Chapter 30- Part 2- Two sides of every coin
Through the open window Daniea could hear Dougal's unmistakable shouting as they began to move away from Leoch's entrance. She glanced at her father who chuckled at the noise, spurring his horse to push Daniea's faster through the gates. She spent the days on the road replaying the weeks events in her mind over and over; desperately tried to drown out Taran's boasting to his men.
A word never spilled from her lips until they reached their destination, Oidhche House.
The expansive manor overshadowed every bit of the small village situated outside it's massive rock walls. As she crossed into the keep all manner of men were training around the grounds but not a single woman was in sight. Reining in their horses by the doors the entire group stopped their activities to make their way to greet their returned leader.
"No one lays a finger on her unless I say so." Taran ordered, short and direct.
The men simply bowed their heads, waited for any other further instructions then retreated back the way they came.
"Now my fox, welcome to yer new home." He cooed, dismounting.
Home… certainly not.
Oidhche House was more of a fortress meant to house and school Taran's personal legion of the Watch's spies and members. From day one they began Daniea's retraining in all manner of weapons, horsemanship, poisons and of course hone her feminine wiles.
The last time Daniea had been forced to be part of Taran's troupe was when she was barely old enough to fend for herself and only played her part in the shadows. Now with her adult physique she was to be his greatest trap.
Lesson upon lesson on how to morph into an unforgettable courtesan tormented her mornings as well as her daily sparing and weapons training which took up most of the night. Not a single inch of her body was untouched by an injury of some sort. But through it all she remained steadfast to her promise and barely noticed her own icy transformation into Taran's merciless Black Fox.
During the month after Daniea took her leave of Castle Leoch, Murtagh kept watch on young Jamie just as he always had. Day after day he watched him go into the countryside and return hours or even days later appearing to be in a drunken stupor that he barely ever seemed to sleep off.
When he did notice he was finally resting, which generally was in the barn, Alec would point out new cuts and scrapes that he seemed to collect on his travels about the villages. He also would try his best to discuss his distaste of Jamie's erratic behavior of late. Hoping that of everyone at the Castle, Murtagh might be able to pull him through this dark time.
Unbeknownst to the clan, Murtagh had a contact within the watch who finally, after much bartering, threw him a scrap of information. The name of a country which pointed him towards Daniea's current hunting grounds.
Hours he mulled over the information. Should he let it go and respect her wishes? Go himself just to check in on her? Or tell her fool of a husband ?
Yet as another bloody sunrise rose he finally decided to damn the consequences. He couldn't stand to not only see Jamie in such a state but wonder what kind of hell the lass was going through. Once his research had been completed he approached Jamie in the tavern; as he walked towards him he noted that Jamie appeared to be talking to someone but he wasn't quite sure who.
"I know where she is." Murtagh stated as he lumbered up to the table.
"Where?" Jamie pleaded, leaning towards the older man across the table.
Murtagh took a deep breath unsure he should hand out the information as he studied the run-down drunk before him; but as he sipped from his newly brought cup of ale, he noticed Jamie staring back at him.
No. Not at him ...through him. His eyes glazed over and eerily silent.
"Paris." Murtagh blurted out seeming to bring Jamie back to reality. "Just follow the line of corpses in their brothels." He huffed, downing the cup in a swift motion.
Jamie nodded, tossing coins onto the table and exited the tavern without another word.
It had been a month since she was sent to France and two since she left Leoch; but even her father couldn't believe the transformation she had achieved in such a short period of time. Her hunting routine now second nature.
One, identify mark.
Two, seduce and get any information Taran required from said man.
Three, kill mark.
Within just four small weeks she had already dropped eleven corpses of aristocrats and high end targets without feeling a single emotion. The only bright light in her life was a young french boy who lived as she use to, within the shadows of the brothels. Every afternoon when she rose from bed he would scurry in like the little mouse he was and she would share her meals with him.
It had been two days since she had received the identity of her newest prey but had yet to be introduced to them. So she went about her evening as any other woman in her line of "work". She bathed, carefully painted herself in such a way to highlight her light complexion, dark hair and emerald eyes. As Daniea sorted through the array of expensive gowns, hand made just for her form, she decided upon a blood red ensemble; a silent mockery of all the blood she had spilt.
Since she was the house's prized nighttime entertainer, she was thankfully excused from the bouts of time where the girls worked the room to earn their keep. But when the harp called as the clock struck midnight she gathered her skirts and headed down the stairs to begin her hunt.
Within seconds Daniea had scanned the entire room as she descended the staircase, no one matching her mark was attending the brothel once again. Irritation coursed through her, she just wanted to get this hunt over with but the target was making it more difficult it seemed.
Then as she glanced a second time, the face of one of Madam LaCord's regulars caught her attention as he eagerly waved her over to the dark corner he was situated at.
"Madam, you are simply stunning tonight." He cooed, kissing her hand as he had many a night.
"You are too kind, Monsieur." She replied, careful to sound as French as she could attain during her training.
She noted his incessant giggle as he pulled out an overflowing purse of coins, and dropped it into her waiting palm.
"Tonight is for celebrating, I shall take these fine ladies." He gestured to the fair haired women circling him at his table.
"And please Madam Renard, would you please entertain my cousin?"
She forced a smile upon her face at the request, already calculating the amount of sleeping draught she would ply the fool with as soon as she could.
She quickly glanced around once more before replying, " But of course, it would be my pleasure."
The man gestured to the corner shrouded in darkness. Daniea stretched her arm forward only to discover it was Jamie who was taking her hand.
His presence caught her completely off guard, as did his outfit. A highlander did not stand before her but a French nobleman.
"Would you like to remain here monsieur or go somewhere with more privacy?" She recited, trying her best to not let the panic she was feeling meet her eyes.
"Privacy!" Jamie's cousin bolstered, "This one needs to learn how to live again, I fear he is turning into a ghost." He jested patting Jamie heartedly on the back.
"Madam, would you work your dark magic on him? Please!" He added.
Daniea bowed low, trying to control her breathing as the familiar feel of Jamie's calloused palm gently held her hand.
When she rose, she pulled Jamie along around the house to the most secluded of the rooms, careful to lock the door once inside.
She released his hand as soon as she heard the bolt click into place. She strode over to the bed frame using it for support as a million different thoughts raced through her mind.
She knew he had been searching for her, but she had no idea he was in France. The Watch's eyes were everywhere, it was only a matter of time before Taran discovered his presence. Tonight there was no one she recognized, but that didn't mean his spies weren't lurking. Dammit all to Hell, she had to protect him. She had to make him leave and never come back, no matter how much she ached for him to stay. If anyone came she would be ready.
"Are you alright Mistress?" He quietly asked, as he saw her visibly shaken.
Daniea couldn't hold back her mild hysteria as she replied, no longer trying to hide her Irish accent.
"Mistress? A bit formal for a highland brute." She quipped, trying to replace her terror with rage.
Push him away! Her heart screamed at her. Get him to safety!
"I didn't mean to be here. It was pure accident." He replied, his voice soft and shallow.
"Accident? Are you truly telling me James Fraser that you didn't come all the way to France to find me?"
"Well," Jamie scratched his head, "I did, but not here...not tonight."
The hysteria threatened to take over her being. This couldn't be a coincidence. She had to get to her weapons. Now!
"I will go and ye will never have to see me again. I just wanted to know if you were safe and ...happy mistress." He made sure to add.
Timid. He was being so timid and respectful. No sign of the anger she left him with. This was the time she could maybe start over with him but it was too late. She had to do anything to keep him from Taran, even if it meant hurting him all over again.
"Oh is that all? Safe and happy...safe and happy, you crossed the damned ocean to see if I was safe and happy!" Her voice taking on a harsher growl with every word.
Daniea waited for him to respond but out of nowhere he dropped to his knees, his eyes reddening as if tears welled to the surface.
"Jamie?" Daniea called, unsure of how to continue. So she turned her back to him and made her way behind the dressing curtain to allow him a minute with his thoughts. Months of practice taught her how to escape the confines of her finery within seconds. She quickly checked to make sure all her hidden blades remained covered as she swaddled herself in a black dressing robe.
When she stepped around the curtain Jamie was once again leaning against the door. His hands tucked behind his back, his face pale and beaded with sweat.
"If that is all. Yes I am safe and I am happy. Now don't let the door hit you on the arse on yer way out." She spat, trying to get him to leave.
"You deserve all the happiness in the world Daniea, I hope this life makes you happy." Jamie whispered.
His face contorted an instant later, sweat dripping into his collar now.
"Jamie?" Daniea called, worry now taking over.
"Excuse me mistress?" He answered, his eyes never meeting her face.
"Jamie, what's wrong?"
Minutes passed before he finally answered.
"No. I was furious with you, and drunk. So drunk in fact I thought you actually could have been sent by the fae to bewitch me. I had never felt such need and love for something as I did with you. It drove me mad woman. You drove me mad. Yet that was no excuse, so no. No, it wasn't worth it."
Daniea's brow drew together, concern plastered on her face as Jamie swayed a bit before her. His rant making absolutely no sense to her.
"And just so you know mistress I haven't touched either since. No drink and no…"
"Yer a free man, ye can do whatever ye choose." Daniea reassured him, taking careful watch of his face.
"Aye, but my temper, stubbornness and drink all cost me my life."
His eyes rolled into the back of his skull for a moment as he fought to stay standing.
"Ye are sounding of nonsense." She told him honestly as she half stepped towards him.
"No! You were my life. My only reason for being." He argued.
"Jamie." She murmured, finding her words had left her.
"Please Daniea, just can we talk, just this night?"
Hurt him to save him. Hurt him to save him. Hurt him to save him.
"I'm sorry Jamie but no. I...I can never forgive ye." She choked out, trying her best to keep herself together. "I can't ever be with ye again."
Again his face contorted in agony as he lost balance and slammed against the door.
"I'm sorry, so so sorry Mo fiadhaich aon. I will do anything, be anything fer ye." he gasped, unable to catch his breath.
Utter fear crept into her body as she saw him falling apart before her very eyes, but she had no time,she could hear the faint steps of someone coming up the backway to her room.
"No Jamie, I can't. You Must Go!" She ordered.
"Daniea please?"
"Jamie leave me be!" She growled.
The sounds crept closer, they were almost at her door. A gasp of panic escaped her.
"Go Jamie and never look for me again!" She growled in his ear, pushing him out the front door and locking it in his face.
Seconds. Mere seconds between getting Jamie quietly out of her room and the back mirror swinging open to reveal her informant.
"Slow night?" He asked, curious to find her already settled in for the night.
"He didn't show. Again." She hissed, using her emotions to her advantage. "Are you sure he will be making an appearance here? Or have you gotten your information wrong."
"I….I…" He stuttered.
"You what? One more night such as this and I will make sure my father knows of your complete and utter incompetence. Do I make myself clear!"
"Ye...yes malady. I will not fail you."
"Then get what I need and leave me be!"
Without another word he disappeared once again out the back leaving a shattered Daniea in his wake.
Three days it took Daniea to eliminate her illusive mark; and on the fourth her father had already lined up and introductions had been made with her next, the Comte . To her benefit the gentleman was extremely easy to manipulate. He was just as proud and narcissistic as her father, if not more so. She easily flirted and praised him, quickly he wanted more but she held him at bay. He was trying his best to caress her leg when she spotted Jamie enter the house. At the first opportune moment, she lowered her lashes, feigning timidity to glance over at him. Once again he appeared pale and sweaty. He drank deeply of his wine glass as his eyes bore into her.
Every now and then she risked a glance and soon he looked to be painfully asleep in the corner. Within an hour and forcing her mark to over indulge in wine, he finally had to excuse himself to relieve his bladder. Thankfully he was slow and stumbled all the way up the stairwell.
Daniea took the time to rush over to Jamie. She felt his face which was burning up. She had to think quick. Dashing to the kitchen just a few feet away she gathered a few herbs that should help lower his fever, and was quick to toss them into his wine glass before retaking her seat.
_The herbs did indeed do their job because Jamie hadn't felt so good and his mind so clear in many days; just in time to see his wife strapped to his lifelong torment. The whipping post. He pushed his horse harder with every lash they released upon flesh. It was lucky that Fergus came to him when he did because they only managed to dole out eight of the fifty lashes.
Nine.
Ten.
Jamie stood strong against the whip, his only focus was to spare Daniea as she sagged against him. It wasn't until Jamie released her from his arms that she finally succeeded to see through the pain. Jamie's mind however was clear and focused as he began to remove his jacket.
His words drifted in and out of focus as she rode the waves of agony, but as he agreed to take the remaining forty lashes of her punishment; a punishment that she did indeed deserve, she broke.
"No.." She whispered, trying to protest but only managed the most meager of responses. The pain in her back truly giving her a sense of what Jamie had survived at Fort William and she couldn't bear for him to do this.
She looked on in horror as they unshackled her and laid her to rest at the base of the post; while he removed his shirt and bared his shame for all too see. He leaned down and gently stroked her cheek.
"I deserve this for every pain I have caused you Mo fiadhaich aon."
Daniea wanted to scream and yell at the top of her lungs that he was wrong. To please let her pay for her crimes. To run away from her but her voice ceased to work as the lashes began again.
Scalding tears ran down her face as she looked on, yet as the blood splashing around his back kept shifting she noticed something that most would dismiss. Small veins darker than they should be were leaching forth from his lower back. She knew then and there that she would risk Taran's wrath to know for sure if her hunch was right.
Once she had settled into Jared's house after the ordeal, she gave his servant a very important list of ingredients to get from Master Raymond. She tended to her back quickly and spent the rest of her time pacing the floor until they returned with the herbs.
She made quick work of the poultices as she waited for Jamie.
"Sit on the stool." She instructed just as she had many a time over the past year.
He couldn't help but express his pain as the bloodied clothes were pried from his body.
"I have to clean the wounds first, so try and stay still."
He nodded.
"Don't you need too.." He pointed at the poultices.
"I already had Suzette apply it earlier." She lied as she tried to concentrate on washing his back. She gently cleaned off as much blood as she could, praying that her eyes had indeed been playing tricks on her; but as she ran the cloth over that spot one last time she had to stifle her scream as the black veins that no longer were solely on his back but were now leaching around his torso.
Her hands shook as she applied the layers of herbs that would hopefully draw out the toxin. Not stopping until every single cut and slice on him was doused in the mixture. She couldn't allow the veins to reach his heart.
As she cleaned her hands she noticed once again Jamie was staring off into the distance in an alarming manner.
"Jamie?" She called, trying to get him to look at her. Gently she placed her hands on his chest, "Jamie!" She beckoned again. This time he looked her way.
She released a sigh of relief.
"Seeing you take those lashes for me...it broke me." She admitted, trying to start down a new path.
Silence
"Jamie?"
Again his stare was far away.
She quickly felt his head, his fever had returned with a vengeance. The whipping must have sped up some of the effects of the poison.
"Jamie, look at me!" She urged.
"Then you wish me death." he muttered to himself.
"James!"
"Oh no. Oh no no no no no!" She panicked.
"Help!" She screamed, "I need help in here!"
An array of servants came in but she ordered the older woman to take Fergus downstairs and to not let him worry while the men were to move Jamie onto the bed.
She then made another list of ingredients to retrieve as she refused to leave his side to get them herself.
"Jamie, Jamie listen to me. You're very very sick. I need you to focus on my voice and stay with me ok."
He blinked.
"James Alexander Malcolm Mckenzie Fraser!" She yelled as she shook him.
No recognition once again.
Hours later after mixing herbs into teas and forcing them down his throat, he finally seemed to fall asleep. His random mumbling and restlessness calmed. Daniea decided to question Jared and his staff about Jamie's behavior of late and all they could tell her was that he seemed a bit off ever since his arrival.
She couldn't identify the poison with Jamie in his current state, so she had to retrace his steps and how the symptoms progressed. By the time he got to France, he had a mild fever and was talking nonsense some days.
Days passed with no improvement, in fact he was getting worse so she had to make a choice. Try to get the information she needed through letters or take Jamie back to the source… Scotland.
Daniea secretly arranged everything and thanks to Jared's contacts, threw the watch off her track just long enough to board a ship with Jamie and Fergus, disappearing into the night.
Daniea and Fergus took turns forcing him to drink fever brews and changing his back strips, and every so often she had to have men from the crew hold Jamie down when he had random violent reactions.
Hour after hour they spoke to him, begging for him to acknowledge their presence but they were only met with silence, sheer confusion or indistinct mumbling. The voyage unfortunately taking longer than she had hoped, but once they arrived at the port she used all her money to buy a wagon, horse and all the supplies she needed to make the three day journey to Leoch; and hopefully once there she would get the answers she needed to save Jamie's life.
