13 March, 1770

River Run, North Carolina

BRÈAGHA POV

Those practice contractions were driving her to insanity. Caoimhe had said that it wasn't uncommon for the body to undergo what she called 'Braxton-Hicks Contractions', which she had described as practice contractions, in the weeks leading up to the birth of a bairn. She had been experiencing them on and off, but they seemed especially bad tonight. They started at dinner, and Brèagha had to excuse herself to lie down, as she was incredibly uncomfortable. By the time Maevis returned - as she refused to sleep in another room claiming they both needed someone nearby when they went into labour - the pain was growing more and more intense, but Brèagha did her best to hide it. It was after midnight when Brèagha got up and tried to walk off the pain by pacing about the room. Maevis woke up from the disturbance in the bed and sat up, watching Brèagha pace about the room with her hand supporting her back.

"Are you all right, Bree?" Maevis asked her quietly, and Brèagha let out a small groan.

"Cannae sleep," she said irritably.

"Neither can I," Maevis replied with a small sigh. "Those practice contractions again?"

"Och, I cannae stand them," Brèagha replied, heading towards the fireplace to stoke the fire. She heard Maevis get out of bed and approach her from behind, then felt a blanket resting on her shoulders. When Brèagha caught sight of it, she realised it was a Fowlis of Barra tartan. "Where did ye get this? Tartans are banned."

"It's Uncle Cailean's," Maevis told her. "He gave it to Mama before she… went to the future… and she gave it to me when I was sent away during the war. I've had it all this time and… it brings me comfort."

"I… I havenae seen it in quite some time," said Brèagha softly, holding the tartan in her hands and looking at it. "They've been banned since before I was born. Occasionally, I've seen it. Archie used te carry around Mama's, but he'd never let me touch it…"

"You can touch this one, and if it gives you comfort, you can have it," Maevis told her, and Brèagha looked up at her to see Maevis smiling softly at her. She looked a little pale, but otherwise fairly normal. Brèagha's long red curls were loose down her shoulders, but Maevis's was plaited in two twin braids on either side of her face. Brèagha didn't say anything as she turned to look back at the fire, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. "Here, why don't I braid your hair back? Maybe it'll help make you more comfortable, I don't know."

"Whatever ye like," Brèagha said softly. Her relationship with Maevis had remained stagnant since Maevis slapped her across the face. It was embarrassing, but a short conversation with her brother and cousin made her realise that she had been a little unfair to her sister. Maevis was right when she said she hadn't asked to be born, she just was, and Brèagha blamed her for that, and just about every bad thing that happened to the Frasers since her arrival. Maevis had told her many times that all she had wanted was a sister, but Brèagha had been nothing but monstrous to her. She sighed softly and closed her eyes, giving in to her sister plaiting her long, thick hair in a single plait down her back. When she was finished, Brèagha realised that it did take a little bit of the stress off her shoulders to have her hair pulled back, and she nodded softly to her sister. "Thanks."

"Of course," said Maevis with a smile smile.

"Perhaps I can try te sleep now," Brèagha replied, and then she stood up. However, standing up didn't go as smoothly as she had anticipated. Suddenly, she felt an intense pressure on her bladder and when she stood, she felt a rush of warm fluids between her legs and she let out a startled gasp, stepping back to look at the puddle on the floor. Her cheeks turned bright red with shame, but when she looked up at Maevis, it dawned on her that she hadn't just pissed herself.

"Oh my God… Your water just broke," Maevis told her, and this made Brèagha's stomach drop. A sharp twinge in her back brought her to her knees as Maevis ran to the wall to pull the rope that signaled to the kitchens down below, and then she went out into the corridor. "Caoimhe! Caoimhe, come quickly!" As Brèagha moaned in pain, the activity of the house went from slow and quiet to rapid and loud. She felt Maevis at her side again as she helped her sister to stand and started leading her to the bed. "It's all right, come on. Slowly now…"

"What's happened? Is it time?" Caoimhe demanded as she stood in the doorframe.

"Her water just broke," Maevis told her.

"I'll go and get my things. Have her lie down on the bed. Phaedra!" Caoimhe called as she disappeared from the door, and Brèagha let out a frustrated grunt.

"I'm no' an invalid!" she shouted irritably.

"No one thinks that, Bree," Maevis told her, sitting her down on the bed as Clara appeared in the doorframe next.

"Is everything all right? I heard shouting, is it the baby?" she asked, and when Maevis confirmed, she came into the room and helped Maevis get Brèagha on the bed.

"Oh, fer Bride's sake, leave me be!" Brèagha snapped at the both of them, yanking her hands away. "I can do it myself!"

"We're just trying to help-" Maevis began, but Brèagha cut her off.

"Havenae ye helped enough? Isnae it yer doin' that the father of my child isnae here?" Brèagha snapped at her. Clara looked up at Maevis with a somewhat surprised expression, and Maevis sighed.

"I'll just get out of your hair then," Maevis told her, and then she left.


CLARA POV

Once Caoimhe returned to check on Brèagha, Clara went in search of Maevis, finding her in the library. She was sitting in front of the fireplace nursing a bowl of broth when Clara joined her. "Are you all right?" she asked her sister-in-law, and Maevis sighed softly.

"Yeah," she said. "I know she's in pain. I think I would lash out, too."

"It still isn't your fault that Rory was taken," Clara told her. Archie had apprised her of the entire ordeal, and both she and Archie were of the opinion that Maevis's lady's maid, Lizzie, was at fault. "It was that girl, your maid."

"It wasn't Lizzie's fault, either. It was all just one big misunderstanding," Maevis told her, and then she sighed. "Where's Archie? He'll want to know about Brèagha, I'm sure."

"Something about a crow," said Clara, shaking her head. "I guess you know about it, too, but apparently, there's some belief that crows bring bad luck." At this, Maevis raised a brow.

"Is there? I didn't know that," said Maevis. "I grew up in New Jersey, and we see them as more of a nuisance than a bad omen, although… they are very smart. There's crows who, if you're nice to them, will bring you gifts. I had a friend, her name was Lilibet, and she used to feed crows. They'd bring her little things like bottle caps and pen caps, even money, sometimes."

"Bottle caps and pen caps?" Clara asked, raising a brow curiously. Archie mentioned something about Maevis occasionally saying strange things.

"Um… just little trinkets, I guess," Maevis told her, and then she sighed softly, looking down at her nearly empty bowl. "Phaedra gave me this and said I looked pale, but the smell of it is just upsetting my stomach."

"Why don't I take that and get you some tea?" Clara asked her, and Maevis nodded subtly, a slight look of discomfort growing on her face.

"Thanks, Clara," she said, forcing a small smile, and Clara left to take the bowl to the kitchen and bring up a cup of tea. She was used to servants doing that for her, but it was a nice change for Clara to be able to do it herself, at her own pace. Being forced to rely on others sometimes drove her to madness, and had she married George, surely, she wouldn't have been allowed to lift a finger. It gave Clara a small sense of power to be able to do even the simplest things like making tea herself. As she came down the stairs, the front door opened and Archie, looking a bit tired and disgruntled, stepped in, then raised a brow at the somewhat urgent look on her face.

"What's goin' on? Is everrathin' all right?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

"Brèagha's gone into labour," she told him calmly, and his eyes widened immensely. "It's all right, last I checked, she was doing well."

"Already?" Archie asked as if she hadn't said the second thing.

"Well, we knew it was going to happen sooner or later. Your sisters are both past due anyway," Clara told him as she continued on her way to the kitchen, Archie following closely behind.

"What's the bowl fer?" Archie asked her somewhat stupidly.

"It was a bowl of broth that Phaedra gave Maevis. She was looking a little pale and unwell, so I said I'd take it and get her some tea," Clara answered him as they went into the kitchen. She gave the bowl to one of the slaves. "Please put the kettle on for tea."

"Yes, ma'am," said the slave, doing as she had said.

"Maevis isnae in labour, too, is she?" Archie asked her.

"No, but I imagine she's due any day, as well," Clara told him. "Are you all right?"

"Just worrit," he said softly. "I ken everrathin' will be all right, and I trust Caoimhe, but… Well, my aunt died in childbirth and it was awful. My mother didnae have an easy time of it, either, when Ginnie was born. It was hard te have te listen te her screams… It was like she was bein' tortured."

"I remember when my mother had Linny," said Clara. "I was worried about her, too. I was much younger than you were, but the screams were an awful fright. I thought she might die."

"I ken many women die in childbirth," said Archie. "My cousin, Beitiris, died in childbirth. Well, my mother's cousin, but mine as well, I suppose." They were both interrupted and somewhat startled by a shrill, piercing scream from upstairs, which was somewhat muffled as it made its way into the kitchens. "Is this how it'll be?"

"You mean with me?" Clara asked him, subconsciously resting her hand on her own belly. It was still relatively flat, but she could almost feel the small flutter of life inside. Caoimhe estimated that she was likely somewhere between eight and ten weeks, meaning that her child would be due in autumn, but it was definite that she was with child. It made her somewhat nervous, especially now while she listened to Brèagha wail with pain and misery, but she was also excited. Though this child was little more than the size of a small bird, she already loved it more than anything in the world. It was a piece of her and of her beloved Archie, and she would gladly risk her life for the tiny little thing inside of her. "I suppose so…"

"If my mother were here… she'd have somethin' te cut the pain," said Archie, his eyes filled with fear. "It hurt te be shot in the arm… I cannae imagine how much this hurts. Pushin' a bairn out of yer cunny. I ken how small of a hole that is, and I ken how big a bairn can be."

"You're making me a bit nervous now," Clara told him with a small, uneasy laugh.

"Sorry," he said softly, turning to look at her. "Perhaps I should go and check on her?"

"Do you think seeing a man right now will make her happy? After all, a man was what put her in this predicament," Clara told him with mild amusement.

"If she kicks me out, I willnae feel slighted," Archie said, giving her a small smile.

"You do that, then. I'll bring tea to your other sister and keep an eye on her," Clara said with a soft smile. Archie bent forward to plant a brief kiss on her lips, and then he left the kitchen, leaving Clara somewhat uneasy about the baby growing inside of her.


ARCHIE POV

Archie knocked gently on the door and was admitted by Phaedra, and he removed his hat as he stepped into the room. Brèagha was on the bed already drenched with sweat and wrapped up in Uncle Cailean's Fowlis of Barra tartan, and he recalled that Mama had wrapped Brèagha in her own tartan the day that she had been born. He was young, of course, but he could vividly remember her screams from that dark October night, and he remembered many nights of being tucked into that tartan as she held him sweetly in her arms, giving him comfort, even when she was the one who needed it more. "Hey, there's my wee sister," said Archie as he approached Brèagha's bedside, bending over and lightly kissing her head. "How're ye feelin'?"

"How do ye think I'm feelin', ye daft wee gabbot?" Brèagha demanded from him, and Archie chuckled softly.

"I've an idea," he said. "I was there when Mama had Ginnie, and she just aboot ripped Da's throat out. Och, she just aboot ripped everraone's throats out. She was furious." Brèagha gripped his hand and nearly squeezed it to death as she endured another pain.

"I see why!" she exclaimed through gritted teeth, and Caoimhe came over with a wet cloth to dab her forehead with.

"Aye, I remember. Auntie Cat showed a side of herself that I certainly have never seen before," she said.

"I've the iron te put in the bed," came Jocasta's voice, and Archie looked up to see her enter the room assisted by Phaedra. "Put this beneath her bed, will ye, Phaedra?"

"Aye, Miss Jo," said Phaedra, sitting Jocasta down on the settee.

"Och, why must I have an audience?" Brèagha exclaimed with annoyance.

"Have ye the birthin' chair ready, my dear?" Jocasta asked Caoimhe.

"The what?" Brèagha demanded, lifting her head to look up at her cousin.

"Aye, but if Bree doesnae want the birthin' chair, then she willnae have it," Caoimhe told her. "Auntie, why dinnae ye join Maevis in the library?"

"I should like te remain here. 'Tis always a joy when a bairn is born under the roof of River Run," said Jocasta, and Archie could feel the irritation radiating off of Brèagha, similarly to how Mama felt in this very same room when she gave birth to Ginnie and Jocasta was present.

"I tried," Caoimhe whispered to Archie and Brèagha, and Archie sighed softly.

"Is there anythin' I can do?" Archie asked his cousin.

"Ye can get this thing out of me and make this pain stop," Brèagha moaned, and Archie scoffed with amusement.

"I dinnae think ye want me doin' such a thing, Sister," he said with a chuckle of amusement. "Perhaps I should check on Maevis. Clara said she was lookin' a wee bit unwell."

"Is she?" Caoimhe asked him.

"Not this again!" Brèagha shouted. "I am the one in labour, am I no'?"

"Maevis could verra well go into labour, too, Bree. Yer bairns were conceived on the same day," Caoimhe reminded her, digging a few herbs out of her bag and then handing them to Archie. "Here, steep this into a tea. It's echinacea, nettle and peppermint. It might help, it might do nothin', but I imagine she's feelin' puir because she's due at any time as well."

"Aye," said Archie, accepting the tea, and then he brushed back a piece of hair from Brèagha's eyes and kissed her head again. "I'll come back and check on ye in a wee bit. I dinnae want te get in yers or Caoimhe's way."

"Ye could go te Hell if ye want, I dinnae care," Brèagha snapped at him, and he and Caoimhe shared a look.

"I'll start her on the cannabis," she said, and Archie took his leave.


CAOIMHE POV

It had been two hours since Caoimhe gave Brèagha the cannabis to smoke initially, and after giving her another round, Brèagha seemed to relax into bliss. She still occasionally groaned from the contractions, but she was resting a lot more comfortably. Auntie Cat was really onto something with this whole cannabis thing. Caoimhe had been checking her periodically and she was still only about three centimeters dilated, almost four, so it was going to be a long, long night. She left Jocasta and Phaedra to keep an eye on Brèagha while she went to the library to check on Maevis, who was being kept company by Clara and Archie, but the sight that met her shocked her to her core. Maevis was on the floor hunched over a bucket, with Clara rubbing her back and Archie holding the bucket still for her. "What's goin' on?" Caoimhe asked with alarm.

"Oh, she's very nauseous," Clara said calmly as she rubbed Maevis's back, and Maevis let out a small, but long groan. "I wonder if the baby is causing her humours to be unbalanced?"

"Humours are just a myth. Somethin' tha' male physicians created te make it difficult fer the ordinary person te understand," Caoimhe told her.

"But there is so much knowledge on the humours. How can it be so?" Clara asked her.

"I dinnae ken, but 'tis what Auntie says, and though I dinnae always understand her, she has yet te give me a reason te doubt her," Caoimhe said as she knelt down beside Maevis and pushed one of her plaits back, feeling her face. "Christ, yer feverish…" she said, and then she pulled Maevis's shift away from her feet to look at her ankles. "And yer ankles are swollen… Oh, Bride, I was afeared of this."

"Afeared of what?" Archie demanded from her.

"What Auntie Cat called pre-eclampsia," said Caoimhe sternly, sitting Maevis back against the settee with the bucket in her lap. "I'm sorry, Maevis, but we cannae wait any longer. I have te induce yer labour."

"Wh-what…" Maevis muttered softly as Caoimhe dug into her bag looking for something that could work. Auntie Cat said that if it was necessary, irritating the bowels was the best way to naturally induce labour. Castor oil could be good, but it would take too long. No, she needed something more immediate… She pulled out a vial labelled Frangula purshiana - bitter cascara. She recalled Auntie Cat telling her about her experiences with bitter cascara in Paris. This would work. She grabbed the kettle that was sitting over the fire and quickly made a tea out of it, then placed it in Maevis's hands.

"Drink this, and quickly," she said.

"What… What about…. Bree…" Maevis said tiredly.

"Dinnae worry aboot yer sister, she's in no danger. It's you I'm concerned aboot just this moment," Caoimhe told her as she slowly sipped the tea.

"What should we do?" Clara asked Caoimhe softly.

"Take her te my chambers," Caoimhe told her, helping Clara assist Maevis to her feet. "Archie, just… stay here. I dinnae think Maevis will want ye around fer what's aboot te happen."

"What's aboot te happen?" Archie asked her.

"Dinnae fash aboot it. Just stay here, or go and speak te Jocasta. Tell her we're inducin' Maevis's labour, too," Caoimhe told him, quickly assisting Maevis to her own bedchamber. Poor Maevis was sick almost right away, from both ends, but thankfully, it didn't take long for her own waters to break. "Tha's it, good lass," said Caoimhe, rubbing her back as she vomited into a bucket.

"What… What's going to happen…" Maevis asked tiredly.

"What's goin' te happen is yer goin' te have yer bairns as quickly as we can manage," Caoimhe told her, and then she left Clara to take over while she created another herbal blend. "Ephedra vulgaris… No, no…" She picked up a vial labelled 'Ustilago', then she grabbed Auntie Cat's 'herbal medicines catalogue', as she called it until she found Ustilago, then quickly read what Auntie Cat had to say about it:

'Ustilago - made from fungi corn smut, used for inducing uterine contractions. Useful for inducing labour or hurrying it along. Can cause DIC, must be used conservatively. Give in small doses as needed. Only use in cases of emergency.'

What was DIC? Oh, forget it. Small doses were manageable. Caoimhe needed to get these bairns out of Maevis as quickly as she was able to, and it sounded like this Ustilago was going to do the job. As she prepared another tea for Maevis, she added a very small amount of Ustilago to it, then gave it to Maevis slowly. How long would this take to take effect? Would it work fast enough? Caoimhe was absolutely terrified out of her mind. She felt prepared enough to safety deliver a baby, but Auntie Cat did not prepare her for complications such as this.


BRÈAGHA POV

It was dawn now, as the sky was a mix of purple and orange and the sun was breaking over the horizon, and Brèagha was coming out of the latest dose of that smokable herb Caoimhe had been giving her. She awoke because she could hear screams coming from the room next door - Maevis's screams - and she jerked her head up at Phaedra, who came to dab her forehead again. "What's goin' on?" Brèagha demanded from her.

"Miss Maevis is havin' her babes," said Phaedra, and Brèagha's eyes widened.

"She what? What about me?" Brèagha demanded from her.

"It was an emergency. Miss Caoimhe says she could have died if she didna induce Miss Maevis's labour," Phaedra told her, and Brèagha huffed. Of course Maevis was going to steal this moment away from her, too. Maevis's situation was always more dire than hers-

"AGH!" came the tortured screams, and Brèagha nearly jumped out of her skin. It sounded like Maevis was being tortured… Almost like she was being torn apart from the inside. Would this be the end of her? Blessed Bride, she sounded horrified, frightened… and she was all alone. "Mama… I want Mama!" she heard Maevis cry, though it was muffled by the walls. Brèagha looked up at Phaedra, then let out a small huff and sat up.

"Help me up, Phaedra," Brèagha said as Phaedra dropped what she was doing to assist Brèagha.

"Ye must lie down, Miss Bree," Phaedra told her, but it was a pointless thing to say.

"I can lay down next to Maevis," Brèagha told her, looking towards the door when she heard a tortured moan. "She needs me right now…" Phaedra assisted Brèagha to Caoimhe's bedchamber, where Maevis was, and as the tortured screams grew louder, Brèagha grew even more uneasy. Like Brèagha, Maevis was young and she was enduring one of the most frightening things that a woman could endure. She longed for her mother, but Mama couldn't be there, because Brèagha had demanded that Mama go with Da and Ian to find Rory. It was Brèagha's fault that the two of them were going through this terrifying and traumatic experience alone… Well, Maevis didn't have to go through this alone. Phaedra led Brèagha into the room just as Caoimhe was pulling one of the bairns out of her sister.

"Tha's it, Maevis, tha's it, yer doin' wonderful!" Caoimhe was shouting as she assisted the tiny little head through such a small entrance. Brèagha hadn't actually realised how small of a hole it really was, and she had to refrain from looking to avoid being sick. "Och, the bairn's shoulders are stuck," Caoimhe said, and then she looked up at the door, first raising a brow at Brèagha and then noticing Phaedra. "Phaedra, I need yer help."

"Yes, Miss Caoimhe," said Phaedra.

"Och, is there trouble?" came Jocasta's voice, and Brèagha made her way to Maevis's bedside. Maevis hadn't noticed her yet, but her face was horribly scrunched up in pain. She was nearly the colour of the pillow she lay on, her red hair so bright in comparison, it looked like blood. She turned her head a little and looked up at Brèagha, seemingly not recognising her.

"Mama…" Maevis muttered weakly, slowly reaching for her sister. Brèagha took her hand and gave it a firm squeeze, then sat down on the bed beside her.

"I'm no' Mama… It's me, Maevis. Brèagha," Brèagha told her.

"Bree…" said Maevis tiredly.

"Shh, a phiuthar, save yer strength," Brèagha told her softly, gently rubbing Maevis's hand. "Listen te me. Mama cannae be here, but I can. Yer no' goin' through this alone… I'm here fer ye. Do ye understand me?" Maevis nodded weakly, then closed her eyes again.

"Give me one more push, Maevis, wi' all yer strength!" Caoimhe exclaimed, and gathering up every bit of strength she had, Maevis scrunched up her face as she pushed, and then came the wailing of a newborn bairn.

"Oh, she's gorgeous!" Caoimhe exclaimed once the bairn was free, and Brèagha couldn't help but take a peek at her brand new niece. The wee thing had a dusting of fiery red hair that was nearly the same colour as her pink skin and her face appeared squished, but she cried and screamed with all the strength of a healthy babe. "Ye've such a bonny wee daughter!"

"Hmm…" Maevis answered sleepily, and Brèagha shook her shoulder lightly.

"Ye have a daughter, Maevis, and she's such a bonny wee thing," said Brèagha as Caoimhe cut the cord and wrapped the infant in a blanket Phaedra had produced. "Give her here," Brèagha said, reaching for the child. The bonny little girl had very clear Fowlis features, with sweet little slanted Fraser eyes. Brèagha smiled down at her niece in her arms, then delicately laid the newborn bairn down beside her mother, who slowly moved her head to look at her.

"Oh…" Maevis muttered softly, smiling a little at her daughter. "She's… beautiful…"

"She is, isnae she?" Brèagha asked her, smiling a little. "I think she's just stolen my so-called title of the 'bonniest lass in North Carolina'." Maevis chuckled a little, then she raised one weak hand to give her finger to the little girl, who had reduced her crying to a small coo.

"Look at her," Archie chimed in, appearing on Maevis's other side beside Clara. "She looks just like ye, Maevis."

"Aye, she does," said Brèagha.

"I really hate te interrupt, but there's still another bairn te deliver," said Caoimhe, who was completely in doctor mode, as Maevis said whenever she examined them.

"Oh… No, I… I don't have the strength…" Maevis said weakly.

"Yes ye do," said Brèagha, gripping Maevis's hand firmly. "I'm right here fer ye."

"Aye, and so am I," said Archie, taking her other hand.

"I'll take her for a second," said Clara, reaching for the little girl and plucking her from the bed.

"When yer ready," Brèagha told her, and then she quickly took the tartan off of her own shoulders and laid it on Maevis's. "Ye have the strength not only of yer brother and sister, but the whole of the clan."

"And tha's sayin' somethin," said Archie, bending down to kiss Maevis's head. "Ye've got this, a phiuthar. Ye've the strength of a thousand years of Fowlises."

"Our clan hasnae even been around tha' long," Caoimhe commented. "All right, Maevis. I can feel this one's wee bum, so I'm afraid we'll have te shift yer position."

"What…" Maevis asked weakly.

"It's comin' out the wrong way 'round," Caoimhe replied. "Dinnae fash, Cousin, ye've got yer brother and yer sister at yer side. No harm will come te ye."

"This will all be over soon, Maevis. Ye just have te get through this next part and it'll all be over, and then ye'll have yer two bonny bairns safe in yer arms," Brèagha told her as she, Archie, Caoimhe and Phaedra assisted Maevis into a seated position at the edge of the bed while Clara brought the bairn to meet Jocasta. Caoimhe then positioned herself between Maevis's legs and pushed down on her belly a little.

"All right, just a few more pushes, Maevis, all right?" Caoimhe said to her, and Maevis complied as best as she could, collapsing against her siblings. Brèagha struggled to remain upright, as her own contractions were absolutely debilitating, but right now, her sister needed all of her strength.

"I can't do it," Maevis cried weakly, tears forming at her eyes, and Brèagha used the tartan to wipe them away.

"Aye, ye can, because yer a Fowlis and Fraser. There's nothin' we cannae do," Archie said to her, glancing up at Brèagha as she grimaced through her own contraction.

"Bree, are ye all right?" Caoimhe asked, taking notice of her cousin.

"Aye," Brèagha answered through gritted teeth. "Aye, I'll be fine."

"Let's get this weeun out as quickly as we can," said Caoimhe. "I've her wee bum in my hand."

"Another lass?" said Archie, smiling a little.

"Aye, another lass," Caoimhe confirmed. "Little pushes now, we dinnae want te harm the bairn." Maevis groaned as she pushed lightly, and Caoimhe assisted the bairn's legs out into the world. "She's wi' us up te her waist now. Little pushes, Maevis. Little pushes!" It didn't take too long for the bairn to be out up to her neck, her back facing Caoimhe, but this was where the difficult part came in. "I need ye lean back just a wee bit, Maevis. I'm goin' te push on yer belly here, her chin is stuck."

"I'll help ye," Brèagha told her sister, supporting her along with Archie as Maevis leaned backwards.

"You… your… baby…" Maevis muttered through heavy breaths.

"One bairn at a time," Brèagha told her, grasping her hand with her free one.

"All right, on my count, Maevis, I'll need ye te push. No' too hard and no' too soft, all right?" Caoimhe asked her, and Maevis nodded. Archie took a moment to wipe a bit of sweat off of her face with a damp cloth. "One… two… three!" Maevis let out a sharp scream as she pushed one final time, and then came the screams of the second wee bairn. This one was just as bonny as the first, but she was fair-haired instead of gingery, and she was a little smaller than the first. "And here she is! Another bonny wee lass!"

"She's so bonny," said Brèagha supportively, looking at the little infant. Caoimhe wrapped her up nice and warm as well while Phaedra and Archie assisted Maevis back onto the bed, Brèagha stepping aside as another contraction overtook her.

"Let me see," said Maevis tiredly. "I want my babies…"

"Here they are," said Clara as she came over, and she and Caoimhe each placed the wee bairns in Maevis's arms, and as Maevis looked upon the faces of her daughters, she began to cry.

"They're so perfect… Hi, babies," she said to them happily.

"Ye've two verra fine bonny lassies," said Jocasta from the other side of the room. "The first wee lassie has all her wee fingers and toes. I counted them myself."

"So does the second," Caoimhe said happily, rinsing off her hands with warm water. Phaedra came over with a small teacup of beef tea.

"Ye must drink this fer your strength, Miss Maevis," Phaedra told her, and Maevis complied, though she made a face at it.

"Aye, it isnae verra good, is it?" Brèagha asked, rubbing her own swollen belly a little, and Maevis chuckled softly.

"Not even a little," she said tiredly, and then she looked up at her sister, smiling gently. "Thanks… I'm glad you were here." Brèagha smiled slightly in return, but then grimaced as a harsh contraction overtook her.

"Right, let's get this weeun out next, shall we?" said Caoimhe as she came over to assist Brèagha back to her own bed.

"No," said Brèagha, brushing her off. "I'd like te stay here."

"But-" Caoimhe began.

"Please… let her," Maevis replied. "It's my turn… to support her…" Caoimhe sighed.

"Verra well, but then it'll be off te sleep fer ye both after," she ordered them. Brèagha was very near her time, but not quite there yet, so she sat beside Maevis and they talked about what names Maevis wanted to choose for her daughters. Archie was sent off to fetch three documents so that the births of the bairns could be registered, and Clara was sent to rest for a little while as Brèagha continued to labour.

"I made a small list," said Maevis, presenting the list that she had asked Phaedra to fetch from her bedside table in the other room, and Brèagha took it to read.

"Aster, Daisy, Holly, Ivy… Och, dinnae call them 'Holly' and 'Ivy'," said Brèagha, and Maevis laughed gently.

"I'm not even really… looking at the flower names anymore," she said. She glanced up at the window, where a lark had started building its nest, then smiled down at the little fair-haired infant that was holding onto her little finger in her arms. The red-haired infant was fast asleep in Brèagha's arms. Softly, Maevis started to sing.

"Out in the field where the lark, it flies

Over the earth where my heart, it lies…

Oh, how it sings when the west wind blows,

Out in the field where no one goes.

Oh, how I'm cold. Will you let me in?

If you could hear me speak, where would I begin?

Time it is past now and I roam free,

Is it wrong to wish you still need me?"

The little infant cooed softly, and Maevis smiled down at her daughter. "Do you like that song?" she asked her, pausing for a moment. "Little Lark…"

"Lark? Like the bird?" Brèagha asked her. "'Tis a bonny name."

"Do you think it suits her?" Maevis asked her, and Brèagha looked down at her niece, smiling a little.

"Aye… I think it does," she said, and then it was Maevis's turn to smile.

"Now I just have to think of a middle name," she said. "Maybe… Elizabeth. She reminds me a little of my friend, Lilibet."

"The lass from yer time?" Brèagha asked quietly, and Maevis nodded.

"The girl who dressed like a rainbow," she replied, smiling a little. "She always wore colourful clothes and… even her hair was rainbow-coloured."

"Her hair?" Brèagha asked with surprise, and Maevis nodded.

"I'll explain it… another day," she said softly. "Lark Elizabeth Fraser…"

"A bonny name fer a bonny wee lass," Brèagha told her, and then she gestured to her other niece, who slept peacefully in her arms. "What of this one?"

"I think I want to call her 'Wren'," said Maevis, smiling as she looked at her other daughter. "And I'd like to name her… after her aunt."

"After Ginnie?" Brèagha asked, and Maevis shook her head. "After me?" Maevis nodded gently, a soft smile on her face. "But… 'Brèagha' doesnae sound so good wi' Wren, and… and I've been horrible te ye…"

"You're still my sister," Maevis told her, and Brèagha looked up to meet her eyes, her face red with shame.

"Ye've been nothin' but good te me… Even made sacrifices fer me that ye didnae have te… and all I did was cause ye pain," she said sadly, and Maevis rested one of her hands on Brèagha's.

"Water under the bridge," she said, smiling confidently at her sister, and then sang a line of a song.

"Like a bridge over troubled water,

I will lay me down.

Like a bridge over troubled water,

I will lay me down…

Sail on, silver girl,

Sail on by…

Your time has come to shine,

All your dreams are on their way…"

She chuckled softly to herself. "Simon and Garfunkel… A gift to the world. What about 'Brianna' then? Wren Brianna Fraser."

"I suppose that'll do," said Brèagha softly, gently touching the face of her wee niece. She grimaced a little as a sharp contraction overcame her, conveniently right as Caoimhe returned from fetching more hot water.

"Let's have a look at ye, shall we?" she said. Maevis set Lark down on the bed beside her and took Wren from Brèagha, then Brèagha endured the uncomfortable sensation of Caoimhe checking what she called her cervix. "Ten centimetres dilated. 'Tis time."

"Already?" Brèagha asked with worry, her eyes wide with fright.

"Don't worry," said Maevis, taking her sister's hand and giving it a firm squeeze. "I'm right here." Brèagha's birth had gone a lot smoother than Maevis's had, and within twenty minutes, Brèagha cradled the bonniest braw wee lad she had ever seen, and Jocasta said that they would choose his birthday wisely to ensure he was born in wedlock. Although holding Rory's son in her arms, she couldn't marry Lord John now… He had Rory's eyes, but her bright red hair, and definitely resembled the Fraser that he was. But when it came to naming him, Brèagha's smile faltered… She just couldn't name her son without Rory. She decided to wait until, at the very least, her parents returned, and hopefully, they had Rory with them.


25 March, 1770

MAEVIS POV

It was a warm day for once, so Maevis sat outside with her daughters along with her brother, who held Lark in his arms and sang softly to her, and Clara, who looked as if her heart would burst at the sight of her husband holding a baby.

"There is a fair maid in this town

And she surely has my heart beguiled.

Her rosy cheeks, her ruby lips,

I own she has my heart enthralled.

So fill te me the parting glass,

Goodnight and joy be wi' ye all…"

"I cannae get past these bonny wee cheeks," said Archie, gently pinching his niece's cheeks. "I cannae believe I'm an uncle! Still shocked I lived te see the day."

"Oh, we all knew you would," Maevis told him with a soft scoff.

"I'm glad ye all had faith in me because I certainly didnae," Archie told her with slight amusement.

"Aye! Have they c-come?" came Geordie's voice from below the porch, and everyone turned to look at him. He stood with his hat in hand, his mousy brown hair tied back in a messy queue.

"Come and meet them, Geordie," said Maevis, beckoning him to join them, and he hopped up the stairs, first laying eyes on Lark in Archie's arms.

"Crivens," he said. "She's so b-b-beautiful! J-just like her mother!"

"Oh, stop," said Maevis, her cheeks turning pink. "Trust me, I don't feel very beautiful right now. They don't tell you all the horrors of life after the baby comes."

"Oh, don't tell me that!" said Clara in a playful tone, and Geordie then looked up at her with slight surprise in his eyes.

"C-congratulations, Mrs. F-Fraser!" he said. "What joyous news!"

"Thank you, Geordie," said Clara politely, and Geordie then knelt down beside Maevis to look at Wren, who looked up at Geordie with the prettiest little green eyes.

"Look at her… She looks just like her m-mother," said Geordie, gently giving the little girl his finger.

"Would you like to hold her?" Maevis asked him, and both Clara and Archie exchanged a somewhat alarmed glance, which Maevis ignored.

"Ah… I-I-I don't think that's a g- good idea," he said, twitching from nerves, and Maevis scoffed.

"Nonsense," she said, forcing her daughter into Geordie's arms, and Geordie seized up, not moving a single muscle, so as not to disturb the peace of the little girl. Maevis heard Archie let out a small breath of relief as Geordie continued to hold Wren without a single twitch. "See? You're fine!"

"I-I-I don't know h-how," he said, shaking a little as he fought off a twitch of his head, and he clicked his tongue in response.

"Maybe because you're a natural," Maevis told him with confidence, but Geordie shook his head.

"N-nnno… Take her b-back," he said, a little forcibly handing Maevis her daughter back, and he slapped the wall of the house.

"We'll work on it," Maevis told him with a smile. "I think you can do it."

"Maybe we should wait until the bairns are aulder," said Archie with unease, and Maevis scoffed lightly.

"Why? They're fine," she said, turning her attention back to Geordie and smiling.

"Oh! I m-meant to t-tell you," said Geordie with some strain. "D-Drusus came racing b-by the stables s-saying he saw riders c-coming down through M-Mr. Campbell's fields."

"Riders?" asked Archie, turning around, and he gasped when he spotted a distinctly unearthly shade of orange off in the distance - a shade of orange that also grew on Archie's, Maevis's and now Wren's heads as well. "Clara, go and get Bree and Caoimhe, quickly!" He shoved Lark into her arms and turned around again as Clara, confused, went inside to fetch Caoimhe and Brèagha.

"What is it?" Maevis asked, standing up, and she gasped when she, too, could see the mass of red out in the distance. "Is it…"

"It's Mama!" Archie exclaimed. "And Da, too!"

"And Elton!" Maevis exclaimed, and Archie leapt over the railing of the porch, landing on the ground with a firm thud, and taking off towards the riders. "But wait, there's only three! Where are Rory and Ian?" Maevis asked when she only counted three horses.


CATRÌONA POV

"'Twill be another mile or so," Jamie said to the rest of us as we rode our horses on the dusty road. There was still a slight chill in the air, but it was warm, and I was glad of it - after spending months trekking through the mountains in frigid temperatures, I didn't want to see another cold day for quite some time. Surely, I'd take that back when summer brought in hot temperatures, as I much preferred cold weather to hot. "Ye havenae been te River Run yet, Elton."

"No, I havenae," he said. "Caoimhe told me it was a plantation house."

"A verra large plantation house," I chimed in. "Yer Auntie Jocasta and late Uncle Hector made quite a name fer themselves, and a home."

"Aye, 'tis verra big. The land isnae as big as the Ridge, but still grand," Jamie told him.

"Ye all right back there, Rory?" I asked, turning to look at Rory, who was lagging behind.

"A mile, ye said?" he replied a bit nervously, and I could see that he was visibly sweating. It wasn't nearly hot enough for him to be sweating, so I could only guess that he was nervous. I couldn't blame him - I was nervous, too. It had been months since I had seen my son and my daughters, and by now, surely, Brèagha and Maevis had had their bairns, meaning I was already a grandmother. I mean, I was a grandmother already to wee Germain, but that was different. Germain wasn't blood related to me and Fergus was already nearly ten years old when I was twenty-three, so it felt… different. Knowing that my own daughters that I gave birth to now had given birth to their own children made me a bit uneasy. I was only forty-nine, but I had been fairly young when I had both Archie and Brèagha - I was twenty-two when I had Archie and twenty-five when I had Brèagha. Maevis, on the other hand, was born when I was thirty-one. I certainly felt younger than I was, and a small part of me still couldn't see my children as anything other than the young children they had been when I saw them last. I had been robbed of chance to raise my children to adults, and knowing that my now adult children were starting lives of their own made me incredibly uneasy.

"Let's take a moment," I said, stopping my house and dismounting. Jamie let out a small huff and Rory, too, dismounted, and I made my way back to him. "Are ye all right?"

"I… I think I need a minute," he said to me, looking as if he would faint. "Or ten…"

"Easy, now. Have a seat here, against the fence. Put yer head between yer knees," I said, sitting him down and rubbing his back roughly. "What's brought this on? Are ye nervous te see Bree?"

"She'll have had the child by now," he said with some distress. "A child that didnae exist when we saw each other last…"

"Aye, 'tis a scary concept," I said to him, kneeling down next to him. "I ken ye decided te return wi' us, but… I hope ye dinnae regret that decision."

"Of course not," said Rory, now looking up at me. "I… I just… It didnae feel real until just now. I'm a father, and I… I never thought I would be. I never wanted te be."

"I felt a similar way when I kent I was goin' te see Brèagha fer the first time," I told him. "I already kent she was grown - I had already seen Archie - but it didnae quite seem so real te me until I was already at the castle." I sighed softly, then stood up and gave his shoulder a small squeeze. "Take whatever time ye need, but come soon. And if ye change yer mind… ye'd better clear out of this time as quickly as ye possibly can. I can assure ye, Jamie willnae give ye a second chance."

"I have yet te see my first chance," he answered me. "Just… tell Bree I'll be there soon."

"All right," I said, and then I went back to my horse and mounted it, ignoring the confused and also agitated expression on Jamie's face.

"What is it?" he asked me. "Has he changed his mind?"

"No, he's just… nervous, fer lack of a better word," I told him, clicking my tongue and urging the horse forward.

"Nervous?" Jamie demanded from me with a judgemental tone.

"I was nervous when I first met our grown children," I told him. "Remember how I didnae want te see Archie at first? He just needs a wee bit of time te collect himself, gather his courage."

"That was different. Yer bairns were grown, his was just born," Jamie said a bit harshly. "I wasnae nervous te meet my children fer the first time."

"Not everraone is like ye, Jamie," I told him, not even looking at him. "Now, hurry up. I want te see my children." We rode the last mile in silence, and as we approached River Run, we could see that there were two bright red heads on the porch along with a couple of dark-haired individuals. Fairly quickly, one of the red-haired figures started running towards us, and when I realised it was Archie, I quickly dismounted my horse.

"Mama!" Archie shouted as he ran towards us.

"Archie!" I called, and then he barrelled straight into me, practically lifting me off of my feet. "Oh, my wee lamb!"

"I missed ye so much, Mama!" Archie exclaimed, and then he pulled back to look at me. "Oh, but there's somethin' I must tell ye!"

"Aye? What is it?" I asked him, raising a brow, but he didn't get a chance to say anything because then Brèagha came running towards us.

"Mama!" she shouted.

"Bree, my darlin'!" I said, stepping away from Archie to embrace my daughter. I hadn't realised right away that she was carrying a small bundle in her arms, which was slightly squished between us. The bundle let out a small cry and my eyes widened when I realised that she was carrying my grandchild in her arms. "Oh… Is this…"

"Yer grandson, Mama," said Brèagha, smiling at me with pride as she introduced me to my grandson for the first time.

"Oh," I said, watching as she shifted the blanket of the bundle and showed me the little face inside of it. He was a big baby, and he had a small dusting of gingery hair on his little head. His eyes were green, just like Rory's, but it was Brèagha's - or rather, Jamie's features - that he possessed.

"Who's this weeun?" said Jamie from behind me, and Brèagha's attention turned to her father.

"Daddy!" she said, and then she embraced her father with one arm, Jamie carefully avoiding the little bundle so he didn't squish our grandson. "I'm so sorry, Daddy. I shouldnae have been so horrible."

"I deserved it, mo nighean," Jamie told her as he held his daughter and kissed the top of her head. "I should learn no' te let my temper take control of me."

"It was an accident," Brèagha told him, wiping tears from her eyes. "It doesnae matter now, does it?"

"No, it doesnae," said Jamie fondly, glancing down at his grandson in her arms. "And wha's the wee laddie's name?"

"Oh," said Brèagha, losing her smile. She glanced up briefly at Elton, who was conversing with Archie, before looking back at her father. "I… I havenae named him yet. I… was hopin' te do so wi' Rory. Where is he?"

"He should be along shortly," I said to her, then found myself suddenly being tackled by my younger daughter. "Maevis!"

"Mama, I'm so glad you're back!" she cried, embracing me tightly as I returned her embrace. Unlike Brèagha, Maevis didn't have a child with her, so when I pulled back to look at her sweet face and noticed her bump was missing, I couldn't help but raise a brow.

"Where's yer bairn, hen?" I asked her, a concerned expression on my face. Had she lost the child?

"Oh! Well, it's a bit of a different situation than Bree," she said, clearly not disheartened. "You see… there's two."

"Two?" I asked her. "Ye had twins?"

"Two beautiful girls," said Archie, chiming into the conversation.

"Their names are Wren and Lark," said Maevis with pride. "Wren was born first, and she has beautiful red hair and the prettiest little grey eyes, and Lark… well… she's fair-haired, and has green eyes." She looked like her father was what Maevis was saying.

"I… imagine they're the bonniest wee lassies in all the land," I said to Maevis, forcing a smile as she told me about her daughters. "I cannae wait te meet them. Where are they now?"

"Clara and Caoimhe have them," she said, turning to look back at the porch and waving to the dark-haired and fair-haired figures on the porch. The fair-haired figure, Caoimhe, waved back to us.

"Clara?" I asked. "No' Clara Ainsley?"

"Er… actually, it is Clara Ainsley," said Archie a bit awkwardly, coming forward. "A lot's happened since ye've been gone."

"Like what, lad?" Jamie asked him, a curious expression on his face.

"Er… Well… Besides the fact tha' im aulder, wiser… scarred from a duel…" he said.

"Scarred from a duel?" I demanded from him.

"The hell were ye thinkin', fightin' in a damn duel, lad?" Jamie demanded.

"I'm here, arenae I?" Archie asked him defensively.

"Ye verra easily couldnae have been!" I snapped back at him.

"Ye fought in a duel? What for?" Elton chimed in from behind us, and Maevis looked at her twin brother and smiled.

"Elton! I'm so glad to see you," she said, moving to embrace him, which he awkwardly returned.

"Ah… Well, it was against Clara's father, Mr. Ainsley…" Archie continued, clearly beating around the bush.

"Spit it out, lad," Jamie told him a bit irritably.

"Why were ye duellin' Mr. Ainsley?" I asked him, and he sighed.

"Because… Clara and I eloped," he said to us, and I felt my eyes widened. "She's my wife now… and on top of tha', she's also expectin' my child." His child?

"I didnae ken it was confirmed!" Brèagha exclaimed with a small gasp.

"Aye, Caoimhe confirmed it recently," Archie told her. "Ye were busy havin' a bairn."

"I guess that does keep one busy," said Maevis with a small chuckle.

"Ye… Ye marrit…" I said, finding myself in a state of shock. It was one thing for my daughters to have given birth, as I had had months to prepare for that but of knowledge, but Archie getting married? And the fact that he would soon be a father himself? What had happened to my wee lamb? Here he was, off to start his new life, leaving home, having a family… leaving me behind, just as I had him when he was a child. Was this payback for doing so?

"Will ye be movin' te Wilmington then?" Jamie asked him, but Archie shook his head.

"No, Clara's been all but disowned by her father," Archie told him. "He's left her nothin'. He willnae give me her dowry, which is fine, except fer the fact that I cannae support his daughter the way he wishes. We want te live on the Ridge, anyway." Under a different roof, surely, possibly far away enough from us where I wouldn't see my son every day.

"Mama? Are you okay?" Maevis asked, noticing that my face hadn't moved since Archie announced his marriage.

"Aye, I…" I said a bit softly. "Just… Two of my children marrit… Four grandchildren in less than a year…"

"Five, actually. Marsali's pregnant and will have her baby in May," said Maevis happily.

"Five…" I muttered, looking back at the porch, where Clara still stood holding one of my granddaughters. "Five."

"Catrìona," said Jamie suddenly, drawing my attention back to him. He was looking towards the road, where a rider had appeared - it was Rory. Brèagha gasped softly, unable to move for a moment. I watched as Jamie took his grandson from her and told her to go to him, and she took off running, leaping into Rory's arms and nearly knocking him off of his feet. "So he came. Good. I thought he would leave."

"I didnae think he would," said Elton, watching the two of them. "Ye should have seen them on the ship."

"He wouldnae have survived the trip," said Jamie a bit coldly. It was clear that he wasn't fond of Rory much, so it seemed that we both were not quite all right with our children being married.


RORY POV

As he rode towards River Run, Rory could see the three horses that belonged to Elton, Catrìona and Jamie and a group of people standing around them, likely their children coming to greet them. Next to Elton was Maevis - he recognised her based on the way she stood alone - and he caught a glimpse of a tall man standing near Catrìona that must have been Archie, the only of the Fraser children, save for the youngest, that Rory hadn't met yet. He caught Jamie's eye relatively quickly, and then suddenly, everyone was looking at him. He could see Brèagha, who was staring at him, and Rory brought his horse to a stop. He watched as Jamie took something Brèagha - a large object wrapped in a blanket - and then said something to her, and before he knew it, Brèagha was running towards him.

Wordlessly, Rory dismounted his horse and met her part of the way, opening his arms to her and catching her as she leapt into them. Without saying anything, she pulled back far enough from the embrace to grasp Rory's face and kiss him firmly, and then he pressed his forehead against hers. "I thought ye were gone forever…" she said softly.

"Nah, ye arenae that lucky," Rory teased her, and she smacked him lightly.

"Dinnae tease me like that!" she scolded him. "I really thought I would never see ye again…"

"I may be stubborn, but I'm no fool," he said to her. "I had many opportunities te escape, or die, but I kent both of those options meant I might never see ye again. I love ye, Brèagha, and I always will."

"I love ye, too," she said, her voice cracking a little, and she embraced him again, hugging him around the neck.

"I heard ye… were havin' a baby," he said after a moment, pulling back to look at her. "I must tell ye, I… didnae want children due te experiences that I cannae explain te ye in words… but when I heard ye were havin' one, suddenly, everrathin' changed." She smiled softly, then pulled back to grasp his hands in hers.

"Come on, then. I want ye te meet yer son," she told him. His son? It was a boy… The butterflies crept back into his stomach, but he knew that with Brèagha by his side, everything was going to be all right. He nodded subtly, then followed her to meet their beautiful, perfect son.

They decided to call him Donald James Fraser Mackenzie, named after both of their fathers.