

"I know what you are but what am I?" he replied, licking the blood as it fell to his mouth. He had a taste for blood he was trying to break but it was hard when it spilled all around him. Didn't help what he was fed most of the time.

Brokenstar shoved him to the ground, claws digging into his chest. His clanmates were either watching or didn't care and did their own things. He saw Badgerfang, Littlecloud, and Wetfoot staring at this exchange.

"I should kill you right now" Brokenstar growled, increasing the pressure on his chest

"Nothing's stopping you uncle" Whitethroat mewed, laying his head on the ground staring at the night sky "Yellowfang's in Thunderclan, Palecloud is one of your many punching bags, Beepaw is your obedient little shit, Dewflare does anything she can to make our lives miserable, Blossompaw loves you for fucked reasons, you broke Marshshadow's leg, half-blinded Blazefang because neither of them wanted to mate with you and Raggedstar's dead and gone but she would always bend herself over for you, I'm at your will"

Brokenstar looked shocked that Whitethroat phrased everything like that. Brokenstar dug his claws further in his chest, brought Whitethroat up then smashed him back onto the ground.

"You're as weak and foolish as your father Whitethroat you know that"

"He was better than you so that's a compliment"

Brokenstar struck him on his other cheek. Whitethroat thought his eyes would burn in flames from the fire that sparked in there.

Brokenstar got off him and padded to the high branch. "All cats gather round, I have new orders in place"

Whitethroat felt Wetfoot and Badgerfang pushing him to stand. "What were you thinking?" Wetfoot hissed

"Finally being free" Death didn't seem like a bad option anymore. His blood spilling in the camp didn't seem all that bad. He wanted it to spill everywhere.

"Go to the nursery" Badgerfang ordered, his voice barely holding any emotion anymore. He was a killing machine by Brokenstar's design. "So you don't embarrass yourself further"

"No no I want to know what foxdung his spewing now" Whitethroat shoved them away from him "I want to hear it"

"It's not going to be good" Wetfoot mewed

"No shit"

"Attention everyone" Brokenstar began "It seems mating and kit stock is decreasing lately" Cats looked confused at his words but Whitethroat could take a very good guess of what he meant.

"I want pregnancies to be consistent" Brokenstar continued "However my warriors have expressed they want some relief" he smirked wickedly "All mollies who aren't expecting, I ask you to: line up in two opposite lines, face down and ass up"

'Ask?' Whitethroat mentally scoffed 'I see demand'

The elite started shoving mollies into the center, he was no different. The hisses and mews made his head hurt, he covered his face and ears with his paws. He had been too wrapped in the senses to prepare himself when he felt someone shove his tail upwards and plunged into him.

It surprisingly shocked him how his body would still respond to this act. He thought was numb there at this point.

"Oh Whitethroat, our third litter will be glorious" Mossclaw groaned

"Mossclaw deal with her later" Brokenstar called "Want to fuck Marshshadow's face?"

"I'll take Marshshadow's jaw over Bigteeth any day" Mossclaw pulled out of Whitethroat quickly bounded over to where Marshshadow was being held down by Brokenstar.

"I can show you Bigteeth mother-" her mouth was covered by Dewflare.

"No insulting your superiors Blazefang" The tortie mewed "Expecting mollies should not test others"

"Go fuck yourself"

"Rat duty, let's put those teeth to work" Dewflare ordered "Now!"

"Better than being here" Blazefang walked off but not before turning back to Whitethroat "Coming?"

Whitethroat didn't even hesitate to agree.

[kaitycole]

Madeleine x Leo (ARM Stand Alone)

Summary: This wraps up the storyline for Madeleine x Leo storyline in A Royal Mess

**This is the last stand alone for the A Royal Mess universe**

Word Count: 2108

Pairing: Madeleine x Leo (past tense), Madeleine x Nash, Katie x Leo (past tense)

Rating: Angst, longing, closure

Tag List: @chiarace  @grimalkjn  @jyreusser85@hopefulmoonobject​ @enmchoices  @indiacater @captain-kingliamsqueen  @katurrade​ @darley1101  @zilch3@sleeplessescapades  @bobasheebaby​ @mrsdrakewalkerblog​ @lynn1214  @umccall71  @drakelover78​ @thequeenchoices   @stopforamoment @lauradowning29​ @lodberg​ 

Madeleine walks over to the hedge maze, seeing Leo and the twins over there. She hasn’t seen Leo in months. She smiles, seeing what the press has been talking about, that Leo acts lighter, that he’s happier since his divorce.

           She’s been meaning to come see him since she’s returned from Turkey, but between the various tabloid stories and her recent test results, time slipped passed her.

           It’s Caroline that sees her first and takes off running towards her. Her light brown curls bounce as the space between them close. Much to Katie’s dismay, it didn’t matter how many dresses you put Caroline in, she was determined to be outside with her dad and brother.

           She throws herself around Madeleine’s waist, “Aunt Madi! I missed you!”

           She looks down at the young girl, smiling brightly, “I missed you too Care. You can just call me Madi now.”

           “Oh yeah,” she kicks a rock, “But I like you better than Aunt Riley.”

           Madeleine shakes her head, “Hey now, you have to give her a chance. I’m not going anyway babes.”

           “Promise?”

           “Promise!”

           Caroline practically drags Madi over to her father and brother, “Daddy! Noah! Look who I have!”

           Leo snaps his head up and towards her before he looks back down. His heart begins to pound against his ribcage. He wasn’t sure where they stood; they had a moment before Asher was born and then she ran off to some exotic place and met some exotic guy. She’d been back for nearly two months and had rarely left Fydelia.

           “Aunt Madi!” Noah runs over to her, hugging her tightly.

           “It’s just Madi now, duh.”

           “Oh. But you’re still come over right? Especially to our new house?”

           “New house?”

           Leo finally looks up, making eye contact with Madi. “Liam was saying that some of the old duchies could use revamping. So, you’re looking at the newest Duke of Mirandola,” he shrugs.

           “And I’m the newest Lord!” Noah cheers.

           “And I’m Lady Caroline,” she flips her hair off her shoulder, causing Madi to giggle.

           “Can I speak to your dad alone, please?”

           The twins hug her once again before running off into the maze to play. Leo gestures towards a nearby bench, both taking one side of the bench, leaving space between. There’s something different about her, but he can’t put his finger on it.

           “How was your trip?” He looks away, “Seemed like you had a good time.”

           “It was…” she pauses, chewing her bottom lip, “needed. I just needed to get away from everything.”

           “To get away from me as well?”

           “Leo,” she wants to place her hand on his knee, but hesitates.

           “I came back and you were gone, Madi.” He stands up, running his hands through his hair, “I thought…I thought we had a moment.”

           “We did, but,” she discreetly rubs her belly, “It’s just wasn’t enough.”

           He knows that in a minute she’ll come up behind him and hug him. She always did, no matter how they were going to end up leaving things. Just like it would always be his job to protect her, even if it was from himself, it would always be her job to heal him. When her arms finally wrap around him, he lets the tears fall down his face, finally realizing what exactly it is that he’s losing. His soulmate. His true love. His better half.

           “I love you, Madeleine,” he turns around, placing his arms around her waist.

           “I love you, Leo.”

           “I’ll never stop loving you,” he places a soft kiss on her forehead.

           “I know.”

           She wipes the tears from his cheeks, her heart breaking knowing this isn’t completely what she wants, but it’s exactly what she needs.

*                      *

           It’s a busy day at Mirandola, not only has Lord Noah just gotten married, but Duke Leo is stepping down. Giving his son the title of Duke to take the country through a new leadership. Leo has been running the small nation for the last twenty years, starting just months after he and Katie’s divorce finalized. Through his leadership, this small nation started to thrive again, gaining not only redemption in Cordonia’s eyes, but also his brother’s; the one who he wanted to prove himself to the most.

           “Feeling old yet?” Liam pats his brother’s shoulder, “Your oldest just got married, is taking over the duchy, going to start a family.”

           “Do you, brother? Isn’t Eleanor’s social season coming up? Remember how you and Riley were?” Leo teases back.

           “I can’t believe she’s already twenty-two, seems like yesterday she was squeezing my finger for the first time.” He pauses, “And Lilly will be twenty shortly.”

           “When did they grow up so fast?” Leo looks over at his daughter, Caroline. She looks more and more like her mother every day, but she has his drive, his passion for life. Noah decided to engage in the royal lifestyle, he spent his college years with his Uncle Liam learning the ins and outs of international relations. Caroline however wanted to use her status to help instead of lead; Leo watched her get involved in Animal rights, women’s rights and fighting for equality for all.

           Due to his duties, Noah ended up meeting the daughter of a French diplomat. Noah and Yvette were the ideal power couple, Leo knew he was leaving Mirandola in great hands. Yvette instantly grew close to Caroline, helping her make ways in her causes as well as becoming adored by Mirandola.

           “Can you believe just yesterday he wanted to play pirates and eat chocolate pudding for every meal?” a soft and familiar voice says.

           “And the only girl he’d hug was Caroline because all the others had cooties.”

           Katie leans her head on Leo’s shoulder as they look over at the newly wedded couple. They have had their differences throughout the years, but this moment could only be shared between the two of them. Watching one of the reminders of their once love, being with the woman he loved.

           “We did a decent job with the twins, ya know? It wasn’t how we expected, but still.”

           Leo smiles, watching Caroline and Noah walk over to them, “Yes, yes we did.”

*                      *

           The festivities are coming to an end, everyone being retiring to their rooms in the duchy.

           Katie and Damien walk down the halls with their children; Asher, Eli and Wyatt, the twins and Rosie. Liam and Riley along with their daughters, Eleanor and Lilly make their way to their room, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to spend a few nights away from the palace. Liam knew Leo would need his family around. Noah escorts Yvette to their town car, their honeymoon awaiting them.

           Leo sighs, for the last twenty years he’s dedicated all his time to the small nation of people he ruled over as well as his two children. But on nights like tonight, having that one person to talk to wouldn’t hurt.

           “Daddy! There you are!” Caroline slides next to Leo on the balcony.

           “Hey sweetie, what are you up to?” He drapes his arm around her, pulling her close to him.

           She cuddles close to him, she’s missed her father. With her busy schedule, she’s not at home much anymore which is hard for her, she’s a huge daddy’s girl.

           “I was just checking up on you.”

           He chuckles, “Isn’t that my job?”

           She shrugs, “It’s just…well, you never dated after mom. I figured tonight might be hard.”

           He looks at his daughter, trying to figure out when she got as wise as she was. She wasn’t wrong, it was hard seeing so many couples and not being one. When he first started ruling Mirandola, he attempted to date. He even let Liam try to set him up a few times, but they just wanted to say they’d be with the abdicated crown prince. He knew he brought this upon himself, the playboy reputation, he just wished people could let that reputation mature like he has.

           “I wouldn’t change anything about my life, Care. I had a wild youth before you and your brother. More adventure in those years than most get in a lifetime.”

           “Was mom your soulmate?”

           He smirks, “I loved your mother very much, I still do have love for her. But no, she wasn’t my soulmate. I found mine, a long, long time ago, but the thing about soulmates is sometimes you realize they’re your soulmate too late.”

           “I just don’t want you to be lonely.”

           “I have you and your brother. He and Yvette will bring me grandbabies. Maybe you too one day. I’m far from lonely, my dear.” He presses a kiss to her temple.

           “Well…then you won’t be mad that I invited someone to come see you.” She motions for someone to join them and Leo’s heart stops when he sees her, “I’ll give you some time alone.”

           The years have barely touched her, just a few wrinkles from motherhood rest on her skin. She looks absolutely stunning to Leo.

           “I hope you don’t mind Caroline invited me.”

           “No, not at all. You…you look amazing.”

           “Thank you,” blush colors her fair skin, “You look good as well.”

           “Let’s go in and sit,” he motions her inside.

           “Do you mind if we sit outside?”

           “After you.”

           The pair walk through the ballroom before exiting into the small garden area of the duchy. There’s a small pond with a bench nearby that they sit on.

           “How have you been? How’s Lark?” Leo found out about Madeleine’s pregnancy the same way the rest of Cordonia did: the news. Through the years part of him wanted her to come to him, to let him help raise the little girl. She had tried to make it work with Nash, they had been married for almost ten years, but neither could give up their lifestyles and soon their fantasy fell apart. Lark spent her summers in Turkey with her father and the rest of her time in Fydelia with her mother.

           After her marriage ended, she stayed out of the court’s spotlight. She helped Liam and Riley with Valtoria and stayed on as their PR correspondent. She made a very nice life for herself and Lark, without the help of her father.

           “Growing up far too quickly,” she smiles, “I can’t believe she’s nineteen. She wants to move to England, I don’t think I’m ready.”

           “You did an amazing job raising her, Madi.”

           Her heart flutters, it’s been years since she’s heard that nickname. “You did as well, with the twins.”

           They sit in silence; the sound of crickets fills the air around them. It’s not an awkward silence, but the kind you have when you are comfortable with someone. Madeleine looks down at her watch, realizing its later than she thought.

           “I should be going now,” she begins to stand up.

           “Stay.” The word wraps around her like a weight, pulling her back down.

           Suddenly she’s panicked, how many times should this word have been said? How many times would it have prevented heartbreak if either of them had simply just said it. He had wanted to say this to her all those years ago, when he first told her about Mirandola, but something about her told him not to. She wanted to tell him that a lifetime ago when she found out she was pregnant right before he abdicated, but she couldn’t.

           They spent several lifetimes apart from each other. Maybe it was time to try, time to stop pushing life before each other. They have both lived their lives without each other, raised their children, now it was time to be selfish.

           “Leo,” she says, breaking the silence. He cups her cheek in his hand and pulls her chin up to him.

           “Madi.”

           She struggles to catch her breath, feeling intoxicated by his touch. He presses his lips to her, a familiar feeling that entraps her. Her lips move against him without thought, falling in sync with him effortlessly. The kiss deepens as she pushes herself into his chest, her arms wrapping around his neck. He picks her up, straddling her over his lap as he kisses down her neck. Her face burns with heat, the two falling into each other as if no time has passed.

           “I never stopped loving you, Madi.” Leo says, pressing his forehead to her chest.

           “I know.”

           “Will you stay, please?” His voice cracks, “I’ve tried for years to be without Madi, I don’t know if I can keep it up.”

           She places her hands on his cheeks, wiping the tears that fall.

           “Then don’t, I’m not going anywhere this time around.”

[d3-iseefire]

Writing Wednesday

Prompt idea from @strictlynofrills​ asking for a “It’s A Wonderful Life” style idea where Bilba is feeling down and gets shown what would have happened had she not gone on the quest. I decided to take it in a biiiiit of a different direction but I think it’s still the same idea! :D

Extra Note: I got the idea for this version of Mahal from my beta Drenagon’s story “History Teaches Us” found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127568/chapters/2273724. I highly recommend it if you want a really good fic where Thorin is sent back to try again and get it right! :D

Bilba stood at the edge of a broken path, darkness stretching away beneath her feet, and slumped in defeat. Rain from the earlier storm pattered on her head, sending cold rivulets sliding down the collar of her dress.

Her entire body felt like ice, but not enough to numb the pain in her feet because she hadn’t considered they might not be designed to trek through mountains full of sharp rock and bitterly cold ice.

She was miserable and now she was stuck out here being rained on because she was too stupid to remember the path was gone.

Seriously, it had been like a half hour ago, and she’d been there. She’d watched the stone giants fighting, had nearly been killed by them for Yavanna’s sake and yet, here she was, like an idiot thinking the path was going to just miraculously put itself back so she could trek down it.

Words ran through her mind, as biting in memory as they had been when she’d heard them out loud.

“She’s been lost ever since she left home. You should never have come. You have no place among us.”

Bilba flinched and clenched her jaw as pressure built between her eyes. Wouldn’t that just be wonderful, if they were to come out and see her weeping in the rain?

What had she been thinking? That she was off on a lark? That she’d skip along picking flowers and stopping for picnics along the way? For Yavanna’s sake, she’d worn a dress. No wonder Thorin thought so little of her. She’d given him more than enough cause.

Kili’s face floated through her mind and she closed her eyes and bit back a groan. She could still remember her excitement running out the door of Bag Eng, fantasies of love and adventure filling her head.

She’d had visions of riding next to Kili and entertaining him with witty dialogue during the day and impressing him with her cooking in the evening. She’d catch him watching her out of the corner of her eye and would smile coyly and then pretend to be interested in the way ahead while all the while sneaking peeks back at him. 

That had been her fantasy. In reality, she’d given no thought to the fact that she’d never ridden a horse in her life, or that the Company hadn’t hired her as a cook, because they already had one.

She’d also never given any thought to the fact that Kili might give her no particular notice.

At all.

As far as he was concerned, she might as well not have existed.

At least until tonight when he couldn’t have helped but her hear his uncle’s scathing dismissal of her.

She was pretty sure the entire mountain had heard.

She opened her eyes and curled her hands into fists. There was no way, just no way she was letting them come out and find her out here. There was no way she was going back either, to face the long months ahead as an outcast, unwanted, unneeded.

Unnecessary.

She took a deep breath and then, carefully, started to shuffle toward the wall of the mountain. There was a small shelf of rock still there, barely a strip of jagged, uneven stone jutting out from the mountain.

She reached where it started, and felt her stomach curdle inside her.

At its thickest point, the path was probably little wider than her foot, and that was being generous.

For the briefest of seconds, she considered giving it up. Returning in defeat to the cave and putting up with their disregard and disgust until they got to a point where she could somehow find her own way back.

She shook her head at the thought almost immediately. Just the thought of alone made her want to die of humiliation, there was simply no way she could suffer through it in reality.

She steadied her nerves, and took a step out onto the ledge. She pressed her body against the wall, fingers splayed against the rock, and tried to keep her eyes focused on the far side of the path.

Don’t look down, she told herself firmly. Just focus on the other side.

Something boomed over her head and she froze. Please be thunder, she thought desperately. Please be thunder.

The mountain, thankfully, stayed where it was and she tried to relax. She started to slide her foot out another step, stomach turning flips as loose rock and shale slid out from under her toes.

She edged her foot out just a little more...and the shelf crumbled away from under her.

She froze, and her brain locked, paralyzed with terror. In almost slow motion she felt her body slip backwards from the rock. As if watching from somewhere else she saw her fingers scrabble to find purchase against stone she was no longer touching.

Her stomach dropped.

Distantly, she thought she heard someone scream her name but the sound was lost to the roar of the wind past her ears.

And then she was falling.

                                                         ***

She was falling.

And then she wasn’t.

Bilba stood in blank confusion, eyes so wide it almost hurt, breaths coming in short, harsh pants. Her heart was racing so fast she feared it would give out, and she was trembling violently.

She was standing in a small grove of trees she didn’t remember being at the base of the mountains. The trees were in bloom, light pink flowers dusted in snow. A bright sun shone down from a brilliant blue sky, lighting fat flakes of snow swirling about her. Most snow mounded under the trees and beneath her feet. Her breath frosted when she breathed, but she didn’t feel cold.

Bilba crossed her arms nervously. Was this it? Had she died and this was what came after?

Her lips pursed and she swallowed thickly.

She hadn’t wanted to die.

She’d wanted to go home, sit in her chair again and forget she’d ever tried to go on an adventure where no one wanted her around. She could just imagine the disgust on their faces when they realized she’d gone and managed to get herself killed like an idiot. Especially Thorin. He’d probably --

“Greetings, daughter of Earth.”

Bilba shrieked, not only because the voice came from behind her without warning, but also because it sounded very much like Thorin’s.

It would be just her luck that she’d get herself killed and somehow end up in an afterlife populated by doubles of Thorin Oakenshield.

She whirled around, and let out an audible sigh of relief at the sight of a Man standing behind her. He was tall, as Men tended to be, with long dark hair and a powerful build. In those areas he did remind her of dwarves, but not that dwarf thankfully, and also not the one she’d been foolishly pining for, which was also nice.

Suddenly realizing that she was simply staring at him, Bilba shook herself out of her own thoughts, and forced a smile. “Greetings. Could you possibly tell me where I am?”

Please don’t say the afterlife, she thought. Please don’t say the afterlife.

The man’s eyes narrowed and his mouth quirked as if in some private amusement. “Where do you think you are?”

“I really can’t say,” Bilba confessed. She was beginning to calm down as she spoke to him, her heart slowing and and her shivering easing. There was something strangely non-threatening about the Man, in spite of him being a complete stranger.

She looked up, planning to show him where she’d fallen from, only to freeze in shock.

There was no mountain.

Over her head all she could see was the tops of trees and blue sky, stretching for miles in every direction.

“Is there a problem?” the man asked, voice casual.

Heart back to to thundering in his chest, Bilba turned her attention back to him. “I’m dead, aren’t I?” she asked. A sick feeling settled in her gut, along with renewed despair.

She really hadn’t been able to do anything right, had she?

“Are you?” the man asked. “Do you feel dead?”

Bilba frowned at him. “I don’t -- I’ve never been dead before. I wouldn’t know how it felt.” She hesitated. “It would seem I’m not where I was before, though, and that doesn’t seem very encouraging.”

“Hmmm,” the man looked around himself, taking in their surroundings. “I would say this is a far cry better than where you were a moment ago, wouldn’t you, Bilba Baggins?” With the last he turned to look her directly in the eyes and Bilba felt her heart stutter in her chest.

“How do you know my --” Her eyes widened and she dropped to her knees immediately, head down. “My apologies, my Lord. I didn’t recognize you.”

She still didn’t recognize him to be honest. There were multiple male Valar and she couldn’t remember enough about them to know them on sight. She’d always been more concerned with Yavanna, and why in the world wasn’t she there?

Perhaps, Bilba thought, because she was so useless that not even Yavanna wanted to see her and instead had foisted the task on...her...husband?

Mahal?

“Rise, child,” the Valar said, amused. “And, worry not. My wife isn’t here because you are, in fact, not dead. At least not yet.”

BIlba’s head jerked up and hope rushed through her. “Really?”

“Really,” Mahal said dryly. He indicated and Bilba quickly scrambled to her feet, dusting the snow off her skirts in an attempt to look at least a little presentable.

She looked at him expectantly, but he merely raised an eyebrow in return. After the silence stretched for several long, awkward minutes, she cleared her throat and timidly asked, “So, um, can I ask what’s going on?”

“What do you think is going on?”

Oh, great, Bilba thought, it was worse than trying to talk to Gandalf. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but here they were.

“I don’t know.” She tried to sound polite, she really did. “I fell off a cliff on my way back home and --” she swept out her arms to indicate their current surroundings. “And you say I’m not dead--” yet, he had said yet but she decided to overlook that part, “so I’m not really sure what’s going on.”

Mahal nodded his head to the side. “Walk with me, child.”

He started off without waiting and Bilba hustled forward to fall in alongside him.

“Why were you returning home?” Mahal asked without preamble.

Bilba’s shoulders sagged and she clasped her hands in front of her. “Because I’m useless,” she said softly, “and no one even wanted me there.”

“Is that so?” Mahal mused. “And if I were to tell you that, without your presence to distract the trolls, three of your number would have been killed before Olorin arrived?”

Bilba’s eyebrows drew together. “Olorin?”

“Gandalf,” he clarified.

“Oh.” Bilba focused on her feet where they were scuffing through the snow. “In that case, I’m glad I could help, but it doesn’t mean I was of any real use overall, or that I would be. Thorin was right. I shouldn’t have come.”

Mahal sighed. “Thorin tends to be one of my more stubborn children, but he carries much upon his shoulders. His people starve while he tries to secure their future.”

“I didn’t know that.” Bilba felt a rush of sympathy for the surly dwarf.

“And still he tries, even after those who owe him their loyalty refuse to help.” Mahal’s eyes turned hard, and Bilba felt a bite to the air for the first time. “Their actions will not be forgotten.”

Bilba was suddenly very glad she wasn’t one of the dwarven lords who’d refused to help Thorin in his quest. “I didn’t realize it was so very important,” she confessed quietly. “I’m happy I was able to help with the trolls, but I’m sure my leaving now is for the best. I’d have only been a burden, and they can’t have that on a quest this important.”

“Is that so?” Mahal frowned, eyes fixed on some empty spot in the distance. “Would you like to see how things will happen without you there?”

Bilba was taken aback. “Would things change that much? I can’t have been very important.”

“So you say,” Mahal countered, “and yet I have just told you what would have happened if you’d been absent during the encounter with the trolls.”

“Sure,” Bilba said nervously, “but that was just a lucky thing. Being useful once doesn’t mean I’d be useful again. I doubt they’d even notice if I was gone.”

Her mind went back to Kili again and the way he’d stared after the female elves in Rivendell. He’d never looked at her that way. She might as well have been a fellow male for all he took notice of her, no matter how much effort she tried to take in her appearance.

“Would they?” Mahal asked quietly.

He waved a hand, and the landscape in front of them simply...melted away as if it had never been there.

Instead she found herself staring into the foyer of Bag End as her past self, ran to answer the front door.

It hadn’t been all that long ago, but it felt like another lifetime. Almost as if the young woman she was watching was someone else entirely.

Her past self jerked the door open to reveal Fili and Kili standing on the other side. Bilba remembered his part very well. She’d been dazzled by Kili almost immediately and had started stammering and acting like an idiot, struggling to look both cute and alluring at the same time.

She’d thought, at the time, she’d done a good job. Now, looking at it from the outside, she could see she looked awkward and silly. Kili appeared to take no particular notice, breezing past her as if she weren’t even there.

Fili took the time to stop and talk to her, and Bilba mentally cringed at how dismissive she was toward him, eyes instead following Kili as he wandered off toward the kitchens.

The scene shifted to the next day when she’d run after the Company and Fili and Kili helped her into a saddle. She’d been enamored with the fact that Kili had touched her, however so briefly, and had simply stared at the spot on her arm, trying to convince herself that it meant something.

Yet again, as she watched from the outside, she saw something she hadn’t seen the first time. Fili trying to speak to her, only to give up when it became clear she wasn’t listening.

After this the images sped up, scene after scene of Fili ensuring she got food before he did, helping her on her pony, riding beside her and keeping her company, and then quietly backing away any time Kili approached.

Bilba flinched, remembering their time in Rivendell when Fili had invited her on a walk and they’d spent a pleasant afternoon seeing all the sights in the area. It was only now, with the scenes stitched together, that she realized he’d only invited her after she’d expressed excitement over being there and a desire to see everything.

Bilba had been aware of Fili during their time on the quest. He was a friend, someone easy to talk to and fun to spend time with. Watching the scenes as Mahal was showing her, revealed another level she hadn’t even been aware of.

Fili had been interested in her.

At least at first. He’d been trying to approach her, court her.

And she, in turn, had spent all her time fawning over Kili who hadn’t given her the time of day. Fili had clearly caught on, and had politely dropped back to not just being a friend, but to actively trying to help and encourage her when it came to her infatuation with his brother.

And she’d never even noticed.

“It would seem at least one would have noticed,” Mahal mused.

“So it would appear,” Bilba agreed in a low whisper.

Guilt assailed her for how often she’d simply dismissed or outright ignored him the second Kili had shown up. She’d treated him as an afterthought, and he’d taken it all with quiet grace and continued to treat her as a dear friend.

Her mother would have been ashamed of her behavior.

The scenes faded, Fili along with it, and left her simply standing back in the snow lit woods.

Bilba wasn’t sure how to feel. On the one hand, it was nice to realize at least one dwarf would have missed her.

Bofur’s face as he’d said good-bye to her flashed through her mind and she flinched again.

Two. Two would have missed her.

“And perhaps more,” Mahal said in a low voice next to her. “Only one was cruel to you and, though there is no excuse for bad behavior, I have found mortals are apt to speak rashly in moments of high stress.”

Bilba grimaced, moments when she’d spoken without thought coming easily to mind. It didn’t mean she felt Thorin was justified, or that he didn’t owe her an apology, but it did help her understand a little more at least.

They were both mortal, and sometimes they said things they shouldn’t. Thorin certainly didn’t want her there, but if she were being honest, he had cause. She wasn’t prepared for any of this, had no idea why Gandalf had chosen her of all people to join.

“I was running away,” she whispered, focused on her hands where they were clasped in front of her. “It’s been so much harder than I thought it would be.”

“And yet you’ve already come so far,” Mahal responded. “You’ve done splendidly, and managed to save three of their lives, whether they know it or not.”

BIlba gave a weak smile as the words sent a warm feeling through her.

That feeling was dispelled a moment later when Mahal’s expression turned grave. “Would you like to know how things will go without you?”

Bilba felt uneasy, but nodded. “Okay.”

It couldn’t be that bad, after all, could it? How much difference could one, small hobbit make? Thorin was a capable warrior in his own right, and had an entire contingent behind him. Perhaps she’d been wrong about her absence going unnoticed, but that didn’t mean her presence would make any sort of actual difference to the quest.

Really, Gandalf had claimed they needed a burglar when they already had Nori who actually knew what he was doing. Why in the world Gandalf had seen fit to add someone else, and someone like her who was wildly ill equipped for anything that didn’t involve her garden, kitchen or library was beyond her.

Mahal nodded...and her mind shattered.

Images, and sensations flooded her, overwhelming over.

Bitter cold.

A single, lonely peak silhouetted against an empty sky.

A massive, baleful eye.

Fire.

The roar of an army flooding across a plain.

The sharp gasp of a last breath.

Screams.

“Go back to your books, and your armchair. Plant your trees, watch them grow. If more people valued home above gold ... this world would be a merrier place."

Her own gut wrenching sobs.

Silent forms laid out on slabs.

Death.

Bilba staggered and fell to her knees. Her breath was ragged, and her throat burned as if she’d been screaming.

She lifted a trembling hand to her face and felt the wetness of tears streaming down. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her head pounded with a truly spectacular headache.

Mahal knelt in front of her and Bilba looked up at him in shock. “They die? All three of them?” And that was only part of it. Yavanna, the fire on the lake, and the army...so much death. She shook her head. “You can’t possibly be suggesting I can change any of that?”

“Why not?” Mahal asked. “Even the smallest person can change the course of the world. Many of the heroes you read about in your books were but one person, set out on a great adventure.”

Bilba scrubbed her hands aggressively over her face. She settled back on her heels and took a shuddering breath. “What do you want me to do?”

Mahal put a hand on her shoulder. “The question, my dear, is what do you want to do?”

Bilba pushed to her feet. “Are you saying I could still go home?”

“If you wish.” Mahal had stood to face her. “If you so desire, you can be back in Bag End, safe and warm and surrounded by your books.”

Bilba crossed her arms. Right then, the stench of blood in her nostrils and the echo of screams in her ears, going home sounded exactly like what she wanted to do.

Just...go home and crawl into her bed, hide under the covers and go to sleep. Then, maybe, tomorrow she’d brew herself a nice pot of tea, find a good book and go out to the bench outside her backdoor.

She’d sit down, and open her book...and spend the rest of the day feeling the heat of fire as it scorched through buildings. Feel the tremor under her as thousands of feet marched upon the earth. Picture the Durins marching to their deaths.

Sweet, kind Fili.

Exuberant, funny Kili.

Even Thorin for all his stubbornness and irritation still commanded her respect in other ways. His love for his nephews. The loyalty he’d so clearly earned from those following him. His desire to regain Erebor for his people.

She didn’t want to see them die.

She shut her eyes and tightened her arms until she was hugging herself. “I can save them? All of them?”

“Perhaps,” Mahal said, his voice toneless. “Is that your choice then? To try and save them?”

Bilba took a deep breath and then opened her eyes. Fear curdled low in her gut, but there was a fire in her eyes and her voice was steady when she spoke. “Yes. Please, send me--”

                                                        ***

The shelf crumbled away from under her..

Her body froze, and her brain locked, paralyzed with terror. In almost slow motion she felt her body slip backwards from the rock. As if watching from somewhere else she saw her fingers scrabble to find purchase against stone she was no longer touching. 

Her stomach dropped as she began to fall away.

A hand grabbed the edge of her skirt and yanked, hard. Her body flew to the side, and an arm wrapped around her waist and wrenched her back.

She landed, not on hard rock but a firm body, arms closed tightly around her waist.

She twisted enough to look up and found herself looking at Fili who, in turn, had his head back and his eyes heavenward while he tried to catch his breath. As if sensing her gaze, his eyes flicked to hers. “Are you all right?”

Bilba nodded shakily. Fili let out a sigh of relief and then began to struggle to a seated position. They were pretty well tangled together and, at one point, Bilba found herself quite firmly seated on his lap with her face mere inches from his.

His eyes widened and he flushed. “Sorry,” he said quickly, putting his hands to her waist to move her off. “I’m --”

The last bit was cut off in an “oof” as Bilba lunged forward and threw her arms around him, hugging him. The images Mahal had shown her -- the look in his eyes as a blade was driven through him, the grief that had washed over her at the sight of him laid out on a slab -- ran through her mind and she hugged him tighter.

“Hey,” he said softly, completely misunderstanding the reason for her upset, “it’s okay.” He hugged her back just as tightly. “You’re all right.”

Bilba buried her face in her arms, and against his neck. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have left. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Fili urged her back and took her face in his hands. “It’s fine. I just wish you’d have said something. If you’d wanted to go home, I’d have been happy to take you.” His mouth quirked into a self-deprecating smile. “Or perhaps I could have convinced Kili.”

“I don’t want your brother to take me,” Bilba muttered. “I’m not interested in him anymore.” She laughed quietly. “He made it pretty clear he isn’t interested. I just wasn’t listening.”

Fili went still. “Is that so. Decided to give up on romantic entanglements?”

Bilba smiled at the clumsy attempt to ask her a question without actually asking her a question. She met his eyes, and was mildly surprised at the flutter that ran through her stomach. Perhaps she hadn’t been as immune to him as she’d once thought. Perhaps she just hadn’t been paying attention. “I don’t know yet,” she said shyly, “but I’m open to possibilities.”

Fili grinned broadly. He gently moved her off his lap, got up and helped her to her feet. It was still raining, and Bilba didn’t resist as he took her hand to lead her back to the cave. The rock was wet and slippery and she didn’t relish the thought of falling for a second time.

Besides, she thought as she put her shoulders back and lifted her chin. She couldn’t fall. 

People needed her.

She wouldn’t let them down.

                                                       ***

In midair, invisible to the mortal eye, Aule stood and watched as one of his children led the young hobbit back to the temporary safety of the cave.

A figure stepped beside him and he nodded his head respectfully. “Father.”

“You might be surprised,” Eru started without preamble, “to learn that the pattern has changed and the line of Durin is no longer fated to end at Ravenshill.”

“Is that so?” Aule asked innocently.

Eru gave him a look of pure exasperation. “You were meant to show her what would happen if she went home, not what would happen either way.”

“I did show her what would happen if she wasn’t there,” Aule explained. “In that battle she would have been knocked unconscious early on, hence, not there.” Eru gave him a look that was decidedly not amused and Aule held his arms out helplessly. “It was that or listen to Durin endlessly complain about the end of his line.”

“How is it,” Eru asked, “that he even found out?”

“He may have overhead me discussing it with my wife.” Aule gave an unrepentant grin and Eru shook his head.

“You’re fortunate you did not change things for the worse,” he said with affection.

“I should have changed them for the better,” Aule said hopefully. “The ring will be far closer to Mordor when the time comes, and Frodo Baggins and his friends will be untouched by Sauron’s evil.”

Eru was silent, contemplating. Aule had no doubt that not every change would be positive, and he hoped Eru would be willing to adjust things to get the desired results, and not simply insist it all be put back to the way it had been.

After a second, Eru sighed. “I’m far too lenient with you.”

Aule grinned brilliantly, and then he was alone. He stayed where he was a few minutes later, watching as the hobbit reached the cave with her young dwarf. Idly, he wondered how long it would take for them to learn they were each other’s Ones.

Or that the relationship was a gift, meant to strengthen her for the trials to come.

“Stay strong, little hobbit,” he whispered after her as she vanished from sight. “You will need it for the days ahead.”

Then he was gone, and all that was left was the wind howling through the crevices, and the patter of rain upon the rocks.

[out-of-the-embers]

Day 26 - Choice

(Trigger Warnings: Referenced grief.)

9:41 Dragon, Haven

The sun does arise, And make happy the skies. The merry bells ring To welcome the Spring. The sky-lark and thrush, The birds of the bush, Sing louder around, To the bells cheerful sound.

Raphael squinted his eyes as he tried to make out his uncle’s writing on the margin, right next to the poem.

...just like Raphael’s nameday last week.

He sighed as he took another sip of ale.

It had been a few hours since he had left Lily’s cabin so she could rest, and instead of turning in for the night, he had taken refuge in the empty tavern with the book she had given him.

He had willed himself to keep it together whenever he was around her, but in the end everything had been too much to bear. He had fallen apart in front of her, and she had cried with him as they both mourned for all they had lost.

The feeling he was left with afterwards was strange. He felt lighter, somehow, as if a weight had been slightly lifted from him and he couldn’t remember if he had ever felt anything like it.

Perhaps it was something he and Lily had both needed. He only hoped the weight she was carrying was also lessened.

He vaguely heard a few people step into the tavern but didn’t bother looking up as he got ready to turn another page.

“May I join you?”

Raphael jerked in his seat with surprise when he heard one of the voices near him, and he looked up to find Cassandra in front of him, with an unsure expression on her face. He hesitated before lowering his legs from the bench so he could sit properly and nodded.

She looked at him for a moment before she sat down next to him. “I am afraid we got off to a bad start.”

“I guess we did,” he sighed. Her nobility was something he had recently heard about, and even though she didn’t seem to care much about her own title, he was still wary at having her near him. Especially after their rocky start.

But... if she was willing to make an effort, then it was only fair to meet her halfway.

He took a breath and looked at her. “I’m sorry about what I said before. It was uncalled for.”

A hint of surprise appeared on her face. “I - I wanted to apologize to you as well. It was unfair of me to judge you so harshly.”  

Raphael briefly tensed in his seat before he willed himself to relax. “I’m guessing Leliana has thoroughly investigated me?” he asked, raising a brow. He chuckled softly when she gave him a slight frown and shrugged off her apology despite being tired of living under the family’s reputation. “I understand. Trevelyans aren’t exactly known for being warm and cuddly.”

“You and your cousin don’t seem to fit under your clan’s character,” she remarked.

He had been about to take another sip of his ale when her comment caught him off guard, and he stared at her in amusement. “Is that your way of saying you think we’re warm and cuddly?”

A blush seemed to color her cheeks despite the dim lighting in the tavern. “Of course not! I only meant - ”

He shook his head slightly, wanting to kick himself for his dumb comment. “I’m joking.”

She released an annoyed huff and he tried to hide his smile by taking a drink out of his tankard.

“Well,” began Cassandra, “Leliana has collected a rather frightening amount of information on you.”

Raphael sighed. Of course she has.

“But when I said I would respect your choice, I meant it,” she continued, her voice firm. “If I’m going to learn anything about you, I would rather hear it from you, if you so choose and not some report.”

There was nothing but direct honesty in her expression as Raphael looked back at her, not really knowing what to say. There haven’t been many people who bothered to respect his decisions, and yet here was Cassandra, the woman he had seen as a possible adversary, doing just that.

She had left the choice up to him, and didn’t try to pressure him into sharing anything he wasn’t willing.

He thought back to what Lily had said to him earlier that evening.

Perhaps he wouldn’t tell her everything just yet, but he was willing to share whatever could make the Inquisition’s work easier.

“Okay,” he said, nodding slowly. “What do you want to know?”

The poem here is called “The Ecchoing Green” by William Blake.

Previous | Next

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @gayndsoft!

Read on AO3

*****

Rafael Lightwood-Bane’s Best Christmas Present Ever...    

Magnus leant back on the sofa sipping eggnog as he glanced across to the far side of the loft.

“He looks like he’s doing really well.” Catarina, who was sitting next to him, nodded towards the small figure of Rafael who was currently busy decorating the Christmas tree along with Max and Madzie under the watchful gaze of Alec.

“He is. You know, after all he’s been through…” Magnus shook his head sadly at the memory.

It was little over ten months ago that Rafael had come into their lives Magnus thought remembering the first time they met him. He and Alec had been on a routine mission when they’d heard a faint whimpering coming from behind a pile of rubbish. Magnus’ heart had broken when they’d seen the little boy, likely no more than six years old, cowering back against the wall, filthy dirty and scrawny from lack of nourishment, his brown eyes wide with terror.

It’d taken what felt like hours before Alec had managed to coax him out, and still longer till either of them dared to move towards him, terrified they’d spook him. Finally they’d managed to get him back to the loft, but as the child seemed unwilling or incapable of speech, they really hadn’t known what to do with him.

Fortunately one member of the family did. Max had just turned four and was confident and gregarious making him the ideal person to break the ice. He’d grabbed Rafael’s hand and instantly dragged him over to the toy box. The pair had been inseparable ever since.

For months Rafael didn’t say a word but somehow Max always knew what he wanted and had taken it upon himself to be the little boy’s spokesperson. Magnus still remembered the first day Rafael had spoken, it’d taken months of wrangling with the Clave who had wanted to take the boy to Idris as soon as they found out he was a shadowhunter, but finally they’d succeeded in their attempts at adopting him.

That night he and Alec had sat both the boys down, Rafael holding onto Max’s hand like a lifeline, and asked them how they would feel about being brothers for real. Magnus hadn't even been sure he’d heard it at first but when Alec turned to him and smiled, tears in his eyes, he knew it hadn’t been his imagination. Rafael had whispered, “Yes please”.

It would be nice to say that things had been fine from then onwards, but real life is never that easy. Rafael was still silent around everyone bar immediate family and friends, not out of shyness, more out of caution. Even with the select few people he did trust, he wasn't exactly talkative at first.

Of all the people Rafael took to, the biggest surprise was Raphael Santiago, who the boy practically hero worshipped. It’d started when Magnus had been called out on urgent business one night whilst Alec was on patrol and he’d had no choice but to ask his famously taciturn friend to babysit the boys. What he wasn't expecting on his return was to find the three of them in the kitchen, Raphael instructing the boys on how to make tamales.

Suffice to say when after months of trying to ask the boy what his name was, after all they could hardly keep calling him kiddo, no one was really shocked when he announced he was called Rafael. They’d never really know if that was actually what he was called and Magnus had a sneaking suspicion that even Rafael didn't remember his real name. Nonetheless from that point on, he was Rafael Lightwood-Bane.

“Well he looks really happy now. You and Alec should be really proud.” The sound of Catarina’s voice roused Magnus from his memories.

“So does Madzie.” Magnus looked across to where the kids were all laughing and joking together. Madzie had tinsel wrapped around her neck like a feather boa and Rafael was insisting Max should wear baubles dangling off his newly grown horns.

“Yeah, who’d have thought we’d turn out to be good at this parenting lark eh?” Catarina laughed.

“I’ll drink to that.” Magnus clinked his glass with Catarina’s beer bottle.

“Papa, Papa..” Max came hurtling over and grabbed Magnus’ hand, urging him to join them by the tree. “Look, we’re all done.”

“It looks amazing, blueberry.” Max puffed out his chest proudy as Magnus ruffled his hair.

Every inch of the Christmas tree was covered with ornaments, none of which matched in the slightest. There was more tinsel on it than Magnus even knew they owned and there must have been at least 4 sets of lights. Coordinated it was not but the overall effect was adorable.

“Ok guys, all we need to do is switch the lights on. Who wants to do the honours?” Alec asked in his most serious voice.

“Rafey. Madzie and I did it before.” Max announced.

“Ok then. You up for it Raf..?” Alec crouched down to Rafael’s height and was rewarded with a serious nod in response. “Ok, so when I say, you flick the switch. Papa always likes to make a speech first.”

Rafael giggled, a sound that was always music to Magnus’ ears, before following Alec dutifully over to the switch and chewing his lip in concentration as he waited.

Magnus cleared his throat dramatically.

“I’d like to start by thanking the excellent decorating party without whom none of this would've been possible and of course say thank you to Catarina and Madzie for joining us on this very important day.” Magnus began, punctuating his words with dramatic flourishes of his hands.

“Papa, hurry up..” Max was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Fine..” Magnus huffed in mock affront. “Without further ado I now declare the Lightwood-Bane Christmas decorations open.”

Magnus winked at Rafael who flicked the switch making the loft light up with what looked like thousands of twinkling lights.

“Yay.” Max clapped his hands together happily whilst Madzie grinned happily.

Alec rested his hand lightly on Rafael’s shoulder as the little boy looked around the room, lips parted in wonder.

“You did good kiddo.” Alec whispered and Rafael looked up, proud smile on his lips.

The moment was shattered by Max bounding up to the pair of them, a worried expression on his face.

“What’s the matter Maxie..?” Alec crouched down as Max tugged anxiously at his shirt.

“We forgot the stockings, Daddy.” Max’s brow was furrowed in concern. “How’s Santa gonna leave us presents if we don't have stockings?”

Rafael snorted derisively.

“You Ok Raf?” Magnus joined Alec in crouching, looking at Rafael in concern.

“Santa’s not real.” Rafael snapped.

Max’s lip wobbled a little as he looked between his parents.

“Sure he is Raf. He’s as real as you and I.” Alec reached out to reassure their son but Rafael pulled away angrily.

“No he’s not. Santa is a lie.” Rafael shouted before turning and running off to his room.

Magnus and Alec exchanged a look.

“I'll go.” Alec whispered before standing up and racing after Rafael. Magnus pulled Max into a hug.

The slight tugging at his side caught Magnus’ attention and as he turned his head he saw Madzie pulling at his shirt.

“Is it true Uncle Magnus? Is Santa a lie?” Madzie asked seriously as Magnus watched Catarina shrug behind her.

“No sweetpea, of course it’s not true…” Madzie smiled hesitantly at Magnus’ words. “I’ll have you know Santa is a good friend of Catarina and I. Isn't that right Cat?”

“Um...yes. We’re great friends.” Cat agreed after a second’s hesitation.

“Really??” Max looked at Magnus and Cat with wide eyes before turning his full attention to his Papa. “Can we meet him? Can we? Please.”

Magnus hadn't really thought things through before he’d spoken and now he was surrounded by two excited children looking at him expectantly, whilst Catarina shook her head affectionately behind them.

“You know Santa’s very busy this time of year…” Magnus began, only to be drowned out by a chorus of pleas.

“Okay, okay. I’ll see what I can do...no promises though..”

Both Madzie and Max seemed satisfied with the answer and nodded their heads seriously.

“But you’ve both got to be very good. Santa only likes good boys and girls.” Magnus stood up as both promised they would be.

“Let’s go tell Raf..” Max grabbed Magnus’ hand and pulled him towards Rafael’s room.

………

From outside the room Magnus could hear Alec and Rafael talking and he paused for a second, making Max look at him, his brow slightly furrowed. Magnus held a finger to his lip.

“But he can't be real Daddy..” Rafael sniffed and Magnus felt his heart clench painfully at the sound, knowing that his son had been crying.

“Why do you say that?” Alec asked. As Magnus hovered in the doorway he saw Alec sit on the bed, gently stroking Rafael’s hair as the little boy lay there facing the wall.

“Because if he’s real, why didn't he find me? Why did he leave me all alone?” Rafael turned his head to look at Alec, streaks of tears running down his face.

Magnus wasn't sure he had it in him to speak after seeing the anguish on his son’s face and from the looks of it Alec wasn't faring any better. Fortunately Max didn't seem to have any such qualms and breaking out of Magnus grip, he sprinted into the the room and jumped on the bed.

“Because he couldn't find you, silly.” Max answered confidently. “You’re really good at hiding Raf..”

“You think?” Rafael looked at Max, a glimmer of hope behind his eyes and Max nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Of course.” Max replied with all the certainty of a four year old and Rafael smiled hesitantly. “We can ask him when we meet him and I bet you get extra presents too..”

Rafael sat up a little and furrowed his brow.

“Papa knows him. We’re gonna visit..” Max announced proudly.

Alec caught Magnus’ eye and mouthed ‘what?’. He replied with a slight shrug and a lopsided smile.

“Really?” Raf asked tentatively.

“Yeah. C’mon Raf, let's go get some candy. We always get candy when the tree is done.” Max grabbed his brother’s hand and pulled him up.

“Ok.” Rafael smiled as Max dragged him out of the room, leaving a somewhat shell shocked Alec in their wake.

Slowly Alec got to his feet and walked over to Magnus.

“So d’you wanna explain..?” Alec asked, lips quirking slightly.

“Ok, ok, I may have said I knew Santa. I was kind of put on the spot, you know..” Magnus pouted.

“Right, so what do we do now ?” Alec raised an eyebrow.

“Well darling, clearly we go meet Santa.”

………..

Later that evening after Catarina and Madzie had left and the boys had gone to bed, Magnus retired to his office, ostensibly to make final arrangements. He’d at least partially convinced a very skeptical Alec that he had a plan and now he had to make good on it.

Magnus paced the room, drink in hand, as he waited for the call to connect.

“What do you want Magnus?” Within minutes a very grumpy sounding Ragnor answered the phone.

“Why do you always assume I want something when I call? Perhaps I just phoned to catch up?” Magnus pouted.

 “Unlikely.”

“Ok, well it’s possible I could do with a teensy weensy favour.” Magnus conceded as Ragnor snorted victoriously on the other end of the line.

Magnus spent the next five minutes explaining extensively the events of the day, hoping to soften his friend up before moving on to the real reason for his call.

“No, not a chance.” Ragnor replied once Magnus had finished talking.

“Ragnor, please..” Magnus begged, determined to not give up without a fight.

 “Surely there must be someone else.”

“There really isn't. Rafael’s really smart and he’d know something was up if it was anyone else. Besides, he hasn't met you yet because you’re a curmudgeonly old git who never visits.” Magnus pouted.

“Lovely, insult the man you’re asking for a favour.” Ragnor grumbled and Magnus heard the gentle chinking of crockery in the background. He could picture his old friend sitting on the sofa sipping tea and the image made him smile. “Fine, I’ll do it, but not for you, you understand, because that poor boy deserves it.”

………

A week later and everyone was gathered in the loft’s living room, bundled up in hats and scarves. Madzie and Max were nattering excitedly and even Rafael had joined in, despite looking more than a little nervous.

Alec glanced across and raised an eyebrow as Magnus grinned back confidently. So far he’d kept his plans from everyone, including Alec, and he was really looking forward to their reactions. He only hoped that Ragnor had managed to uphold his end of the deal.

“Right then. Is everyone ready?” Magnus asked and the three children nodded their heads obediently. “Ok, next stop, Lapland.”

Magnus turned and conjured a portal before grabbing Rafael’s hand and leading everyone through.

The scene on the other side of the portal was straight out of a Christmas card and even Magnus had to admit Ragnor had outdone himself.

Everywhere was covered in snow with forests of fir trees in the background. Up ahead, a cosy looking log cabin stood, smoke puffing out of the chimney, lights twinkling in the windows and a brightly coloured sleigh parked beside it. To their right was a large barn and the sound of clinking machinery mixed with Christmas music drifted over the air. On the left hand side there was a large field with a stable block attached, currently inhabited by a group of reindeer running merrily around.

Magnus barely had time to take it all in before the three children began running around excitedly, trying to take in everything in front of them. Alec glanced across, a look of shock on his face and even Catarina looked impressed.

Somehow Magnus managed to herd everyone towards the cabin, before encouraging the children up the wooden steps to knock on the door whilst the adults stood back a little.

Before they had a chance to knock, the door was swung open by a large man wearing a bright red Santa suit, his white hair spilling out from under his hat and a rather impressive looking beard.

“Well if it isn't Rafael, Max and Madzie. I’ve been expecting the three of you.” A voice boomed out with a distinctive British accent that had Catarina stifling a laugh. “Welcome to my home.”

“Magnus, is that Ragnor?” Alec whispered and Magnus nodded his head surreptitiously. “What the hell?”

Magnus had to admit Ragnor definitely looked the part and were it not for the accent even he’d be hard pushed to recognise him under the heavy glamour. Magnus couldn't resist teasing his old friend so he mouthed ‘ho ho ho’ at him, receiving a brief frown in reply.

“So how about I get one of my elves to show you around eh?” Santa Ragnor clicked his fingers and a brightly dressed elf appeared. Magnus was pretty sure he recognised him to be a young warlock that Ragnor had been mentoring. “I'm afraid Santa is very busy at the moment, what with it being so close to Christmas, but when you’re finished we’ll all have some tea. Ho, ho, ho.”

If the last bit was more than a little sarcastic, none of the children seemed to notice, far too occupied with everything around them. All holding hands, they trooped excitedly after the ‘elf’, leaving the adults behind with Ragnor.

“Admit it, I did rather well, even if I say so myself.” Ragnor said as soon as the youngsters were out of earshot.

“Well, it's not bad I s’pose.” Magnus held a finger to his lip as he looked around. “But I was under the impression that Santa was supposed to be jolly and well…”

Magnus indicated Ragnor with a flourish of his hand and Ragnor scowled in response.

“Magnus!” Alec smacked him lightly on the arm in admonishment.

“Fine, Ok. I'm impressed, you’ve outdone yourself old friend.” Magnus grinned. “I owe you one.”

“Damn right. I'm thinking a vintage port as a start, and trust me, you’ll be repaying this one for centuries..” Ragnor grumbled, although the smile on his lips gave him away more than a little.

“Rubbish..you’re enjoying yourself.” Magnus gasped, seeing his friends expression.

“Am not.”

“Are too..”

“When you two are quite finished, can we please go inside...it’s bloody freezing out here.” Catarina interrupted in her best schoolmarm voice.

……..

It was about half an hour and several glasses of port later. Magnus and Ragnor had fallen into their usual pattern of good humoured teasing and the atmosphere was festive to say the least.

“Honestly my dear little cabbage, how is it possible that despite it being Christmas, you still manage to have such awful taste in interior decor. It’s rather drab, isn't it.” Magnus was pacing the room glass in hand whilst Alec rolled his eyes good humoredly.

“It’s called good taste, not that you’d know. Do put that down, it’s an antique.” Ragnor scowled at Magnus who had paused by the open fireplace and picked up an ancient looking snowglobe.

“Like you then.” Magnus poked his tongue out before putting the globe back on the mantle and reluctantly moving back to the sofa, looking at the threadbare patchwork throw on it in apparent disgust.

“Are they always like this?” Alec asked Cat, lips quirking at the corners.

“Yep.” Cat replied with a fond shake of her head. “Have been for the last two centuries. To be honest, it pretty much washes over me these days.”

“Catarina Loss, surely as one of my oldest friends you should be sticking up for me.” Magnus pouted, hand held to his chest.

Whatever Catarina was going to say was disturbed by the loud arrival of the three children. Max and Madzie came bounding in, with Max excitedly telling everyone what they’d seen.

“And there were reindeer and we saw Rudolph. Rudolph, Daddy. Can you believe it? And Mervin, that’s the elf’s name, said we could feed them later if Santa says it's ok..” Alec smiled down at his son but couldn't manage to get a word in edgeways. When Max was excited he always talked a mile a minute.

Out of the corner of his eye Magnus saw Rafael was standing back a little, eyes narrowed as he surveyed the room with suspicion. Clearly Ragnor noticed too and getting to his feet he walked over to the little boy before crouching down and looking at him seriously.

“Rafael, I wonder if I could have a word if that’s ok?” Ragnor spoke softly and Rafael glanced up at Magnus for reassurance. Magnus winked and nodded at his son.

“Ok.” Rafael looked at Ragnor, folding his arms resolutely and sticking his chin out.

“Excellent. Why don't we have a chat by the tree?” Ragnor stood up and guided Rafael with a hand hovering just behind his back until they were just out of earshot.

Catarina and Alec were busy listening to everything Madzie and Max were telling them but Magnus was curious. With a click of his fingers his magic sparked, increasing his hearing so he could listen to what Ragnor was saying.

Rafael had his back to him so he couldn't see his expression but he could tell by the rigid set of his shoulders that his son was definitely on the defensive.

“I'm afraid Rafael, that I owe you an apology.” Ragnor spoke softly but with sincerity. “I really tried to find you last Christmas.”

“‘S’alright..” Rafael mumbled.

“No Rafael, it is not. I pride myself on always finding good boys and girls and you Rafael are one of the bravest and best boys I’ve seen.” Magnus felt himself tearing up at Ragnor’s words and he watched as his son tilted his head in acknowledgement of them. “You are also exceptionally good at hiding, so you certainly made things rather tricky for me, still we got there in the end didn't we..”

“But you didn't find me..” Magnus could picture the frown on Rafael's face as he spoke and he wondered where Ragnor was going with this.

“Hmm didn't I now? Can I ask you a question Rafael?” Ragnor paused for a second, waiting for the little boy’s response. Rafael seemed to think for a moment before cautiously nodding his head.

“Last year, what did you pray for for Christmas?” Ragnor asked kindly.

The next words were so quiet coming out of Rafael’s mouth that even with his magically enhanced hearing he struggled to catch them.

“A family…” A tear rolled down Magnus’ cheek when he heard those words which he hastily brushed away.

“Exactly. Well I'm sorry I didn't manage it for Christmas, but as I said, you were pretty difficult to find and then I had to choose the very best family I could. Even Santa can't get that done quickly, I'm afraid.” Ragnor waved his hands around dramatically.

“You mean..” Rafael’s hands dropped to his side.

Ragnor smiled broadly and nodded his head. Seconds later Rafael threw himself at Ragnor, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you Santa, thank you. You really sent me Daddy and Papa?” Rafael exclaimed excitedly.

“And Max too.” Ragnor laughed.

Rafael squealed with happiness as he snuggled into Ragnor.

“You didn't forget me.” Magnus heard the little boy say.

“Heavens no. Why would you think that?” Ragnor chuckled.

Rafael pulled back and stood shifting from foot to foot awkwardly.

“Um Santa..” He mumbled.

“Yes, Rafael?”

“I’m really sorry.” Magnus saw Ragnor raise a bushy eyebrow in question. “I was really mean about you and I said you weren't real. I don't think I deserve any presents this year..”

Rafael poked the edge of the rug with his toe and Ragnor stood up, dusting off his trousers before placing a hand on the boys shoulder.

“Nonsense, dear boy. You have been very good this year and you absolutely deserve presents. I don't blame you one bit for doubting me, I was very late with your gift last year.”

“But…”

“No buts. Santa knows these things.” Ragnor stood and cleared his throat. “Now then, those reindeer of mine won't feed themselves you know. I don't suppose anyone would like to help, would they?”

Max and Madzie jumped up and down with their hands in the air. Magnus caught Ragnor’s eye over their heads and mouthed ‘thank you’ as he wiped away another tear.

……

By the time they left it was really late, having spent a fun filled afternoon feeding the reindeer, making snowmen and snow angels and having a pretty epic snowball fight. Max was fast asleep, being carried by Alec, and Madzie wasn't far behind, leaning heavily on Cat’s shoulder as she held her. Just as they were about to step through the portal Rafael let go of Magnus’ hand and ran back to Ragnor to give him one more hug before they left.

Catarina and Madzie said their goodbyes and portalled home and Max didn't even stir as Alec put him to bed.

As Magnus tucked Rafael into bed he could barely keep his eyes open either.

“So did you have a nice time today Raf?” Magnus asked as he leant down to kiss him on the forehead.

“Yeah. It was the best. Thank you, Papa.” Rafael murmured sleepily.

“It was my pleasure. Now sleep tight, my little angel.” Magnus got up and moved to the door, switching off the light so the only illumination was the constellation night light Alec had bought him to help him settle when he first arrived.

“Papa?” Raf said groggily.

“Yes, Rafey?”

“Santa said you and Daddy and Max were my Christmas present last year and, well, can you tell Maxi and Daddy something from me?”

“Of course darling..”

“Best present ever…” Rafael grinned.

“Well, my angel, if Santa gave you us for Christmas, he also gave us you and that my darling was our best present ever.” Magnus grinned happily at the beaming smile on his son’s face. “Now get some rest sweetheart.”

“‘Kay. Oh and Papa, I promise I’ll look out for you ‘cos Santa says you're always getting up to mischief, so I said I’d make sure you didn't get into too much trouble.” Rafael spoke earnestly and Magnus had to fight the urge to laugh at how typical it was of Ragnor to have the last word.

“Thank you Rafael. Now then, time to go to sleep Ok?”

“Ok, night night Papa.”

“Night Rafael.”

Magnus closed the door softly behind him as he left and if he cried like a baby later that night as he told Alec what Ragnor had said to Rafael, no one really needed to know.

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

the best by far is you: chapter 4

Read chapter 4 on AO3

Read from beginning on AO3

Summary: An exploration of Claire & Jamie's story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the battle of Culloden. 

HUGE THANKS  to @let-the-dream-begin​ for the beautiful moodboard!

Chapter 4

September 1744

“She’s a right beautiful bairn.” Jenny bounced wee Faith gently in her arms. She hadn't stopped smiling since they arrived back at Lallybroch nearly an hour ago with the newest addition to their family. “Ye did good, Claire.”

Claire leaned her head back against Jamie where they stood by the hearth, watching Jenny, Ian, and their nephew and niece become acquainted with their daughter. Claire eyed Maggie where she was being bounced on her father’s knee and marveled at how she’d grown from the newborn Claire had last seen to the hearty and cherubic girl of ten months now, all dark hair and eyes, rosy cheeks and baby fat rolls.  

Her thoughts were interrupted by Faith’s sudden sneezing fit and Claire immediately propelled herself forward, only to feel herself pulled back sharply to Jamie’s chest, his arms going around her waist. “She’s alright, Claire.” He whispered in her ear as he effectively anchored her in place. She tried to slow her racing heart and relax into Jamie’s grip. None of the Murrays noticed, in part because of the truth of Jamie’s words; Faith was alright and keeping her family members utterly captivated with her as her sneezing ceased. Even though she looked now like any other infant, albeit smaller for her age, Claire would never forget the shock of how impossibly tiny Faith was when they placed her in Claire’s arms. “She’s alright.” Claire whispered, more to herself than in acknowledgement of Jamie. Still, she felt the press of his lips at her temple in reassurance and savored this moment with their family finally restored at Lallybroch and Jamie home at last without worry of a price on his head.

A joyous shout from the courtyard caught Claire’s attention and she peered out the window to see Fergus and Rabbie already forming a fast friendship. Her heart warmed at the sight. Little Rabbie MacNab would always have a soft spot in Claire’s heart, who she remembered all too vividly bearing the marks of abuse on his small body left by his no-good father. He belonged here at the farmhouse, where he would be treated with dignity and kindness. And, watching his scrappy, Parisian playfellow, Claire came to the same conclusion about Fergus; he deserved a childhood in the safety of Lallybroch, where he wouldn’t be starved or neglected or abused. No, those once love-starved boys deserved so much more than the difficulties they’d already overcome.

“Jamie, look.” Claire said softly, sharing the scene with him. He caught sight of Fergus and Rabbie and chuckled.

“Weel, there’s trouble if ever I saw it.”

“I think it’s sweet.”

“Aye, well, ye didna ken me and Ian at that age.”

She laughed at this. “Yes but I’ve heard plenty of stories.” She leaned back in his arms and turned to kiss his cheek. “And a child should have a best friend, shouldn’t he?”

“I’ll no’ disagree with ye there, Sassenach.”

They swayed together in place, both gazes returning to the Murray family before them. Jenny held the baby up to wee Jamie’s face so he could give her a kiss, as he’d asked. When she resettled the baby in the crook of her arm, Jenny’s gaze caught Claire’s. “I told ye, didn’t I?” She said with a particular gleam in her eyes. “I told ye you’d have one of yer own soon enough.”

Claire smiled softly at the memory, sitting on the steps outside of Lallybroch with Jenny, sharing their delight over Maggie, their worry over Jamie and Ian. It was the moment Claire knew what it must be like to have a sister’s love and she found herself swallowing thickly now with the wave of emotions tied up in that day. “And Faith was already there when you said it, I just didn’t know it yet.”

The real surprise of their return had been finding Jenny already five months gone into her third pregnancy. She’d smiled coyly when Jamie and Claire noticed and said she’d thought it’d be better news in person.

“But… Christ, wee Maggie’s only ten‒”

Claire had cut Jamie’s comment off with a loud “We’re so excited for you!” and that had been that, although she caught Jamie giving Ian an incredulous look on their way inside.

It did rather make Claire’s head spin at the thought. Two babies only fifteen months apart. And here at Lallybroch now, Faith would be sandwiched between them in age. Oh, they were about to have their hands full...

Jenny was certain it was a boy, a little playmate for wee Jamie, but she’d said the same thing about Maggie and Claire felt no pull one way or another. Because it would be wonderful, either way. She never had any of this growing up. Only her parents for a bit and then it was just her and Uncle Lamb. But Faith would never know what that was like. She’d have her aunt and uncle and, if their growing brood was any indication of the future, an abundance of cousins to keep her company. Not to mention Murtagh and Fergus and…

Claire leaned back in Jamie’s arms and tilted up to kiss his jaw where a bit of stubble already scratched at her lips. Yes, maybe someday… another baby or two. Not twelve, she thought wryly, but three sounded reasonable enough.

The rhythm of life at Lallybroch felt all too soothing after the double lives they’d lived in Paris and here, in Jamie’s ancestral estate, a wall came down in both of them, knowing there wasn’t anyone here they needed to guard themselves from.

“The next Quarter Day is in a few weeks. It’ll be good tae have Jamie here to oversee the books for that. And o’ course to help Ian and the rest of the men with the potato crop soon.” Jenny shook out a sheet before hanging it on the clothesline. Claire and Jamie had fallen right into step with the daily goings on and Jenny wasted no time expecting them to keep up.

Claire eyed the potato field apprehensively. It had been on her recommendation, after all, that Jenny and Ian had planted a whole crop that had never once been native to this region and if it didn’t yield a good bounty for them, she may have set them up to fare even worse in the coming famine.  

“Ye ken Mrs. Crook could help wi’ wee Faith ‒ mind her throughout the day as she does wi’ my bairns. Ye dinna always need to do it all yerself.”

At Jenny’s words, Claire’s hands fell instinctively to Faith’s little form bundled up in a wrap secured to Claire’s body. Snug and sleepy after her last feeding, Faith hadn’t made a peep since they stepped outside to do the laundry. ��I know.” Claire said softly. “But I don’t mind having her with me.” She peered under the cloth to see Faith had indeed fallen asleep and the sight of her baby’s sleeping face had some unnamed relief washing through her.

“Jamie told me how it was.” Jenny said carefully. She tugged a large sark of Ian’s into place on the clothesline and arranged it neatly. “Told me how sickly Faith was when she was born. I ken that’s why ye worry over her so much.”

Claire gave Jenny a small smile in acknowledgement of her words and reached for the next article to hang on the line. “Did you feel that way when wee Jamie was born?”

“Oh, aye. I did worry over him. Ye always do over the first one, I think. No matter if they’re healthy or no’. But he was an easy bairn, even if the delivery was long. I dinna ken what it’s like, what ye went through with Faith, but the most scairt I’ve ever been was with my Maggie, when she wouldn’t come and well… ye ken, ye were there for that.”

“Yes,” Claire settled one hand on Faith as she worked, unnecessary as it was with the baby secured well. “I don’t think either of us will forget that any time soon.”

“These bairns like to make their entrance memorable, that’s for sure.” Jenny caught her gaze and smiled warmly. “Ye’re doing just fine, Claire. I’ve never seen my brother so happy. To have a bairn of his own… well, it does him good to be a father and it does my heart good to see it.”

“Thank you, Jenny. About‒ about Quarter Day and the harvest and… all of it really, I don’t‒ that is‒” Claire took a deep breath, tried to smile as she fumbled through this. Jenny watched her expectantly, pausing in her work. “The first time Jamie brought me here, we thought it would be for good, but you and I got off on a bumpy start and I felt then that I needed to rise to the challenge of being Lady Broch Turach, but now…” Claire gave a small shrug. “I can admit I don’t know anything still about running a house such as this, but I want to learn. And I don’t want to step on your toes, either, when you’ve run this place so flawlessly. I mean, this is your home and you’ve‒”    

“Tis your home, too.” Jenny interrupted, though not unkindly and stating this so matter-of-factly. Claire hesitated, always caught a little off-guard by Jenny Fraser Murray. “I didna ken what to make of ye when Jamie first brought ye home.” She added with a tinge of reluctance in her voice and Claire knew that was about as close as she might get to an apology for how their relationship started. “But ye’re a good woman, Claire. Ye love my brother, that’s plain as day. And ye’ve given him something that has made him whole.” Her gaze flicked down to the outline of Faith and she flashed Claire a quick smile. “I’m happy to share this place with ye.” She said at last, rescuing Claire from the request she’d been struggling to get out.  

Claire exhaled a smile and felt her roots burrow a little deeper into the soil.

October 1744

“Big day, Faith.” Claire said sweetly to her baby, despite the apprehensive flutters in her stomach. “I think your uncle and da are going to harvest the potatoes.” She settled five-month-old Faith in the middle of the large bed. Freshly cleaned and diapered, Faith was happy as a lark, cooing loudly back at Claire to find her own voice in their conversation.

“Say your prayers that it’s the best crop of potatoes ever yielded, little darling. Because if not, it’s Mama’s reputation that’s on the line.” Claire tugged open a drawer where they kept all of Faith’s items, tiny and delicate enough that her dresses, nightgowns, stockings, bonnets, and blankets only filled the one drawer. Her hands stilled in their rummage through the wardrobe, falling to a soft pair of warm, brown stockings Claire hadn’t seen before. She picked one up and turned it over delicately. They were clearly hand-knit and meant for Faith, surreptitiously placed among her clothing and blankets.

“Here, darling, these look nice and warm.” Claire turned to where she’d left Faith lying on the mattress. The baby hadn’t yet mastered rolling over, but Jenny had advised Claire to savor these moments while they lasted before Faith was completely mobile and would require constant supervision. “Looks like your auntie made these for you.” She slid one onto Faith’s foot and up her leg. “And a perfect fit, too.” She carried on for the reward of another happy coo from the baby, all too content to be part of a conversation.

She dressed Faith in enough layers to keep out the Autumn chill and still grabbed a wool blanket for good measure. “And last but not least…” Claire slipped a white bonnet onto Faith’s head, a little dismayed to cover up the silky, copper strands of Faith’s downy-like hair. She paused, leaning over her babe, who stared up at her and kicked her legs when Claire returned her gaze.

A memory came to her then, unbidden, of a conversation in this very room that occurred almost a year ago now; her confession to Jamie of her once held belief that they could never have children. The evidence to the contrary now lay before her, face breaking open into a smile that reverberated through the baby’s whole body, little arms and legs flailing, and Claire felt suddenly overwhelmed. Their wee girl, a fulfillment of so many dreams. She had healed Claire’s heart just by existing.

So Claire scooped her up, pressing kisses to the baby’s feather-soft cheek. “I could smother you with kisses and it’d never be enough.” She admitted to the baby, feeling a few tears spill quietly down her face. “I love you so much.” She knew she couldn’t just sit with these feelings, with this miracle baby in her arms, or she’d never make it out of the room today. So she wiped her tears and pressed another kiss to Faith’s brow for good measure. “Let’s go find Da, alright?”

They found Jamie with Ian and Fergus and a few of the men standing at the base of the potato field. Fergus stood at Jamie’s elbow and hung on every word of what appeared to be a discussion of timing for when to harvest the potatoes. It had never been done before at Lallybroch and being a root vegetable, it was anyone’s guess as to when the plant might be ready.

Jamie was the first to notice her approaching and he broke away from the group to meet her, smiling broadly.

“What’s the verdict?” She asked as he stole Faith from her. She missed the solid weight of the girl, but Jamie with their babe was a sight she never tired of.

Jamie sighed in response to her question and gave Faith a hearty kiss on the cheek before answering. “Ian is consulting his book. It isna exactly clear though.”

She slipped an arm around his waist and stood flush against his side, savoring his warmth and the way he blocked the wind for her. He shifted Faith high against his chest, her weight supported on one of his arms. In the transfer, her blanket began to unbundle from around her and her little feet kicked out the bottom, clad in her stockings and soft slippers. Jamie’s fingers tugged the blanket down and around her feet without looking, though Claire noticed he stopped when he felt the baby’s stockings and tilted his head to the side to try and catch a glimpse of them. He looked rather pleased and Claire wondered if he knew who the mysterious gifter was.

“I think Jenny made those.” She said. “They look handmade, at least, and I only just found them today among Faith’s things.” When she glanced up at Jamie, he was giving her an odd look. “What?”

“Jenny didna make those. I did.”  

Claire worked hard to school her surprise at this, but her glass face probably showed this all too clearly to her husband. “You know how to knit?”

Now it was Jamie’s turn to look mildly surprised, though he hid it well and finally gave her a soft, gracious smile. “Every man, woman, and child old enough to hold the needles can knit, Sassenach. Dinna tell me no one kens how to clickit in your time.”

“Well, no, people still knit where I’m from. I just... never learned. Would‒ would you teach me?” She asked, a little embarrassed. A full smile bloomed on Jamie’s face and he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead before he answered her.

“Aye, I’ll teach ye.” He straightened, looking again very pleased. “It’ll be a good time to learn when we’re inside for the long winter.”

Claire’s eyes dropped to the little brown stocking peeking out slightly from under the blanket. She toyed with the fabric gently. “They’re beautifully made, Jamie. And they fit her perfectly.” She cocked her head up at him. “When on earth did you have time to make these?”

He ducked from her glance and bounced the baby in his arms. “Weel ye ken as well as I that this lass doesna sleep much since we subjected her to sea travel, a frightfully long wagon ride to Lallybroch, and then a new home.”

“It was a lot all at once.” Claire agreed, eyeing him curiously. They hadn’t had close to a good night’s sleep since Paris, but it was still too fresh in both of their minds how lucky they were to even have a baby keeping them up at night for them to mind the sleeplessness too much.

“And ye ken of course that she willna fall asleep unless you or I hold her.”

Claire chewed her lip and nodded. She knew it was unusual in her time at least to be so wrapped up in a child. But what would surely be labeled as “coddling” then felt anything but that here, especially in an era where infant mortality was dreadfully high. Still, somehow the virtues of another time occasionally plagued Claire, making her second guess if 20th century parents and experts really understood what it meant to know the child of your heart was alive and well and crying out to be held and only the comfort of your embrace could soothe them. In that moment, it didn’t feel like she and Jamie were doing anything but loving their child.

“Well,” Jamie continued. “Lately when it’s my turn wi’ the lass, I know she’ll sleep as long as I hold her and if I put her down too soon, she’ll wake all over again. So I started bringing the knitting needles out when I settle in the chair wi’ her. Gives me something to do while I wait for her to sleep soundly enough.”

Claire could see it suddenly, her husband sitting up in the middle of the night with the baby asleep on his shoulder, passed out from the warmth that he could so easily envelop her in, while he knit her a pair of stockings. Christ, he probably held it up to her tiny legs to compare while he worked and that would explain why they fit Faith like a glove. The thought made her want to weep for all the love she felt for him and all the tenderness and care he bestowed upon her and their babe.

He must’ve read it all there in her face because Jamie smiled suddenly and bent to kiss her.

“Does it bother your hand at all?” She thought with sudden concern. It had been the better part of a year since his right hand had been mutilated and though he’d made great lengths in his recovery, it wasn’t completely painless and Claire feared it might always bother him.

“No, Sassenach, it doesna hurt. My fingers do get a bit stiff if I hold the needle too long, but it doesna hurt.” She realized her brows must still be furrowed in concern because he bent and kissed her there as if to soothe her. “Besides, it gets awful cold here in the winter and Faith is so wee. What kind of Da would I be if I didna provide her with warm enough clothes?”

He seemed to think this all perfectly reasonable and nodded sharply in the direction of the men to indicate that they should return to them, putting any talk of his knitting habits to rest for now.

He moved with surety to rejoin the men, Faith still tucked in one arm. His free hand came to rest automatically on Fergus’s thin shoulder when he reached the group and Claire didn’t miss the look of awe on Fergus’s face that this simple act gave him.            

Ian still held open his book, A Scientific Treatise on Methods of Farming, by Sir Walter O’Bannion Reilly, and was busy skimming pages. He smiled grimly at Jamie and shook his head.

“Ah.” Jamie muttered. “A whole book on the scientific farming of potatoes and no mention of how ye tell when the bloody things are ready to eat.”

Ian snapped the book shut and let it rest against his side. Fergus glanced between the two of them and finally spoke up. “Why don’t you just dig one up and see?” He asked.

Jamie stared at Fergus for a moment. His mouth gaped open until he suddenly snapped it shut and clapped Fergus affectionately on the shoulder. Jamie then carefully transferred Faith back into Claire’s arms and went to fetch a pitchfork from its place against the fence. The men pushed in behind him ‒ as did Claire, holding her breath all the while ‒ as Jamie chose a flourishing vine near the edge of the field and dug the pitchfork in near the root.

He pushed the handle down and away, uprooting the vine in one swift motion. More bodies pushed in, staring curiously at the dirt-caked potatoes clinging to the roots. Ian fell to his knees with surprising ease for one wooden leg and began to loosen the dirt around the potatoes, spouting enough shouts of excitement over the results of his labor that the breath Claire had been holding left her in a rush of relief.

Her gaze met Jamie’s and a smile bloomed just for him. Their work in Paris may have been a bitter disappointment, but maybe this… yes, maybe this work they could do.

They called for a feast with the tenants of Lallybroch to celebrate the wealth of their new potato crop. In no time at all, Jenny had orchestrated their outdoor supper, roasting the potatoes and, at Fergus’s suggestion, supplying them with a heaping of fresh butter.

Their new Highland cuisine was met with first suspicion and then varying tastes for it once the roasted potatoes had been given a chance. But none of that could steal away Claire’s joy, knowing what was to come. And if the famine did come, no one would thumb their nose at these potatoes then. These folks would be safe.  

The evening was chilly but windless and as the sun began its slow crawl toward the horizon, the fire was built up to a roaring blaze that they all naturally flocked to.

Claire had gone into the farmhouse to feed and change Faith and returned to their party as it was growing darker. The firelight cast an orange glow on the faces of those gathered around.

“Auntie!” Wee Jamie screamed when he saw her, running out to meet her. She saw only the dark outline of him moving in the grass.

“Yes, love?”

But wee Jamie only held out his hand to escort her back to the fire. She anchored Faith on one hip and reached for the little boy’s hand.

“You are just like your namesake, aren’t you? Such a gentleman.”

The boy caught his uncle’s gaze from where he sat in the grass, sandwiched between Fergus and Ian. Jamie nodded approvingly and the young boy shot a beaming smile up at Claire.

“I want to hold the baby.” The boy said, before Claire had even reached a spot on the grass.

“You can, just wait and I’ll help you.” She carefully lowered herself to a spot near the fire and stretched her legs out in front of her, adjusting her skirt with one hand as she did. Wee Jamie was waiting, gently stamping his feet in the grass next to her. “Come here, you.” She said finally and helped him into her lap. Faith was bundled up in a thick blanket so it made it easy to pass the bundle of her into little Jamie’s lap. Claire clasped her hands in front around the both of them and sighed contently.

The fire was warm and the company of their tenants created a rousing atmosphere with stories and laughter and even some singing. Claire fell into rapt silence, becoming an observer to it all.

But Faith began to fuss, even with Claire helping to bounce her and wee Jamie in her lap. “I’m done holding her.” Jamie said suddenly, his little arms slithering out from under Faith.

“Alright, alright, hold on.” Claire’s one-handed grip on Faith tightened and she pulled the baby off of Jamie’s lap. But the boy had no desire to leave his auntie’s lap, effectively pinning her in place as he leaned his head back against her chest and yawned.

She caught her husband’s approach from the corner of her eye and crouched down next to her, pressing a kiss to her hard. “I’ll walk wi’ her, Sassenach, and see if that will calm her. You’ve got your hands full wi’ our nephew.”

“That I do.” She agreed. When he lifted Faith from her arm, she brushed his shoulder gently before he rose to his feet. Freed of one small body occupying her lap, she slid her hands under the boy’s armpits and recentered young Jamie in her lap and folded her legs in. He curled in, his head pillowed against her chest, and her arms went about his small form to secure him there. “Better?” She teased him affectionately.

“Yes, Auntie.” He answered in all seriousness. She exhaled a quiet laugh and dropped a kiss to his hair, which smelled of campfire smoke. She could see he was watching the fire, hypnotized by the flames and likely to fall asleep on her before too long, and he was a comforting weight in her arms, anchoring her to the ground.

“You know,” She said lightly. “I rather like having you as my nephew.”

Wee Jamie tipped his head up and smiled mischievously, like she’d let him in on a secret. “I like ye, Auntie Claire.” He said plainly.

“Good, I’m glad.” She smiled. “Lay your head, sweet boy. I know you’re tired.”

She rocked slightly with him and glanced about, happy to see the tenants all enjoying themselves but looking for their laird in particular. She spotted him a little ways back from the fire, standing in place with Faith in his arms, but Fergus was with them, too, popping out from behind Jamie’s back to make a face at Faith every few seconds. It was eighteenth century peek-a-boo but Claire doubted they called it that. She did watch the three of them, though, and wonder how far back that game had endured through the centuries.

Jamie smiled broadly and jounced Faith slightly every time Fergus popped around at his elbow. She couldn’t see Faith’s reaction to this, but if Jamie’s and Fergus’s faces were any indication, their girl was far from fussy now. Claire’s gaze lingered on the bright face of Fergus, playing sweetly with the babe. He had blossomed at Lallybroch in the month that they’d been back, growing accustomed to a quiet, country life with ease. He played with Rabbie and helped with the horses and always, always shadowed every step of Jamie’s.

She had noticed, too, a marked change in how Jamie interacted with the boy since he returned to them a few months ago. There was an added protectiveness over Fergus and no short amount of affection for him. Yes, the mark of fatherhood on Jamie Fraser was evident for anyone to see and it extended far beyond Faith.  

Jamie caught her gaze suddenly and her stomach fluttered. She gave him a smile and hoped to convey in it how much she loved this moment in time with him.  

The sun was setting low in the sky, burning deep orange at the horizon with streaks of pink and purple fading up to the blue. Jamie had gone searching for his wife and found Claire in the garden and laced their fingers together before walking out toward the nearest field behind the farmhouse. He didn’t say a word, but she thought she knew he was leading her out on a sunset walk. The evening was too beautiful to waste and the desire simply to be in each other’s company hadn’t dimmed in their year and a half of marriage. The baby was napping inside the farmhouse and under the care of her auntie for the time being. They ambled along through the heather, their strides fairly matched, and Claire tucked herself a little closer to him when the breeze picked up.

He dropped her hand in favor then of tucking her under one arm and her own went around his waist and squeezed him. It wasn’t a position that lent itself well to walking side-by-side, but they’d reached the small crest of a hill and paused against the fencing to stare out at the setting sun casting golden light on the whole estate of Lallybroch.

“So beautiful, it should be a painting.” Claire finally broke the spell of silence. Jamie made a sound of agreement. She looked up at him but his gaze was on the scene before them. The angle of light cut across his strong features, made him look more like the viking than usual, strong and tall and proud, observing his kingdom. He looked content, too, not just today, but every day since they’d come back to Scotland. To his home. Jamie was laird here and that was no small thing to him, Claire knew. A laird and soldier, husband and father… he carried his responsibility without question or hesitation and it wasn’t any wonder why so many people trusted him and relied on him. What was a wonder to Claire was that he was only twenty-three.

Jamie cast a glance down suddenly and she felt her cheeks grow warm at being caught. Claire ducked and kissed his shoulder softly but found him still waiting her out when she  glanced back up at him. His fingers were at her temple suddenly, tucking a few wayward wisps of hair behind her ear before tilting her chin up further. “Ye do look so bonny this evening, Sassenach.” He said with a smile before he stole a kiss from her. “What’s troubling you?”

She let out a mirthless chuckle. “How do you always do that?”

“Ye canna hide anything from me with your face.” He teased her.

“I was just thinking… if… if we didn’t succeed in Paris and the rising still begins‒”

“We willna have any part of it.” Jamie cut in firmly. His arm around her tightened instinctively. “I wish… God, I wish I kent for sure that we’d changed things from how ye remember them in your time. I dinna want the slaughter of my countrymen. But if it does come, I mean to keep us all safe and away from it.”

Claire sighed and tucked herself against him, feeling an odd swirl of relief and dread at the same time. They did what they could, but so much of what she knew of history felt too powerful for them to steer on their own. “You seem happy here at Lallybroch… are you?” She asked suddenly, pulling back to look up at him.

“Happy to stay here, ye mean?” Jamie clarified and did a sweep of the land. “Well, it’s home, Sassenach. And I’m the laird so I should be here, but…” He cocked an eyebrow at her curiously. “It’s not an exciting life. It can’t offer ye the society of Paris or the large surgeries you’ve worked in.”

“I could do well without the society of Paris.” She said dryly. “And it’s… it’s different than what I’ve known before, but there is work for me here. God knows you injure yourself enough to keep me busy no matter where we are. I’m sure between you and all the tenant families here, I’ll have my hands full.”

“And ye’ll have your wee garden.” He added, referring to the stretch of ground that he’d recently marked out for her to be able to plant her wee herbs, come Spring.

“I will.” She reached up on tiptoes to kiss him along his jaw, feeling the scratch of stubble on her lips. “And I am Lady Broch Turach, after all. This is my place, too.”

“Aye, it is.” She caught his all-too-pleased look before his kiss was pushing every other thought out of her mind and there was only Jamie in her arms and on her lips.

She startled when he held her by the waist and lifted her up onto the fence post as though she weighed nothing. “Jamie!” Unperturbed by her outcry, he stepped between her thighs and cupped her face in his hands. She had to hold fast to him to keep herself steady. “Jamie. We’re on a hill. Any one of your tenants could step out of their home and see us up here.”

“Dinna fash, Sassenach.” He teased with a smile. “I dinna intend to let anyone see ye in any matter of indecency. Least of all our tenants, my Lady Broch Turach.” He kissed her then, a dizzying distraction to any argument she might’ve made. “It’s only that ye look so beautiful out here wi’ the sun in your brown hair.” He paused and then smiled softly. “Mo nighean donn.” He added for emphasis. His brown-haired lass. “Aye, ye look like you belong here. Like you’ve always been a part of this place, somehow. And I just needed to kiss you for it.”

She felt a sudden lump in her throat at his words and, forgetting her previous self-consciousness, pulled him back in, needing to kiss him for it.

[sleepykittypaws]

No Sleep ‘Til Christmas

Original Air Date: December 10, 2018 (Freeform) Where to Watch?: Freeform will air it several times this season, and it’s also available to watch on their app (cable login required) or on Hulu

I really liked Freeform’s first movie of the season, The Truth About Christmas, and my family watched the original Life-Size in November and was looking forward to the Christmas-themed sequel, but after 20 minutes of the off-putting, unfunny and boring Life-Size 2 we bailed and moved on to No Sleep ’Til Christmas and, while it was somewhat better than Life-Size 2, in that we watched the whole thing, that’s a pretty low bar.

The cast here is great, which accounts for why we stuck it out. Real-life husband and wife Dave and Odette Annabelle have, not surprisingly, great chemistry and the rest of players, including Sheryl Lee Ralph, were all really good, and doing their very best to be funny. But, the problem is that while they were valiantly trying to make this weird story a fun, fizzy, frolic it’s…Not. At all.

So much here is played for laughs that’s just not even a little bit humorous, and while Odette in real life is probably lovely, her character was just a truly terrible and thoughtless human being and all of her awfulness was played as a silly lark, as if we were supposed to be charmed by her complete and total selfishness. 

For instance, she meets fellow insomniac Billy, played by her husband, by hitting him with her car while driving around in the wee hours wearing sunglasses…As some sort of sleep aid? Not only is the (likely actually horrific and totally her fault) accident played for laughs, but it becomes a running gag in the movie that she blames him, the pedestrian, for the crash. Attempted manslaughter…What a gas. They so commit to this bit that it’s also actually the ending, and we’re supposed to think it’s sweet when she (spoiler alert) runs him down again, this time in a car she stole when abandoning her own wedding. Uhhhhhh…Nope.

The idea that these two can sleep only when (platonically) next to each other, even mere minutes after meeting, is never, ever explored. Nor is that he likely has a head injury because HE WAS HIT BY A CAR. Like, I get that the idea is they are destined for one another, but the movie itself doesn’t even seem to want to show us that. It’s not like they talk or bond or anything; it’s just car accident + weird brief banter = sleep. It’s really sold almost as if it’s some sort of magic, not love, that’s bonding these two.

We’re supposed to think her mother-in-law is a monster stressing her out but, really, while overbearing about wedding details, she seems happy to welcome Odette into her family and extends many an olive branch, all while Odette grows ever more hysterical. Despite the movie’s best attempts, I was #TeamMom all the way. 

I was also, you know, #TeamFiance. A hunky, adoring and considerate surgeon, who not only still wants to marry her after finding she’s been sleeping (literal sleep) with another man, he’s not even mad when she ditches him at the alter in front of hundreds of their friends in perhaps the worst, ‘I don’t,’ run-out-of-a-wedding scene, ever. 

Not that those are ever good, because, in case this needs to be said…It is never, ever romantic to ditch your nuptials for another fella. I mean, congrats: You’re a monster. But this chick? Wow. She really takes the terribleness cake.

She fell asleep during their vows, then dumped him at the alter, then stopped to chat to her Maid of Honor about her sex life, then, walking back down the aisle, stopped to ask where the guy she really loved went. All still in front of her now, never-to-be husband’s family and friends. And, as a capper, she steals a car and once again runs over the “lucky” guy she really loves. This is all played for laughs and we are, I’m pretty sure, supposed to be rooting for her. (Seriously, though, this is a happy ending for the fiance, who dodged a real bullet here.)

To really cap the hate-fest, they then cut to a “One Year Later” epilogue scene where she and Billy are just getting ready for bed, happy together and just as they close their eyes, a baby cries in the distance. Ha, ha, ha! Get it? Now they can’t sleep cause they’re parents.

Did anyone do the math on this? Because what this means is that, within weeks of running out of her wedding, stealing a car and running over her supposed true love, for the second time, Billy knocks her up, and they’re parents within the year?!?!? That's not a rom-com; it’s a horror story about two of the worst people in the world, and now you’ve brought a kid into it.

There are other, similarly, rude/condescending moments played for laughs, like when she confronts Billy’s best friends, who she met mere minutes before, about not being married and says, in front of the couple's daughter, ‘You don’t need a certificate to have the s-e-x.’ What the hell, lady? (This is also about two minutes before she pretends not to know them while they’re gamely trying to bolster her web of lies.) Like, I could care if people are married or not. My Aunt and Uncle have two grown boys and have been “shacking up,” as they call it, for almost 40 years now. Their marital status is occasionally joked about in the family, but never once has anyone commented about it in reference to their sex life—because we are not HORRIBLE MONSTER GARBAGE PEOPLE, unlike this awful character.

I actually really love the aggressively un-Hallmark-like diversity. People in Freeform movies don’t have to be married, or straight, or white, and all of that is incredibly refreshing and welcome, but it would also be great if those folks weren’t presented so badly. Maybe, as in real life, they could just be people living their lives, like we all are?

There are plenty of other uh-what’s-that-again moments, like how Billy rented a space and opened a bar in under two weeks. (Not a thing.) Or how someone working as an event planner somehow has enough scratch to fully fund such an enterprise, which would take half a million dollars, at the bare minimum. And how he’s “earning” that money by sleeping, platonically, alongside her at all hours of the day and night in a swanky hotel room, but she’s also worried about the minibar tab he might rack up? Or when she totally reneges on their deal, to placate her rightfully angry fiance, taking away the one good thing Billy has in his life, his new miracle bar, without a single hesitation. Or, hey, how about that casually tossed out, and then totally ignored, plot line where Billy is a raging alcoholic, and that’s probably what’s fueling his insomnia? Ha, ha…What a hoot.

Basically, NOTHING in this movie makes even a lick of sense. Rarely have actors so affable gathered together to play people so awful, and not seem to even realize it. They think they’re the story’s heroes, but they’re really villains and, sure, that can be interesting as a choice in a certain type of film, but not in what is supposed to be a light, fun Christmas movie. 

It’s not the crazy plot I object to, at all, as I truly love a completely crazy Christmas romp (Holiday in Handcuffs and Holiday Switch are among my favorite made-for-TV Christmas movies ever), but I think the key here isn’t the story’s weirdness, it’s that the characters never realize that they’re acting awfully. There was never that turn where they saw how terrible they were being. And the stuff with the alocholism thrown out there as a quite serious moment and then never brought up again? Wow. Yeah. No. Even if it makes total realistic and logical sense from what we’ve seen, you can’t go there in a movie like this. That is…A very, very different type of film indeed.

The truly unfortunate part is that Freeform’s movies have infinitely better casts and production budgets than either Lifetime or Hallmark, and I bet this one movie cost more than all of UP TV’s and ION’s put together, but, geez, what a tremendous waste of a talented cast and a not totally terrible concept (at least they took a shot at something different, which I absolutely appreciate), but the sensibility here could not be more wrong.

Final Judgement: 1Paw Up for its huge potential and great cast, and no paws at all for this story’s actual execution.