*Spoiler Alert* If you haven't "watched season 2" of Outlander or read "Dragonfly in Amber"
I own no rights to these characters and I pay my respects to those who created them and who bring them to life on the big screen.
Now and Always
When the latest battle against the English doesn't go as planned and Claire is injured, will Jamie risk it all and place his oath to Claire above his oath to King and Country risking the Princes wrath and treason?
Chapter 1: Promises
I had watched Jamie leaving, the tension in his shoulders as he rode atop his mount was subtle, but it was clear to me. After weeks and months of scheming and preparing, going over every possible way we could think of to avoid the devastation that was foretold, it was all becoming way to clear. The road had been long and hard and it would only lead to one inevitable place, the defeat of the Highlanders at Culloden and the end of life as we knew it. After Wentworth and France, Jamie and I had sworn to each other that we would never be parted again, and as I watched him trotting into the distance, I saw the pain and fear in my heart reflected in the broad shoulders of my beloved Jamie. He didn't want to leave me, anymore than I wanted to be left behind, but the fates were toying with us again and once more we faced the unknown, together but apart.
It had been some time since we had first gone to war at Tranent and we had fought many battles since then, but each one felt as if it was the first and the last. On this particular occasion we had found ourselves making the makeshift camp only a short ride from where the men had decided tomorrows battlefield would lay. An old fallen down stable had been hastily made into a make shift hospital for my immediate triage while a small cottage further down the road would house those who were strong enough to travel there unassisted. I could see the clearing just on the next rise on the other side of the small valley below, the only true advantage point for miles, and I wondered to myself whether the agony of being left behind to think the worst, would be worse than seeing him fight with my own eyes.
JAMMF JAMMF JAMMF
Lying in the cold wet grass Jamie listened to the sounds of the night as his men lay nearby. Their impatient breathing and restless bodies rustling the grass around him. The English were close, too close for Jamie's liking but at least they still had the advantage of surprise on their side. He couldn't sleep, he hadn't slept in some time if he was being honest with himself. Claire had offered to give him a potion but he had declined, he couldn't afford to let his guard down, not even with his men watching over them. He could only trust one man with her safety and there would be no argument about it. He loved that she always tried to stay awake with him, his sweet mo nighean donn keeping him company in the long dark nights, but he always found himself grateful when the weight of her body sunk into his as she passed out asleep each night, free from the harsh realities of their situation at least for a while. Apprehensive about what was to come in the morning light, he wished he could have her with him to play with his hair and sooth his fears away like she had done so many times before but it had been decided that she was to stay in the hospital, guarded by three of his most trusted men and young Fergus, and the others would wait at the base of the hill for the first hint of morning light.
The night seemed so empty without her and he longed to hold her in his arms again, to feel her sweet soft touch once more. He held on to his last image of her, her face flushed as they stole a quick moment together out by an old oak tree when no one was watching, while they had been 'gathering much needed herbs for her medicine chest'. With so many men crammed into so few cottages or in makeshift tents on the side of the road these last many weeks it had been hard to find a moment of true privacy in amongst all the chaos but he was thankful that they had. The smell of her skin, rose oil and other pleasantly pungent weeds he recognised, etched into her flesh from grinding flowers to prepare for her medicine chest earlier that morning, still ripe on her fingers. The scent filled his nose as she ran her fingers over his lips, daring him to bite them as he always did.
The late afternoon light was still hanging in the air, a pink haze filling the sky as he pulled her close and drew her into him. Kissing her neck, he longed to take her slowly and passionately but he would be missed soon and he knew that Lord George Murray would want to leave within the hour and there were still preparations to be made. He felt her fingers in his hair as she played with his curls and the stretching of her neck muscles as she looked up into the sky. God she was so beautiful, so welcoming, how did she know exactly what he needed? Finding his way back to her lips, he felt his hand start to tremble as he began lifting her skirt. "It's ok." She whispered, gathering the material and placing it in his hand before reaching out to lift up his own kilt, "Je Suis Prest" she comforted him, clearing his mind of the fear that this would be the last after all, how many times could you taunt the devil and win?
As though called to arms, he leaned back to look into her eyes, he could see the fear he felt reflected back in her gaze, but also the unspoken trust between them that he would look after her, that he would stay safe so that he may fulfil that promise. Kissing her passionately, he lay her down into the tall grass and began to make his way up her thighs. It was one thing to go to war not knowing if you would live or die, but to know you were on the losing side and there was nothing you could do about it. It was a suicide mission no matter which way you looked at it. To desert the cause and flee into the hills forever branded a traitor and a coward, or to follow the fated Prince into battle and seal your own fate. God what kind of a choice was that he had often asked himself these past few weeks as he was forced to make it over and over again, fearing that one day his luck would run out.
JAMMF JAMMF JAMMF
It was over sooner than normal, but it was by no means rushed. Holding each other tight as we lay there afterwards, we both willed time to stand still. We could hear the sounds of his men down below beginning to form muster and we knew that it would be only a matter of time until they found us there. I could feel him studying every inch of me, making a mental picture in his mind, if I couldn't be with him in person I could at least be with him in spirit. Brushing the hair from my face as he held me in his arms, I felt his lips curl spontaneously as I smiled up at him. "You come back to me Jamie Fraser." I warned him, "Or ill drag you back myself by your curly red hairs…. And I don't mean the ones on your head." I winked at him.
"Och Aye." He grinned at me. "I might just hold you to that." He kissed me on the forehead as he began to sit up and gather his things.
"You'd better." I kissed him back. "I'll be damned if His Majesty will get to have you before I'm done with you, or the all mighty himself for that matter." I added with a touch of blasphemy.
"Claire…" Jamie spoke my name softly as he began hesitantly, but was stopped as I leaned in and covered his lips with hers.
"Don't say it." I begged him, I knew what he wanted to say, that if something should happen to him I was to make my way straight to Lallybroch and to safety. He had made me promise time and again "I know. Now go." I urged him as I handed him his sword. He didn't speak, not with words, but as he held my gaze our eyes spoke a thousand words and promises to each other, signed in blood as we took each other's hands and made our way back down the hill.
JAMMF JAMMF JAMMF
Jamie held onto that moment now as he readied himself for the fight to come. He realised he wasn't fighting the war to win for Prince Charles and return the rightful king to the throne. He wasn't fighting to save the Scottish Highlanders from extinction, both of which he knew were already decided. No. He was fighting for the day he could hold Claire in his arms again a free man, he was fighting for her. And that was something worth fighting for. Letting the feeling of clarity wash over him, he felt some of the tension leaving his body and for the first time since leaving Claire's side that afternoon, he felt a version of peace. His eyes grew heavy and he allowed himself to drift off for a moment, "Je Suis Prest" he whispered to himself, "Let tomorrow come."