Claire and Jamie made a lovely couple. Instinctively close, equally uncomfortable with the situation they found themselves in.
The preparations for the wedding were rather scarce. Claire had to make do with yet more borrowed clothes, this time in the white that befitted a blushing bride. She also had to make do with a Lise as her handmaid.
It was mid-afternoon when Claire was finally being laced into her corset.
"You are meant to wear a shift, you know," Lise grumbled for the second time, focusing more intently on the lacing that was strictly necessary. "It makes the corset less uncomfortable too."
Claire stared at her own reflection in the mirror, distorted slightly by the tarnished silver, and did not answer her. She watched her own face look back at her, empty of the emotion she ought to be feeling. Empty of the joy that she felt last time she had a wedding day.
Lise paused and glanced up at Claire, catching her eye in the silver.
"There are worse fates," she began, Claire turning her head away, but Lise stepped so that she met her eye true this time. "There are worse fates, but that doesn't mean this is any easier."
Lise moved back around to finish lacing the corset, but she kept talking.
"I ken how bad this is for ye, but it's really hard no to be jealous of ye." She watched her fingers move the ribbon through each hole. "Ye keep finding a place. A way to exist here, and I just – I wish I either had yer determination to go home or ability to stay."
Claire grabbed the younger woman's hand as it rested on her shoulder. Lise sniffed harshly, then managed a weak smile.
"Ye had to take the pretty one, didn't you?" she joked. Claire smiled lightly.
"I suppose I can be thankful of that. Imagine if Dougal had suggested himself," she forced lightness into her voice.
Lise mimed retching, and the two of them finally managed to laugh genuinely.
Perhaps this wedding day wouldn't be quite so painful.
Lise waited downstairs for the eventual creaking that would mean that everyone could go to their own beds. She pressed the heel of her hand into her eyebrow and groaned lightly. When she opened her eyes, she caught sight of Rupert and Angus heading up towards the martial suite itself. The groan was more pronounced this time.
The two men fell through the door and spoke with the freeness of a drunken Scot. Jamie was half-way to pushing Rupert back out the door when Lise appeared and grabbed Angus by the ear. She yanked him out the room, and rolled her eyes at Claire.
"Men." Was all she offered, before shoving Angus and Rupert back down the steps. As Jamie neared the door, she turned to him and said "If yer no actually going tae do the deed, could ye at least bounce around on the bed a bit so I can go tae my own bed?"
Jamie pinked slightly.
Lise returned to her seat by the fire, eyes fixed on the door. When Angus sat down next to her, she didn't move a fraction.
"Go away," she said curtly.
"You hurt my ear," he said, reproachfully. Lise finally turned away from the door.
"Yer ear shouldnae have been in that room," she scolded. "Eyes neither."
Angus pouted. The creaking began, and eyebrows were raised. Lise stared into the fire, trying very hard not to name the feeling that stirred in her gut.
Unfortunately, Angus noticed it.
"Hey, if yer feeling left oot, I could always give ye a ride oot in the stables," he teased.
Lise turned away from the fire and burst out laughing. She clapped him on the shoulder and laughed so loudly that it drew the attention of at least a dozen men in the room.
"Angus, sweetheart," she swallowed half the laughter and swiped the tears from her eyes. "Has that ever worked?"
Angus looked almost put out. Rupert grinned over Angus' shoulder and clapped him even harder on his shoulder.
"That's ye told then."
"Rupert, ye cannae talk. I bet ye'd have said the exact same thing, and got the exact same response."
Lise snuck back into the main room as soon as she was certain that all the men had gone, and took up station in the corner, cloaked in darkness and mistrust. She was still there when Dougal returned, and unnoticed until Dougal grasped Claire by the cheek.
"I wouldnae."
Claire jumped at the sound of Lise's voice, and Dougal wheeled around, drawing a sword in one fluid action. Lise stepped forwards, crossing her arms.
"I wouldnae say what ye were aboot to say if I were ye, Dougal," she repeated. She glanced over at Claire. "And I'd go back to yer husband."
A singing Rupert broke the tension, not quite entering the room to disrupt the moment. Claire moved back towards her new husband, and Lise used the moment to slip away into a different shadowy corner. She wasn't prepared to try to sleep in a world filled with this many drunk men.
The next few days were bliss for Claire. It wasn't quite the traditional bliss of a honeymoon, but she was happy. Time with Jamie was surprisingly easy. Comfortable.
Conversations moved lightly. They got to know each other over picnics and horse rides, meaningless chats and slightly more profound discussions.
Lise was disjointed by the shift. She was more on edge than ever, and so when their camp was set upon, she was the first to notice. She glanced at the horses and then to Rupert, telling his story by the fire. His glance to the trees told her all she needed to know. Everyone knew they were nearby.
In a mockery of a yawn, Lise stretched and slipped her knife into her hand.
"Go!" Jamie shouted to Claire, sending her running off to a fallen tree. Lise's knife flew through the air, burying itself into a man's neck as he emerged from the darkness. She hurried towards the fallen man, snatching the knife up and swinging towards a second as the MacKenzie men burst into life around her.
Identities were lost in the scrabble, and it was over as quickly as it began.
"Did they get anything?" Dougal demanded of the dark. Men muttered around him, then Rupert spoke.
"A horse, three bags of grain, but none of the money."
They swirled back around each other, griping and moaning about their losses, but not too put out. Dougal comforted the distressed looking young Willie in a moment of humanity that made Claire question him yet again.
"Aye," the youngest member of the party muttered.
"Did they hurt anyone?" Claire asked of the group, scanning each face. "And where's Lise?"
A moment passed in tense silence, then the soft sound of footfalls reached their ears. All eyes turned, apprehensively, towards the noise. Added to the footfalls was the sound of a young man grumbling, followed by a female voice.
"Ach, dinnae be such wuss."
Claire smiled slightly as Lise moved back towards the camp, a horse's reins in one hand, and the young man's ear in the other.
"I got the horse back. And since he widnae drop the grain, I brought this thing as well!" She spoke so triumphantly that a low laugh bubbled out of Rupert.
"Can we keep her?" He chuckled. "It's like having a dog that likes to play fetch."
Lise grinned at him, and handed the reins over.
Claire had dropped the dagger. Now, they had to hunt over a ridiculously large section of land to find the stupid weapon, and Lise resented it. She glanced over towards the woman, meeting her gaze.
"Do you want tae die?" Lise's face seemed to say.
"Shut up and look for it." Claire seemed to say back, turning her gaze back towards the ground and catching sight of the dagger. She snatched it up, then held it, sheepishly smiling at Jamie.
Lise rolled her eyes and then stalked back to the cluster of men, throwing herself down on the ground whilst they milled around. She pressed her hands over her eyes and groaned lightly.
"Careful, lass," Murtagh said, quietly, "Yer jealousy is showing."
Lise lifted one hand and made an obscene gesture at him that almost, but not quite, made him smile.
"Murtagh?"
"Aye?"
"Ye havenae spoken to me this entire time. I liked that about ye – can we go back to no prodding around in each other's business?" She lifted a hand off her eyes, opening her right eye slowly. Murtagh looked down at her and raised an eyebrow.
"Yer riding wi' Willie fer that gesture," he finally replied before turning his gaze back to Claire. Her lesson with Rupert had begun. His gesturing made Lise groan.
"Oh, I'm no standin' for this," she muttered. She pushed herself upright and strode over to them, calling. "Dinae do that – she hasnae the weight for an upperhand."
Claire was handed the Sgian Dubh, feeling uncomfortable with its coldness. Somehow the dagger felt less villainous. Less hidden.
Rupert stood in front of her, whilst Lise circled them, like a vulture, pouncing on Rupert every time he said something she disagreed with. Rupert lifted his shirt, gesturing at his ribs. Lise decided enough was enough.
"Ignore him," she cut in. "Ribs are difficult – ye have to aim, and pray, and get lucky tae hit flesh and no bone. Aim for liver or kidneys – it willnae kill a man straight away, but he shouldnae be able to follow ye."
Claire turned to her, looking slightly startled.
"Are you sure?" She asked, slightly apprehensively.
"Aye. And a Sgian Duhn isnae yer best weapon, yer elbows are," Lise continued. Her eyes softened and she stepped closer to Claire, dropping her voice. "I think we both ken that if ye had to kill a man, ye'd probably hesitate. So, elbow in the gut. If he's behind ye – make him SING. Solar Plexus, just under the ribs, In-step, stamp on foot, throw head back into his nose, and groin. Then, run."
Claire nodded. Aiming to kill hadn't sat well with her.
Lise twisted Rupert around, prodding him firmly in kidneys.
"Ow," he protested. Lise prodded him again, harder this time.
"Stab here and run, always a safe bet." Lise paused. "If ye can reach and ye really hate the guy, stab him in the jugular and run."
"Is the key thing, perhaps, to run?" Claire asked dryly. Lise raised an eyebrow. She plucked the small knife out of Claire's hands and twirled it in her fingers.
"Aye. 'Cause you keep handling this like it's going to explode." Lise suddenly snapped her wrist back and flung the knife towards Dougal. It embedded itself in the tree, millimetres from his ear. "Until ye view it as nothing more than a tool, ye're no gonna use it as firmly as ye need tae."
Lise decided it had been long enough for the two newlyweds to have their fun, and strode off in the direction they'd vanished in, barely muttering her intentions to Dougal before she left.
When she rose over the hillside, she saw the redcoat holding Jamie at gun point, the second lurching over Claire. Her hand was moving before she thought about it, the knife glinting viciously in the sunlight. Silver sung through the air, whistling softly before embedding itself in the soft flesh.
The man fell, toppling on top of Claire, who screamed as he landed on her, her own Sgain Duhn fractions of millimetres above the man's flesh.
A second knife flew through the air, grazing Jamie's thigh as it pressed fiercely into the redcoat's leg. The blood started to pour as Jamie twirled around, slicing open his neck. Lise watched only as long as to be certain both men were dead, then grasped her skirts in her hands and ran back towards the men.
They were already moving when she collided with them, barely gasping out a 'Redcoats' before letting herself be wheeled around and pushed forwards, leading them back to Jamie and Claire.
Claire was still half undressed, the bodice of her gown half undone. Jamie had moved down to the bodies, looking up worriedly at her, and barely even registering Lise moving along the croft to her. He only noticed her when Lise reached Claire, grabbing her hands and holding her still. Her lips moved quickly as she spoke to Claire, her head tilting to peer at her face better.
Lise's hand let go of Claire's and stretched out towards the young man who stood apart, not sure who to go to. Willie stood still, and Jamie could see Lise's face contort in anger, snapping at him. Her demand was so curt and clear that he heard the words as well as saw them.
"Plaid. Now. Give it."
Willie stumbled forwards and gave it to her, allowing her to wrap it around Claire's shoulders. Her fingers fumbled in front of Claire's chest and, with a start, Jamie realised that she was redressing Claire, fixing her clothes first, and then her hair. She took Claire by the elbow and walked her back to her horse, murmuring to her the whole way. A part of Jamie panged – such tenderness was being shown. Lise was looking after Claire how he ought to have been looking after her, had defended her even better than he had.
Lise was mostly silent as they rode away, feeling Willie's embarrassment at having her share his horse behind her. His forced swallowing was audible in her ear, and by the third time he had opened his mouth just to shut it again, Lise turned her head to him, not quite looking at him, and told him to spit it out.
"Ye ken a lot about killing men," he said, quietly. Lise felt painfully aware of the youth that was in his voice.
"People, in general," Lise corrected.
"Aye." Willie faltered. "How?"
Lise bit her lip, eyes fixed ahead, although she could feel the watchful eyes of Murtagh and Dougal drift towards her, their ears practically pricked to hear her answer.
"I trained." Her words were clipped. "Spying isnae as romantic as fiction would have ye believe. So, I trained my body as I trained my voice, and here we are."
The group drew to a halt.
"Mistress Spy."
Lise closed her eyes as Dougal turned to her, his horse moving back towards hers and Willie's. She opened them again and looked him dead in the eye, expressionless.
"War Chief?" she drawled.
"Ye'll stay wi' Willie and Claire, here," Dougal ordered. Lise nodded, Claire muttered her objections to Jamie. Lise slid off her horse, and strode towards Murtagh, holding out her hand. He placed the two knives she'd thrown back into her hand.
"I owe ye an apology," he said, softly. Lise raised an eyebrow. "It's no Claire yer jealous of."
"Perceptive," Lise responded, too worn down to either lie or tease. "Now go. I'll look after these two."
Murtagh nodded, and the men moved off as one, leaving Lise to return to Willie.
The men were taking too long. And Claire had claimed that she needed to relieve herself, wandering off. Lise paced, her heart in her throat, not sure whether to stay for Willie's return or to move after Claire.
Fuck it, Willie had a sword and two horses. Claire was in shock.
Lise ran back towards Craig Na Dun, following the small brown cloak that billowed as Claire ran towards it. Her knife was in her hand as she fled, not the small Sgain Duhn, but her own knife, long handled and sharp.
She killed two redcoats on her way up the hill, but there were more by the stones. And more on horses on the road. There were too many for her to be able to get Claire back. Claire was worth the fight, but if Lise died here, in this particular fight, then there'd be no getting her back. Picking a fight out of anger was ridiculous, and pointless. It would result only in Claire's security being all the tighter.