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the-life-we-fear · 4 years

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ALEXANDER JAMES MCTAVISH MCNAIR’S PAST (1720-1730)

Jus’ A Wee Barren

Born in an old stables in Inverness, right next to his father’s favorite horse sleeping off the ride from the town, Alexander Mcnair was born. First of his name in the Mcnair family but a blessing to Sophie and Rupert. Alex was born with fiery red hair that curled just out of his mother’s womb and his soul was just as fiery. For the first ten years of wee Alex’s life, his mother often found him setting ‘accidental’ fires to stable houses, falling off backs of horses by riding on them improperly, and running around the McNair estate gripping his father’s dirk. His mother would follow him around the house knitting their next blanket for the harsh winter’s to come and to bring to their stay at Caslte Leoch for the winter.

Alex looked forward to winter’s most since he was able to practice swords with his uncle Robert and sampling the whiskey Robert used to sneak for him as well. Life was good in Scotland for his family until three months after the Winter’s Crest.

His father and wee Alex were returning home one day after transferring the crops Rupert nursed the week before to sell for money for the tenants when they came home to their door kicked open and two British Solider’s posted outside the house. His father was outraged since the only people in the house without Alex and himself was Sophie and their kitchen maid Iris. Despite the two soldiers posted outside their house, Rupert stormed in leaving young Alex outside staring at the wood scattered all over their front stairs. Iris screamed from the inside as a crash echoed through the house. And then a window broke. Broke from the sound of gunfire inside the house. Alex’s skin went cold. He may have been a young child, but he heard the stories from his father and other children of the British entering the homes of Scottish townsfolk and taking what they want because god knows why.

After what felt like hours, Rupert’s body was dragged out of the house and lain in front of Alex. It wasn’t till his mother was pushed out after, tears streaming her face and then pushed to the ground in front of Alex did he fall to his own knees. One of the soldiers posted outside stepped behind him and placed their hand on his shoulder almost as to console him for what he was about to see. Just at the age of ten. And with one quick shot, his mother lay on the dirt next to his father. The Solider’s didn’t give their reasons for raiding his home, nor did they think it was necessary to a young Scottish child.

Life at Leoch Castle(1730-1740)

Alex’s things were transported to his Uncle’s home, well what he wanted to bring there which was just a couple of his father’s kilts, nightshirts, sword and dirk. Everything else was left behind for Robert to deal with. When Alex arrived to Castle Leoch, he learned that he had two other Uncles who were bastards, Etherial and Jared had joined the Castle’s men.They weren’t too much older than him, just turned 18 when Alex came to stay at the castle. They were the men who taught this wee Scotsman to be a Solider who would soon fight for his fellow Scotsmen to be free, free from the British.

In the mornings of the castle, he would join Jared out in the stables to begin tending to the horses. They would brush, feed, tame, and if Alex was lucky, take the horse out for a ride out in the fields in the back of the castle.

During the first Winter-festival living in the Castle, Alex made friends with the Cooks daughter, Celeste. Beautiful, long, blonde hair that glowed in the sunlight. They met when Alex’s Uncle’s first son, Tomas invited him to sit at the table with Celeste and a few other lads at the time. Alex was 12 sitting at the table with a bunch of 16 year old lads and lasses, but the only sophisticated one was Celeste. Alex learned that Celeste and Tomas would be wed once they came of age, and the two of them were always infatuated with each other when the other was around. But Alex got closer to Celeste rather than Tomas. They were always found running around the castle, sneaking food to take up to the fields to lay in and just talk about the future. A possible future where the British didn’t have a part in Scotland's life.

Tomas even got jealous one day, watching Alex and Celeste run up to the stables instead of heading into the town when the three where teenagers, 16 years of age, and challenged the red head to a duel in the field after dinner. Alex tried to explain to Tomas that his intention wasn’t to steal Celeste from him. But Tomas still wanted to duel. So the two of them scarfed down their dinner, and rushed out to the field, swords at hand and began their duel. Celeste, Etherial, and Jared were the only ones present. It was a sloppy fight, the boys were stumbling over their feet, slicing each other on the arms, the legs, and the chest. Nothing to make either man scar. In the end, Alex won, but only because Tomas yielded. After that day, Alex made it a point to get better at fighting, and by the age of 18, he was fighting in his first war.

It wasn’t a large one, but it was against the British. It was a war that broke out because a Scotsman fought back against a group of British troops because they barged in, ransacked the place, had their way with the man’s 20 year old daughter, and left them for dead. This was something Alex wanted to stand behind, since he wanted this to stop. This was the war he chose to fight in. One that got 18 year old Alex captured. He wasn’t afraid. He was determined to show those British that he wasn’t going to lay down and take what they threw at him. Even when a British officer gave him 200 lashes over the span of three days, scaring him for life. But those scars would make him fight longer and harder for Scotland’s freedom.

Scars that Would Wound the Soul (1740-1742)

Life went on after a group of Robert’s men stormed the prison where Alex was being held and rescued him. They nursed him back to health on the way back to the castle which was a good two day’s ride. His back hurt him the most, but like the day it happened, he pushed his pain aside and stayed strong, even through the bumpy trip back to the castle. After that, he trained and trained even when he was hurting to become the man he was when he met Her.

At the age of 20, Alex was on a hunting trip with Etherial, Jared, Tomas, and a couple other men to collect the meet for the next week when they stumbled upon a woman. She was sitting by the side of the road, dress torn, singed in a couple of places, and holding her arms to her chest. She looked young, about the same age of Alex, and all of the men agreed to take her back to the castle. She was quiet the whole way to the castle, but that didn’t stop Alex from trying to make conversation with her. Once back at the castle, Alex offered to take the lass to see Mary, to get her new clothes and to get a good meal into her. That was when the woman told him her name. Liana Springs. Her hair was long, with different shades of brown throughout it’s wavy strands. Strands that smelled like peaches, even through the smell of ash that stained her clothes.

As she got settled into the castle, she spent more time with Alex, even helped him out in the stables from time to time. She sooner opened up that when they found her, her house had just burned down, leaving he the only survivor. They grew closer because of that. Liana even grew closer to Celeste while doing the cooking, cleaning, and picking of herbs for the kitchen to use. They grew to be sisters.

It wasn’t until six months of Liana being in the castle, did Celeste catch Alex gazing at her from across the room in the dinning hall, not being able to look away from her. Though it was returned from Liana’s side. Then came that year’s Winter’s Crest, where Alex stood in front of everyone and proposed himself to Liana, vowing to protect her, love her, and be by her side in whatever situation life put her through, and she accepted.

They spent the next year and a half they grew inseparable. There wasn’t a moment they weren’t together. She began to go on trips with the men since she was able to prove her ability to take care of herself, taking down a bull that was racing towards Tomas once. If they weren’t right by each other's side, they were near, gazing at each other so much that Celeste began to poke fun at the two of them every chance she got.

But it wasn’t all easy for them. Liana had disappeared sometimes in the night, and Alex found her coming back two hours later sneaking back into the quarters. At first, he thought it was just her wanting to get some air, but it wasn’t after a night of love making did he catch a glimpse of blood on her nightshirt. He confronted her about it, checking her skin for any wounds but found any, but she still had a small blood smell to her. That was when she admitted to him that she wasn’t human. That she was in fact a Telepathic Vampire. At first Alex was shocked, but she hadn’t caused anyone harm in the castle, and he trusted her. Never had she shown any sort of danger with the time she lived there with him. He also heard stories of mythical creatures walking the lands, creatures that feasted on human blood, and wolves that change into beautiful women the next. He actually found the idea of it beautiful. So he did not shun her for it. But it wasn’t until Celeste was out with Tomas one night that she found Liana sneaking off to feed did she grow suspicious. Celeste confronted her the next day and was demanding that she explain to her what was going on. So Liana did, but she made her promise that no one else would know of her. But that secrecy didn’t last for long.

One night when Liana decided to feed, she was found by Etherial, Jared, and a few men who had chased Robert’s dog in the direction of where Liana was feeding, and found her covered in blood, with her teeth sunk in a deer. They rushed back, not recognizing the girl that Alex had fallen in love with, to report what they saw to Robert, who immediately in the middle of the night called to speak with Alex.

Robert was afraid for his people, Alex understood that. But now more people knew of Liana’s true self. And that terrified Alex. Talk already was spreading around the castle of what she was. This was a week before Alex and Liana were to be wed. Alex was able to calm Roberts fears and he agreed to let them both stay.

That whole week Liana was distant, barley talking to Celeste or either Alex, even on the nights they were alone. It wasn’t until the night before their wedding did Liana truly speak to him. That night they fell asleep in eachother’s arms, crying from the words that were spoken that night. But those tears wouldn’t be the last for Alex for the years to come.

The next day, Alex woke to an empty bed and a note set on the bed side. She had left. Left in fear of how many knew of her secret. In fear that one day, she would hurt the family she grew into. So she left to protect. To protect him most of all.

Fighting for A Scot(1742-1745)

After Liana’s departure, Alex grew distant even towards Celeste. Spending most of his time out in the stables, taking all of his meals there. That lasted for three years until he was called to fight in the Battle of Colluden. He fought long and hard, but they still lost the battle. Some Scotts were killed after the battle, but those that accepted the defeat were spared. So Alex, Jared, Tomas, were hired, a long with a few other men to be at the service to Irish and British families that needed their help.

His heart never stopped aching. It ached for the memory of Liana, and for the loss of his countrymen. But that wouldn’t stop him for fighting for the ones he loved. Supernatural or human.

#Alex Speaks #Alex's Story

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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

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From the Ashes, Ch 8

Wanna read this on Archive? Click here.

The shopping trip was a success. Asher rediscovered his love of cyberpunk, and he looked like an extra out of Akira . After he and Cinn had lunch at the food court, much to Edge’s dismay, everyone piled into Edge’s Jaguar, and they were off.

“You both have such nice cars,” Asher marveled a bit.

“Don’t compare my brother’s hunk of junk to my marvel of nature!” Edge frowned a little.

“Listen ‘ere, that Pontiac took me an entire year to restore. I’d like to see ya try it,” Cinn smirked.

“That’s not fair! You know I’m not a tinkerer like you!” Edge protested.

“Then quit throwin’ shade at my baby. She’s perfect the way she is, save fer a little dust from this one,” he nudged Asher with his elbow.

“Oh, sorry,” Asher apologized; Cinn shook his head. “I’m just jokin’, princey. It’ll be alright. ‘S a memory, that’s for sure.”

A memory, huh…

“This may be a bit of a drive, so feel free to fall asleep,” Edge remarked, adjusting his mirrors a bit before driving off.

“You got it, bro.”

“I’m not talking to you! I need your help with the directions! The place doesn’t appear on my map apps, since it’s technically a closed business.”

“Yeah, alright. Make a left, then stay on 64 for about 10 miles.”

Asher slowly sunk into the Jaguar’s leather seats. He hadn’t realized how tired he was. The shopping trip had left him completely drained.

Asher was in the community garden; the sun was slowly coming up. Dew dotted all of the leaves, and the tulips were lazily opening, one petal at a time.

It was around the time to harvest the dandelions. Apparently humans treated them as pest plants, but they were quite a good food source, so his glen grew them. It was best to pick half while they were flowering and half afterwards.

As he reached out to them, they shrank away. Asher moved his hand closer, and the plants leaned further away. Frustrated, he reached out and snagged an apple off a tree. As he was about to put it in his mouth, he felt something wet and sticky in his palm.

The apple was decomposing rapidly in his hand, until it melted into a viscous, black sludge. Asher turned to see where he’d walked; the grass was dead in every area where he’d stepped.

“Samara! You’re ruining everything!” His mother shouted, her hands in her hair.

“Mom! I’m sorry! I----” The rot spread faster and faster, crawling up his mother’s roots.

“You ruin everything, Samara. Everything.” Her flesh rots, and her teeth fall out one by one.

Asher screamed himself awake.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Edge pulled over hard, turning off the ignition. “WHAT’S HAPPENING?” His eyelights glowed intensely, and the magic of battle brewed in the air.

“I’m sorry, mom… sorry….” Asher mumbled. He was awake. It was over.

“I shoulda fuckin’ warned him about the nightmares, Boss. It was my fault.”

“No, I could have done so as well.”

Asher shook his head. “Don’t worry… I can’t remember the last good dream I had. They’ve just never been that bad.”

“Yeah… our dad never talks about his. Makes sense, though, since he doesn’t fuckin’ talk about anythin’.”

“Hmph, it is frustrating. I can tell that it’s bothering him. He has the same microexpressions as I do when I’m upset. But he just shoves it all down and acts like an asshole. That’s going to blow up in his face some day.. I hope I’m not around for that,” Edge sighed.

“So… we almost there? Sorry for scaring you.”

Edge restarted the car, and they were off. They were pretty out of the city; the interstate was mottled with wildflowers and tall grass. Large houses with acres of property made up most of the landscape.

“Yes, just one more turn off this exit and it’s the first place on the left.” They rounded the hill next to the exit and…

Jesus Christ. The house was an absolute horrorshow. It looked like the kind of place that a church would run a haunted house in to raise money for charity. How it hadn’t been condemned or demolished was beyond Asher. The shutters were slowly sliding off their windows. Some windows were missing panes altogether, covered by plywood instead. The parking lot was full of luxury cars and retrofitted antique vehicles.

“This is… a little worse than I expected, Edge.”

“I know it looks a bit haunted on the outside, but that’s simply because they don’t feel like fixing it. The inside is a lot nicer,” The captain assured him as they pulled into the lot.

He checked his phone. Goddamn it, a whole bunch of them had dipped out of lunch. Including Vanilla.

Fuming, Edge smiled at Asher. “Excuse me for one moment, Asher.”

“Easy, bro.”

“NO! THEY SAID THEY WERE COMING! WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE TAKING RESPONSIBILITY?”

Edge basically slammed his fingers into the keypad as he dialed someone Asher didn’t know.

“VANILLA! WHAT THE FUCK GIVES?!”

“What can I say? Not interested.” Looks like Edge hit the speaker button in his hurry.

“YOU COULD APOLOGIZE!”

“I’m not the one doing something wrong. You’re introducing some decomposing rando into a house of already half-functional skeletons. And now the queen wants to throw in that psycho? Count me the fuck out.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT PSYCHO.” Edge’s eyelights went out.

“Oh, you haven’t heard? He just got released from prison, and that’s what Fafriel wants to do with him. You should probably make peace with your old man before he’s wiped off the face of the earth.”

“RIGHT. AS IF YOUR FATHER IS GOING TO LEAVE HIS HOME JUST BECAUSE OF TWO NEW PEOPLE. NOT EVERYONE THROWS IN THE TOWEL WHENEVER THEY FACE ANY LEVEL OF DIFFICULTY, SANS.”

The line went quiet.

“If I have to drag my dad out of that building by force, I will. I’m not losin’ him after just getting him back.”

“OH, YOU’RE GONNA DRAG HIM OUT? HE’LL JUST TELEPORT BACK. OUR FATHERS ARE EVEN BETTER AT TAKING ON CHALLENGES THAN YOU ARE AT RUNNING AWAY FROM THEM. GOOD DAY, SANS,” Edge hung up with a wicked grin.

“Who was that?” Asher asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Vanilla. Cinn’s Tale Kingdom counterpart. We’ve both been on the Surface for the same amount of time and he hasn’t evolved or matured one bit in that time. I for one, am proud of all the progress my brother has made. Vanilla and Honey just seem to go backwards, frankly. I feel sorry for Papaya and Azure.”

“There’s no need to feel sorry for me, Edge! Sans is just going through a rough patch!” A skeleton in a suit jacket, leather elbow patches and plaid orange dress pants put his hand on Edge’s shoulder.

“NYAAAGH! DON’T DO THAT, PAPY!”

“See? You don’t like it when you’re talked about behind your back , do you?” the other chuckled. “Don’t worry! I would have dragged Sans by the ear here if I had to. Brother, come out of the car!”

A dark blue-eyed skeleton skulked out of his brother’s Ferrari.

“Coming.”

“Hello, little dryad! My name is Papaya Aster, Esquire. It is truly an honor to meet you!” He seemed so excited he could barely contain himself, pulling out a fidget spinner to burn off the extra energy.

“Go on, Papaya. It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Edge clapped him on the back.

“A-ARE YOU A HUGGER? E-excuse me, I tend to be a little too clingy sometimes!” Papaya smiled apologetically.

“Oh? Sure. Haven’t been hugged too often, but I like trying new things, hahaha.”

Papaya scooped Asher up and spun him around, before setting him down carefully, making sure he landed properly.

“Jeez. Can’t say I’ve ever been hugged with quite so much enthusiasm. Thank you, Papaya.”

“It’s no issue! If you’re ever wanting a hug, I am always ready to give!”

“Yeah, and that’s just the issue,” his brother muttered. That must be Vanilla.

“Nice to meet you,” Asher smiled, offering a hand.

Vanilla takes it. The others seemed to have expected something to happen, since they were all cringing. But nothing happened.

“Nilla’s the name. I’m one of your landlords, I guess.”

“Right,” Asher swallowed.

“Is anyone else planning on showing up?” Edge sighed, pinching his nasal bridge.

“I believe Azure is coming in. Honey’s… a little impaired at the moment.”

“You can say drunk , Papy,” Edge spat.

“I don’t want to make a bad impression!” Papyrus responded. They weren’t upset, not with each other, at least.

“Considering the unpleasantness that was the phone call with your brother, I think that we can drop all pretenses.”

A car braked hard in the parking lot. A pair of heels stuck out of the door, as well as… a riding crop?

“ESPRESSO! CORTADO! GET OUT OF THE CAR, THE TENANT IS ALREADY HERE!” He shouted, a curt rasp in his voice.Two thumbs up popped out of the windows, before two long, yellow eyed skeletons stepped out of the car. The one yelling stepped out last, needing assistance from one of his brothers to get down from their enormous Lexus GX.

The smaller seemed to be in charge, the other two trailing behind him. One of them was hunched as he walked, his hoodie dipping just a little over his eyes. Headphones sat squarely on his shoulders. The other was much dressed like his brother, walking straight, in a rather futuristic black trench.

“ESPRESSO! PICK UP THE SLACK! WE ONLY HAVE A LIMITED AMOUNT OF TIME TO ASSESS THE TENANT BEFORE YOUR THERAPY SESSION!”

The hunched one nodded, running a little to catch up with his brothers.

The two militant ones squinted at Asher hard.

“CORTADO. HIS STATS.”

Wait, Asher’s stats?! What the hell did they need those for? Were they about to fight him or something?

“Illegible. Nothing but VOID-garbled gibberish, Captain.”

“THEN GIVE ME AN ESTIMATE!”

“Uh… do I need to do something here?” Asher asked Edge.

“No. This is just… their routine. Riesling, do you intend on wasting all of lunch staring at our tenant, or will you introduce yourself like a normal person?”

“THIS IS PERFECTLY NORMAL! CORTADO, I GROW IMPATIENT.”

“DEF 50. ATK 30. HP 30/30. Soul of Justice.”

“PATHETIC! A COMPLETE AND UTTER WEAKLING! GOOD. YOU ARE OF NO THREAT TO OUR FATHER AND MAY PROCEED.”

“Al...right?” Asher wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or insulted. Maybe a little bit of both. He wasn’t a complete weakling, right?

“WE MUST WAIT FOR THE LONE COMMANDER, AS WELL AS OUR COUSIN AND HIS PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A COMPANY,” Riesling sighed.

“You know Scamp and Sliv are always late. Let’s just go inside and get this over with,” Nilla sighed deeper. Cinn gritted his teeth.

“You’se guys go on ahead. I’m gonna need a moment.”

“Fine,” Edge nodded. “Asher, would you mind staying for a moment with my brother? I would like to make sure our fathers aren’t doing anything abnormally dangerous, and set up a bit, before you enter.”

“Alright, sounds good.”

Everyone except Cinn and Asher went into the house. The door practically screeched whenever it was open and shut.

Cinn pulled out a cigar and sat on the hood of the Jaguar. “Y’ want one?”

“I can’t smoke. It’s really bad for plants. Even though I’m more rot than plant, I still don’t want to risk it,” Asher declined.

“Suit yaself.” He snapped his fingers and the tip of the cigar lit up. So he knew a little fire magic…

“.... So that was… a lot. Are you all related? Or what’s the story?”

“We’re all counterparts. It gets kinda messy. Our names started out as nicknames, but eventually we had ‘em all legally changed. Got sick of gettin’ ‘calls for Sans and Papyrus’. How was we supposed to know which pair people wanted?!” He chuckled a bit.

“But, yeah… I’m sorry yer havin’ to go through all this. I’d hoped this would be a little easier than you livin’ on yer own, but all I’ve done is complicate the shit outta your life. This one’s on me, princey.”

Asher shook his head.

“You know, it’s at least been different. I got so used to my routines with Theo that I kind of forgot what life was like outside of that. Sure, not everything’s fun, and certainly not Vanilla, but it’s been different, and in that sense, refreshing. It helps me keep my mind off… this,” he smiled, gesturing to his broken body.

“Yeah. That’s what velcro shoes an’ jackets are for. Ya look right outta Blade Runner.”

Asher’s smile grew a little bigger. “I have mixed feelings about that film, but the aesthetic is top notch.”

“Yeah…” Cinn drew in a big puff, before blowing it out in the shape of a heart. “Hehehe, I still got it.”

“Can you blow it out your eyes?” Asher had to ask.

“Hell no! Shit burns like a motherfucker. Who showed ya that?” Cinn shuddered.

“Me. Nyeh heh, didn’t mean to set the bar too high for ya, shorty,” Scamp popped in and noogied Cinn mid inhale, giving him a coughing fit and stealing his cigar.

“You sack of fuckin’ shit, you planned that!” Cinn growled. Asher could kind of tell they were playing around.

“Brother. Please. We arrived with a duty, and we must perform it.”

“DON’T TREAT IT LIKE A DUTY, TREAT IT LIKE AN ADVENTURE! WE GET TO MEET A NEW FRIEND! HOPEFULLY CRIMSON WON’T INSULT THEM SO MUCH THAT THEY LEAVE CRYING THIS TIME!” It was odd. The two voices sounded like they were from the same person, yet one of them was heavy and flat, and the other was bouncing off the walls. Eventually, Asher was able to see the two skeletons talking. They had showed up in a sporty motorbike and sidecar, removing their helmets before coming to say hello.

“Nyeh heh, you Blue’s side piece now?” Scamp joked with the quieter one. The two motorcyclists looked almost inverted. The quieter one with muted purple eyelights robotically shook Asher’s hand, before the bright-eyed one grabbed Asher’s other hand and shook it vigorously.

“HELLO! I DON’T BELIEVE WE’VE MET! MY NAME IS AZURE ASTER, AND THIS IS MY FRIEND, SLIVOVITZ ASTER!”

“Yeah, here’s my big bro. Well, big metaphorically.”

“Hardee har har. Because I’m short. Very original, brother,” Slivovitz sighed. “I would at least like to supervise Edge making the food, even if he will no longer let me assist.”

“MAYBE IF WE’RE LUCKY WE CAN SNEAK MAKING A FEW SIDE DISHES. COME ON, SLIV!” Azure grabbed Sliv’s hand and basically Naruto ran to the door.

“Well, princey, whatcha see is whatcha get. You still wanna go in that house?” Cinn checked. “Y’ can say no. I’d fuckin’ say no.”

Asher shook his head. “I’m ready. I want to give this a try.”

Without realizing it, Asher took Cinn’s hand, and they walked inside. It was lunchtime.

#fta #from the ashes #ssll inspired #ssll #undertail

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monigheandonn1743 · 6 years

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Ceart-leth

Previous Chapters

Chapter 17

It was another two days of long hard riding, unforgiving roads, stubborn animals and sleepless nights, before the road split and Brian and his men said fair well and departed for Fort William. In some ways she was sorry to see him go. The more she got to know him, the more she liked him, and she’d miss him. Even if it was only for a few days.

After he’d disposed of Black Jack, he was planning on returning to Lallybroch, to await the birth of Jenny’s baby. She could see that he was as nervous about it as Jamie, and she’d promised them both that she would do all she could to see her to a safe delivery.

What she wouldn’t miss was his near constant teasing of them both. He was taking his role as chaperone to the extreme and, between him and Murtagh, they’d not had two seconds alone in the last two days. Last night she’d half expected him to pull out an English etiquette book and a ruler to make sure they weren’t sitting too close by the fire. But instead Brain simply plonked him self down between them and drank his ale without a care in the world.

She wanted to scream, we’re in the fucking highlands, who gives a shit! But she didn’t and she’d seen the first fraying edges of Jamie’s temper, when he launched his mug into the fire, and stormed off without a word.

They knew good and well that there was no-one here that would say a word about her reputation. The men were too loyal to the Fraser men to betray them like that. But he was having fun and claimed that one wrong word to a wife or sister, an’ the whole of Broch Mordha will claim ye a fallen woman! I’m only doin’ my duty, lassie.

So here she was, on the last day of their journey, sore, tired, moody, and to top it all off, she’d started her period.

Of course, Joe being an imbecilic, stupid, godforsaken, idiot of a man, hadn’t thought to pack any towels or tampons. So, she was riding on a horse, with strips of a torn up vest top in her knickers, trying to hide her pain and embarrassment from Jamie and his merry men.

Surely she’d mentioned that in her diary!

She loved her sweet, caring man dearly, she really, really did, and she’d missed their closeness the past few days. But if he asked her one more time if she was alright, she was going to lose her shit. She wasn’t alright, she was far from alright. She was miserable, self conscious and in pain. But while most twenty first century men knew that her being fine meant run for your life, poor Jamie didn’t have a clue, and one of them was bound to pay the price for it.

Or maybe he did.

And maybe it was her.

After his father left, rather than make the most of his absence, Jamie had ridden ahead with a small group to scout the road, leaving her under the watchful eyes of Murtagh and Willie. She missed him the moment he disappeared out of sight, and instantly cursed her shitty mood. It wasn’t his fault, and she felt like a bitch for taking it out on him. To make matters worse she needed to stop, again, just to check things and she didn’t want to ask Murtagh, nor stop without Jamie in their current position.

Bloody men!

She huffed, unintentionally catching Willies attention, and almost groaned when he rode his mount closer to her.

“Are ye well, milady?” He asked sweetly, his boyhood charm lessoning the impact of his question. But she still had to remind herself not to try and wring his scrawny little neck.

“I’m fine, Willie.” She answered for the millionth time. “But you really shouldn’t call me that though.” She reminded him gently, despite the warmth the simple name brought her.

None of his men referred to Jamie as anything but Mac Dubh, unless Brian was around, then it was Milord this and Milord that. But since their return from the stream, most had been addressing her as Milady, and despite her protest she secretly loved it.

Especially when Jamie said it.

He’d still made no formal offer of marriage, but despite their new, strict adherence to property, forced though it was, he’d begun openly courting her. And it was the sweetest thing in the world. Her emotions got the better of her, and her skin erupted in goosebumps, just simply from remembering his small thoughtful gestures.

The way he kissed the back of her hand in greeting, and the palm as he left her. Always making sure to close her fingers around his kiss to keep it safe until his return. Or the way he shooed off the men to give her the first cut of meat, and a place closest to the fire. Or how he always found the most comfortable spot for her furs at night, and if there wasn’t one, he’d sneak one of his own beneath them for comfort.

Despite her protests.

God she missed him. He’d been gone less than a hour, but she felt like shit for having driven him away. He loved her, and he was worried about her, and she’d almost snapped his head off.

Now it was her turn to be worried about him.

“Milady?”

“Sorry, Willie. I was miles away, I missed what you said.” She apologised, shaking her head as she turned to look at him. But he simply smiled, and waved her away.

“Ah, dinna fash. I was only sayin’ that we’ll have to soon enough. Might as well get used to it.”

“Don’t jinx it.” She laughed lightly, although she was completely serious. She wasn’t really superstitious, but after everything that had happened, she wanted to cover all her bases. “How much longer do you think they’ll be?” She asked, casting her eyes around the dim forest.

They’d left the open road some time ago, to enter the woods and the mountain pass within them. So the view was limited, which was the reason Jamie had left to scout in the first place. They still rode with the Argyll banner and it offered them some protection, but it had its pit falls as well as its advantages.

It would announce to any redcoat patrols that they were friend not foe, and discourage them from attacking. But it would have the adverse effect on bandits, or the notorious watch, so the men were on high alert for raids or ambushes. It made her nervous, and she was worried for Jamie. His still only had the use of one arm, and he wouldn’t be able to fight well if it came down to it.

“I dinna ken.” Willie shrugged. “They’ll want to check through the pass, an’ then they’ll circle back to make sure we’re not bein’ followed.”

She glanced behind her, looking for any sign of him, but seeing no hint of his bright red hair in the caravan of men, she sigh and tuned back to Willie.

“Do you live close to Lallybroch?” She asked, needing a distraction. The cramps in her stomach were getting worse, and she wanted to try and take her mind of them, and her wayward…what? Boyfriend? Lover? Beau?

“Aye. My da’s a tenant. He’s been farming the land there since His Grace took control. That’s over thirty years. He helped him build the original house.”

“The original house?”

“Aye. The new manor was built around the old one.” He told her excitedly, almost bouncing in his seat. “T’was only finished this spring, an’ t’is grand, ye ken. I’v no been inside but my aunt, Mrs Bissett, she’s the house keeper, she said t’is like a palace.”

“Really?” She asked, trying to keep the scepticism out of her voice. Despite their newly inherited titles, neither Jamie or Brian struck her as the type of men to flaunt their position.

“Aye.”

She sighed. Jamie had told her that he still worked the farm and while she knew that was unusual for landed gentry or a peer, it really didn’t surprise her. It was simply the man he was. She was sure he go stir crazy as a man of leisure. He wasn’t born for it. He was a Scottish highlander through and through, and she knew he’d work night and day until he was forced to take over the Dukedom.

Besides, Willie had lived his whole life here in the highlands. Her idea of a palace and his were probably vastly different. At least she hoped they were.

She’d tried her hardest not to think about it, because it was too ridiculous to wrap her mind around. But the truth was that if and when Jamie did ask her to marry him, she would be talking on more than just a husband. Some day, hopefully in the very distant future, she would become the Duchess of Argyll.

It made no sense. How could she, little old Claire Beauchamp from here there and everywhere, be destined to become a fucking Duchess?

Just over a month ago, she’d been sitting in her studio apartment, in twenty first century Oxfordshire, cramming for her final medical exams. Christ, after five years of bone wary, soul draining, thankless hours of studying and on the job training, she didn’t even know if she’d passed.

Yet here she was now, in eighteenth century Scotland, claiming to be the doctor she didn’t know if she was. Ready to marry a man she’d known for ten days and loved beyond her imaginings.

And facing the life of a Duchess.

It was no wonder she couldn’t make head nor tails of it, and she was clinging to the hope that Jamie’s idea of a farm and hers coincided perfectly.

They’d travelled for another half an hour or so and there was still no sign of Jamie. Bordering on desperate, she’d just decided to ask Murtagh to stop at the other side of the mountain pass, when her blood ran cold. She stopped Brimstone so quickly that she startled and reared, almost toppling Claire off.

The vast walls of the mountain sides rose up on either side of a narrow path. At it’s mouth stood the group of men that Jamie had ridden off with, and at it centre stood the man who held her heart. It was the dagger at his throat, and the redcoat who held it, that stopped it completely.

“Murtagh.” She choked, looking around her frantically, as she tried to bring Brimstone under control. He was already beside her, and he reached for the reigns, and quickly brought the horse to heal.

“Easy, lass.”

“Easy?” She hissed desperate to call out to Jamie but terrified of the consequences. “He’s got a fucking knife at his throat! Don’t tell me to be easy!”

“Ach.” One of Jamie’s men called as he casually left the group and walked towards them. She searched her memory for his name, but it was lost in her panic, and she really didn’t give a shit.

Shouldn’t he be doing something?

“Dinna fash, Milady. They’ve been at it for the last twenty minutes. To be fair, t’is the first time the lobster backs had the upper hand. Even one armed Mac Dubh’s no making it easy on him.” He shrugged as he came to stand beside them. “T’will be over soon.”

“Have you lost your ever loving mind?” She growled as she jumped down intending to do something if they wouldn’t. “Help him!”

“He’d skin me alive.”

“Claire, he’s fine.” Murtagh laughed, dismounting himself and moving towards her. But she ignored him and pushed her way through the crowd of redcoats and highlanders, pulling out the dagger Jamie had gifted her.

Strong hands clasped around her upper arm, and she struggled against them uselessly, trying to get away.

“If ye mark her, I’ll cut ye bollocks off!” Jamie warned as he grabbed the redcoat and flung him over his shoulder. He landed with a thud, all the air knocked out of him, and while half of the group hissed, the other cheered.

The grip around her arms had slowly loosened at Jamie’s threat. But she stood stock still, watching as Jamie brushed the hair out of his eyes, and offered a hand to the fallen redcoat.

What the fuck?

“Ye getting’ slow in ye old age.” He laughed patting the younger man on the shoulder as he dusted the mud off his uniform.

“It is your years of experience no doubt. I am sure by the time I reach the grand old age of six and twenty, I will be able to thrash you in my sleep.” The redcoat threatened, his well spoken English betraying his affluent upbringing.

“Ye believe that if it makes ye feel better.”

Despite still being somewhat shaken, he fell into step beside Jamie and she watched in a daze as they walked towards her. Her eyes flitted from one man to the next until they came to rest on the redcoat as he eyed her with confusion. She couldn’t really blame him, she was a lone woman with a bunch of rag-tag highlanders. But she held the monopoly on sheer incredulity. She had no idea what the hell was going on.

Her heart was pounding erratically, and she could barely stand as Jamie stopped before her. He smiled and reached out to take the dagger from between her shaking fingers.

“Easy, Sassenach.” He laughed, as he raised her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. “Let me introduce ye to my good friend Lord John Grey. Lord John, Mistress Claire Beauchamp…my…my intended.”

Claire raised an eyebrow as she stared into the bright, wary, blue eyes of her Viking warrior. For someone who had been fighting for the last twenty minutes there wasn’t a hair out of place and he wasn’t winded at all. She wanted to rail at him for scaring the shit out of her, but she wouldn’t in company, and she was too surprised by his introduction.

She hadn’t missed his hesitation either.

Jamie’s smirked and she took a deep breath and turned back to face his friend.

“My Lord.” She curtsied politely. His eyes widened, no doubt at her accent, and he bowed to her, but it was almost an after through. All of the colour had drained from his face, and he looked almost sick to the stomach at having to address her.

“Mistress Beauchamp, it is a pleasure.” He lied as his eyes darted from her, to Jamie, to the hand that was still wrapped around hers. “I hadn’t heard you were to marry again, Jamie.”

“Nay ye willna have…t’is recent an’ we’ve no announced the banns yet.”

Nor have you actually asked yet.

“Then I wish you congratulations.” He nearly whispered, his eyes locked on Jamie’s.

“Thank ye. It means a lot.”

She was still lost in a haze of shock and confusion as she watched their exchange. But it was clear that there was more being said than what she and the men could hear, and it took her a moment to read the subtle undertones.

There was a question and an answering apology. But it was the longing and devastation apparent in Greys eyes that had Claire’s breath catching in her throat. She felt such sudden, heartbreaking sympathy for the man, that any slight she’d felt at his obvious dislike towards her, melted away.

He was in love with Jamie.

She knew all too well how easy he was to love, and how devastating it was to feel as though that love was in vein. But while her heart had broken, she’d had the comfort of knowing that he loved her too. Lord John had no such comfort.

At least she hoped he didn’t.

“If you’ll excuse me?” She asked, looking from one man to the next as she eased her hand from Jamie’s grasp. She needed a moment to process what was happening, and she had a feeling they did too.

She almost felt like an intruder, and it made her feel slightly sick.

“Are ye well, Sassenach?” He asked, frowning down at her with the same look he’d given her all morning. After her fright, his question failed to irritate her, and she smiled weakly and nodded.

“Yes. I just need a moment now we’ve stopped. I’ll leave you gentlemen to it. It was a pleasure to meet you, Lord John.”

“Mistress Beauchamp.”

She curtsied again and just caught Jamie’s gesture for Murtagh to follow her. She wanted to cry. She was hoping that with so many people about, she’d be allowed a moments privacy. She needed to get some things out of her bag and she couldn’t do that with Murtagh watching over her shoulder.

Attempting to push down her embarrassment, she ignored Murtagh’s curious gaze, and quickly unstrapped her bag. If she couldn’t take out what she needed, she’d have to take the whole thing and just hope he didn’t question her.

“Dinna go too far, lass.” He warned as she turned off the path and walked into the trees.

“I’ll stay in yelling distance.” She promised clutching her bag in one hand and her stomach with the other.

Her mind felt as twisted as her uterus and after she’d righted herself, and buried the used rag, she sank down against a tree and hid her head in her hands.

That Jamie loved and desired her was perfect clear, and she didn’t doubt him for a moment. There was no way that anyone could fake the passion that burned between them. But she was a twenty first century girl, she understood the concept of bisexuality, and her stomach knotted at the thought.

Lord John had done a terrible job of hiding his feeling for Jamie. They were written on his face, as clear as day. It was Jamie’s guilt that confused her. Was it simply because he was aware of his friends feeling, and was sorry to have hurt him? Or was it because he shared those feelings but knew that they could never act on them? Or even that they had acted on them, and he felt guilty for falling in love with her and betraying they relationship?

Homosexuality was illegal here, and she ached for the pain that the men and woman had to suffer. Having to hide who they were, and who they loved, was cruel and unjust. But she hated the thought of sharing Jamie’s love with anyone man or woman, and pure unadulterated jealousy burned in her gut like acid.

Just like she imagined it did in Lord Johns.

If it was another woman that held his affection, though she’d still be envious, she’d always know that he’d chosen her. But where Lord John was concerned, he had no choice, not without the risk of being found out and hung for his crimes.

So, would she be left to always wonder if she was second best? They were friends and there was no doubt that they’d spend time together. Yet each time they did, would she question what they were doing when she wasn’t around?

Just ask him you fucking idiot!

She huffed at herself, and snapped open her bag to take out two painkillers. Her head was aching as much as her stomach and with her exhaustion and bloody PMS she was close to tears.

And being complete irrational.

“Claire?”

“I’m coming.”

Her heart had slipped its usual beat at the sound of his voice, and at its call, she snapped her bag closed and pushed to her feet. Whether he loved Lord John or not, he was hers, and she was his.

He was waiting for her just at the edge of the tree line and when he saw her face, so drawn and lost, he threw property to the wind and pulled her into his arms.

“I’m begin’ ye, lass. Tell me what’s wrong.” He murmured, holding her against his chest. Leaning down he pressed his lips to her hair and held them there as she trembled in his arms. She’d bathed again this morning, before they’d started their journey, and the gentle scent of roses permeated his scenes.

“I…Lord John…” she whispered, burrowing closer as she let go of her bag and wrapped her arms around his waist. “He’s…”

“Aye, I ken.” He laughter lightly. “It dinna take ye long to notice.”

“He didn’t make much of an effort to hide it. It’s just…are…do you…”

“Lord, no!” He jumped in, shaking his head vigorously. How could she think for one minute that he’d ever even consider taking a man? Or being taken by one? He shuddered at the thought. It was one thing to know of, and begrudgingly understand, Johns affections, but to be a part of it was unthinkable. “What do ye take me for, lass? I’m no an arse bandit.”

“Jamie!” She chastised hotly, as she pulled back and frowned up at him. “Can you not be so…crass! There’s nothing wrong with being homosexual, or bisexual. I was only wondering if you and John…”

“He may be my friend, Sassenach, but the law says differently.”

“Now maybe, but not forever. Same sex marriages will be perfectly acceptable in the future.” He gaped down at her, made speechless once again by yet another realisation about the would she’d lived in.

“Marriage?”

“Yes. But I’m sorry I asked, it’s just, you looked so guilty when you introduced us, and it was clear that he’s in love with you.”

He sighed and pulled her close again, holding her head against his heart. He’d known for a long time about Johns feelings for him, and while they’d disgusted him at first, he’d come to accept that he’d never expected more than his friendship.

“Aye, he is. But he’s never attempted to foster them on me, and he ken’s well that I’d never reciprocate.” He whispered rocking her gently. “I canna help but feel sorry for it. But ye avoiding’ the question. Ye’v no been yerself all day, Sassenach, so dinna be using’ John as an excuse no to tell me.”

He felt her chest expand beneath his arm and she whispered something so quietly that he didn’t hear a word of it. He pulled back slightly and unwound his arm, so he could lift her chin. She was bright red and she refused to look him in the eye.

What was she hiding?

“Claire? Tell me!”

“Oh for Gods sake!” She huffed stepping back and wrapping her arms around her waist. “I started my…courses this morning. I feel icky, uncomfortable, and in pain. There, are you happy?”

He blinked at her as her word sunk in, but when they did he suddenly felt like an idiot, and had no idea what to do. Of course being married before he had a basic understand of a woman curse, but for him it had simply meant there was either a bairn on the way, or there wasn’t, and they stopped trying for a while.

They were always mentioned in abstract, something along the lines of I’m not fit for company or I’m with child. He’d never been close enough with Annalise to know when or how she suffered with them, or really what they entailed.

“Why are ye in pain?” He eventually asked, focusing on his biggest concern as he took a step towards her. He didn’t like the thought of her hurting, and it worried him. What if there was something wrong?

“It always hurts for the first day or two.” She shrugged, allowing him to wrap his arm back around her. “But don’t worry, I’ll manage today. I’m not bleeding too much yet.”

“Yer bleedin’?” He gasped, pulling her back away from him and looking her over from head to toe. “Why? Where?” He couldn’t see any blood, but her dress was dark, he might have missed it. He tried to turned her around, to check her back as his heart pounded in panic, but she slapped his hand away.

“Of course I’m bleeding!” She huffed as though it was nothing, and his world wasn’t about to fall apart. “What do you expect?”

“No for ye to be bleedin’ an’ in pain! Show me.”

“What? No!”

“How can I help ye, if ye won’t let me?” He growled turning around to find her wee bag on the floor behind him. He bent to grab it, but she fell down to her knees before him and stilled his hand.

“Jamie.” She whispered, moving her hands up to cup his face. “There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s my courses. They come every month, and I bleed for five days, and then stop until the following month. The only time they stop completely is when a woman’s pregnant. It’s perfectly normal.”

Five day?

Who bleeds for five days and lives to tell about it?

“Aye, I ken that, I just dinna ken ye’d be bleedin’.” He sighed, falling on to his arse and pulling her down against him. “Are ye sure ye well?”

“I’m fine I promise. But, you were married. How do you not know?”

“Ye ken we werena close. I was either welcome in her rooms or I wasna. There was never a mention of them unless she was telling me about a bairn. T’is no a thing men talk about.” He explained his heart finally slowing as she nestled against him.

“Well you best get used to it. Because I’m likely to bitch and moan about it every twenty eight days.”

Chapter 18

#outlander #jamieandclaire #outlanderfanfiction #ceart-leth

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