A/N: T for adult themes and content
Chapter 5:
The next morn, Jamie found Ellie helping Jenny in the kitchen.
"Can ye spare time fer me?"
Jenny looked at her brother who held Ellie's shawl in his hands and nodded her consent. "Go on with ye two. I can finish up here."
Eleanor wiped her hands on her apron and then careful took it off. She said her goodbyes to Jenny and then stepped out with Jamie into the yard.
"Here, there's a wee nip to the air," Jamie said, handing her shawl to her. Ellie shook it out and then wrapped it around her.
"Thanks," she said. She looked up at the sky. "It looks like rain again."
He nodded. "It is Scotland. The weather is verra dreary at times."
She laughed, "I noticed. So, what's going on?"
"I want to show ye the land."
"I'd like that," Ellie said. "I haven't been past the house and the yard since arriving. I'm afraid to venture off. I'm hopeless with directions."
"Aye, then that be best if ye only go with myself or Murtagh or Fergus. Maybe Young Ian. We canna have ye gettin lost."
Jamie showed Eleanor the lands that he was so familiar with and loved so much. He pointed out his favorite spots as a boy. He answered Eleanor's questions about the tenets and the farms and how everything worked together.
They found a spot to rest and Eleanor turned to him, "Why does Ian and Jenny run the farm if it is technically Fraser land?"
"Well," Jamie rubbed his hands against his pants, "it's not mine."
She frowned, "But you are first born. Isn't that the way things work?"
"Normally so, but..." Jamie paused, "well, ye see, Claire ken things of the future and on the Eve of the battle of Culloden, before I sent her back through the stones, I signed the deed over to Young Jamie. Otherwise, the English would have taken the farm..." he looked in her eyes, "considering I was a traitor and all. I dinna think I would have survived, but I did..." he paused again. "Young Ian now that he is old enough does the day to day runnin of things, but now that I am back, I help as well. But I am not the laird, not anymore, but those things dinnae carry much weight since the English got their way."
"You didn't tell me that you were in the Battle of Culloden," Eleanor pulled her shawl closer.
"Aye, I was. I'm a traitor, ye ken."
"Well," Eleanor titled her head. "Depends on your perspective."
"The only perspective that has much matter is the one that won," Jamie said, "our people were slaughtered."
Eleanor chewed on her thumb, contemplating his words. "How did you survive the battle, Jamie?"
"I dinna ken the actual battle. I dinnae remember much of it," Jamie's look was far off, "But after as they were killin all the men who still lived...lads younger than Young Jamie, barely old enough to leave their homes..."
"They killed them?" Eleanor's voice held her horror and drew Jamie back to the present.
He turned to her and met her eyes. "Aye, shot them." he said, evenly.
"Why would they kill men if the battle was over?" Ellie asked. "Shouldn't they take them prisoner?"
"Ach, they had to send the message that the rebellion was over and done with," Jamie said. "They did alot in the days and years that followed to show their force of their hand. Now they pretty much leave us be, but ye can still see some units patrolling around from time to time."
"But..." Eleanor swallowed hard, a feeling of dread and sorrow deep in the pit of her stomach. She was imagining Jamie awaiting his death sentence, hearing the shots that killed his friends. Her heart tore in empathy. She couldn't imagine such brutality.
"Ye look so perturbed," Jamie said, reaching out for her arm, to touch it briefly. "It was a long time ago, lass. Dinnae fash over things that ye canna change."
"Not so long ago," she fiddled with the end of her braid, "So how did you survive?"
"through debt of honor fulfilled by Lord John's brother though at the time I wasna verra thankful for it."
"Lord John," Eleanor thought for a moment, "the man who raises your son?"
"Aye," Jamie nodded, "Our histories are quite entwined." He studied her carefully. "Prison isna verra pleasant either lass."
She eyed him, "Do you have first hand knowledge of that?"
"Aye."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"Well," Ellie let out her breath, "The land is beautiful, Jamie. I can tell you love it."
"Aye, it is home. I never thought I would see it again." He stood and bent down to reach for her arm, gently helping her to her feet. "Come, lass," he said, quietly, "we mustn't idle the day away."
They walked back in silence.
Ellie found that the next few days took on a rhythm to it. She would help Jenny with household tasks. She was eager to learn how things worked in this century and Jenny knowing that her new sister did not ken their ways, was patient to become the teacher. Jamie took time from his work to seek out Eleanor and continue her education with acquainting her to the workings of Lallybroch and the ways of the eighteenth century. At night, they would sit with Jenny, Ian and the children as well as Murtagh and Fergus and laugh and tell stories and play games by the fire.
But often Jamie would catch her staring off, a far off look on her face and he would know that she was in her century, in memories of her children. He would catch her eye then and smile at her, a wordless nod of understanding and empathy.
It was one night three nights later that Jamie was kept up by the constant shifting of his wife, who finally sat up. She got out of bed and went to stand by the window, looking out at the moon, lost in her thoughts.
She could hear Jamie's movement as the bed creaked under his shifting and the footsteps as he came behind her.
He wrapped a blanket around her. He hesitated but then decisively put his arms around her, pulling her back against him. She stiffened for a moment but then relaxed and dropped her head to rest it against his chest. She was so weary tonight, heavy under the weight of her emotions of missing her children. Even thought it had only been a few days, Jamie's presence was such a life line for her at times, especially when she was unsure of herself. He was helping her forge a life and she was grateful. Still at times, he was quite the enigma and she knew that she had only seen certain facets of his personality.
"ye cannae sleep?"
"No," she sniffed hard. "i was just saying a prayer. I did not know what else to do to calm myself."
"What are ye frettin about, lass?" his breath was hot on her head.
"The children. Bedtimes were always the epitome of insanity," Eleanor said, her voice cracking. "Neither went to sleep without monumental fights. We finally gave up and allowed Harry to fall asleep in our bed. Charlotte was a tad bit more easy to manage, maybe because she was younger and we could close her in her room."
Jamie gave a chuckle. "They sound so surly, Ellie."
She sniffed, "I doubt they would have survived in this century...spare the rod and spoil the child and all that."
"Aye," Jamie tightened his grip on her. "Did Harry fall asleep with ye?"
"Yes," Eleanor responded. "He would eventually settle down from tossing and turning and climbing on and off me and finally allow sleep to overtake him. But he always was like that, even as a baby. He would fall asleep right against me. I could never get anything done because I was always holding him. And then Charlotte came along and she was so fiery. She knew her mind from day one. What will they do at night without me?"
"Children have a way of adapting, Eleanor. Dinnae fash, lass. They'll miss their mama for the rest of their lives, but they will adapt."
Her heart twisted, "I go from hoping that he does remarry and provide a mother to them to wanting to rip my hair out at the very thought of it."
"Aye, I feel the same when I think of Claire's husband raisin my bairn. I'm grateful but i wanna rip him from limb to limb at the same time."
She sighed. "You understand, don't you?"
"Aye, lass, I ken yer feelings well. And I ken what it is like to lose sleep over the very thoughts. But just like yer bairns will adapt, so will ye."
She turned in his arms to look at him, his face illuminated by the bright moon. "How do you know?"
"Because I did."
"Did you?" Ellie shifted out of his arms. "Because last I checked, you were watching the stones for Claire during certain times of the year..."
"Only once a year," Jamie defended, "But I did adapt, I woke up every mornin, did what I must. I survived losin her. it dinnae mean that ye forget or that the longin goes away. I'm doin what I must as well."
Eleanor closed her eyes, "I'm sorry, Jamie. I spoke out of turn. It was thoughtless."
"Think no more of it, lassie."
"I just feel so much despair tonight, I do not quite know how to settle myself."
"Well, then," Jamie reached out to touch the side of her face, lightly rubbing it with his fingers, "tell me more aboot yer bairns, Eleanor."
She allowed him to lead her back to the bed, sitting next to him and they talked for hours, Eleanor soaking in the memories of her babies, shedding tears for the sweet memories she had and the time she will not have with them. Jamie in turn told her more of his and Claire's story, the experience cathartic for him as well. And when the day broke, they were comfortably asleep, Eleanor nestled next to Jamie.
Eleanor approached Jamie, her hand over her forehead shielding herself from the sun that was shining brightly, the cloudy weather breaking for the day.
"Want a break to eat?" Eleanor asked, "Jenny sent me with food and water. Told me to feed you."
Jamie swung a pitchful of hay onto a pile and then put it down. "Aye, that would be fine, lass. It's hot, let's find a cool place to rest."
He reached for the basket, carrying it for her, leading her a ways into the woods and by a steam.
"Oh, it does feel much better here," Ellie fanned herself with her hands, "To think it was so cool only a day ago."
"Aye, where is yer hat, Eleanor? Yer skin will get red in this sun. Yer face is already pink just from yer walk out to the fields."
She smiled, sheepishly, "I just forgot to grab it. I'm not used to hats. I never wear them."
"What did ye do then if ye dinnae wear hats?" he asked as she opened the picnic basket and began to hand him bread and cheese.
"Well," Ellie leaned against a tree with Jamie, stretching out her legs, "You put on suntan lotion and it protects your skin from the sun, especially when you go to the beach..." she paused, "visiting the ocean."
"Did ye visit the ocean alot?"
"Yes, when I was little especially. We would go for a week, rent a house and go down every day."
"Every day for a week?" Jamie asked. "What would ye do?"
"Well," Ellie took a bite of cheese, "when we were little ones, we would play in the sand and water. When I was older, I would lay out on a towel and read and try to get my skin tan."
Jamie's mouth opened, aghast, "But why would ye do that to yerself?"
"That's just what we do," Ellie shrugged. "My pale skin wasn't very fashionable, though I wasn't very successful in changing that. I burn with sunscreen even. I wouldn't be surprised if I get sunburn today, and this is alot more clothes that I would normally wear, especially at the beach."
"What do ye wear there?" Jamie asked, curiously, tearing off a piece of bread with his teeth.
"Well, after the babies, I would wear one piece swim suits, which have special material to wear in the water. It covered my torso, but everything else was pretty much uncovered. It's really hot in the summertime. All these clothes are really unpractical, especially in the States in the South."
"Ye mean ye would lie there half naked?" Jamie asked, frowning. "And yer parents and yer husband would let ye be so brazen?" he looked perturbed at the thought.
"Yes," Ellie laughed. "Trust me, i was way more modest than a lot of people, though when i was younger, a teenager and in college, I would wear bikinis, which just covered," Ellie gestured with her hands, "this and this. My stomach and back would burn awful even with the sunscreen. It's actually bad for your skin. You can get sick years later from it."
"It dinnae seem like yer time is verra sensible, young ladies bein so wanton. That's just askin for trouble."
"Jamie," Eleanor looked at him, seriously, "Do you think I am wanton? Really?" she gave him a look.
"Ach, no," Jamie laughed, poking at her, "I canna say that I do. But Eleanor, it is awfully bold, ye layin out there fer the whole world to see."
"Not really," Eleanor said, "When it is the norm, it isn't bold at all. When the kids came along, things changed though. I wasn't as confident and anyway, it was too much of an ordeal with the little ones to vacation that much. And the ocean made me nervous. The kids were much too impulsive, but when they were older, we planned on going back."
"I see," Jamie reached for more bread, "Speaking of that..."
"Of what?" Ellie asked, handing him so water.
"Well, not speakin of that, but I dinnae ken how to approach it with ye..."
Eleanor took a breath, "You might as just as well come out and say it, Jamie."
"Tonight, I want us to..."
"Okay," Eleanor interrupted, quickly.
Jamie looked at her quizzically, "What does that mean, lass?"
"Yes. I'm agreeing with you. I'm sorry. I won't let my modern expressions slip in front of the others."
"Try not to. Ye do that alot with me, but with the others..." Jamie's voice held a warning. "I dinnae blame ye, lass. It must be hard to change yer manner of speakin."
"And you just made me nervous," Eleanor defended, "You could have just talked to me about it tonight."
Jamie raised his eyebrows, "I thought a warnin would be nice, so ye could prepare yerself."
"Well, now I can just worry about it for the rest of the day..."
"Maybe ye shouldn't fret about it, lass."
"That's easier said than done," Eleanor bit her lip.
Jamie glanced at her and then turned towards her, "Eleanor, lass, I willna hurt ye," he reached for her hand, holding it between his own.
Her voice cracked, "I know."
"Do ye?" Jamie said, his voice held an implication. "Am I not tryin to show ye that I can be sensible to yer feelings even if I was a hard heided fool to start?"
"You are," Ellie said, "And I'm grateful for you, Jamie, truly. I'm just nervous. I would be nervous with anybody not Will."
"Aye," Jamie nodded his understanding. "And I ken things are different here."
"That's true," Eleanor said. "And your very different. But I do trust you, Jamie. I'm just nervous and it's just the way I am going to feel."
"But ye aren't scared?"
"No, I'm scared senseless," She gave him a wry look, "but not of you."
"Verra good. I cannae abide my wife bein scared of my touch." He squeezed her hand.
Eleanor studied him for a moment and then said, "Can I just...?" She paused and then sat to her knees and wrapped her arms around Jamie, giving him a long hug. She buried her head in his shoulder, smelling the tang of the farm and his sweat on him. He returned the gesture, his arms around her waist, she feeling his strength of his embrace.
"Ye need a wee bit of coddlin now and then, do ye no?"
She laughed and pulled back, "My love language is touch."
"What the hell does that mean?" Jamie asked, grinning at her.
"Well," Ellie plopped back down. "It based on a book. Basically, it is how people feel affection and love is different based on your personality. Some people feel appreciated and loved by words of affirmation. Others by receiving gifts...Others like it by spending time with each other. I don't remember the fifth one, but you get my meaning. I like hugs."
"Ah, then ye should really like tonight," he grinned at her.
She poked at him, "That type of touch is not what I am talking about, James Alexander..." she paused.
"Malcom Mackenzie Fraser" he supplied, "if ye are tryin to call me by all my given names."
"It's alot to keep track of," she shook her head, mock wearingly. "But regardless, what's your love language, James Alexander..." she paused, "Malcom Mackenzie Fraser?"
He gave her a quick kiss on the head, "I dinnae ken all this rubbish, Eleanor, but ye do amuse me at times."
"The author has made tons of money on all this rubbish, Jamie. If only I could have thought of it first..." she shook her head, teasingly.
"Well, it would do ye no good now, would it?"
She laughed, "Point well taken."
"I need to get back to it lass." he jumped up and then offered his hand, helping her up.
"Thank you."
"Aye, yer welcome. Thank ye for helpin me break the day."
"It was Jenny's idea."
"Aye, but ye went along with it," Jamie leaned down, whispering it in her ear, conspiratorially. "So, I thank ye lass."
"Your welcome, then."
Ellie was undeniably nervous that night by the fire. The day was warm but the cold came in at night, the swing in temperature surprising to her. Jenny sensed that her sister in law was of sorts, and she tried to steer the topics of her unruly clan. They chatted and Murtagh told stories of Leoch and of Ellen Fraser.
Jamie's hand had moved to Eleanor's knee during the story, his hand heavy on her, but comforting. He caught her eye and she smiled wearily. He winked at her in response. And when the kids retired for the evening, with their hugs and goodnight kisses, Jamie stood, offering his hand to his wife.
"I think we will retire as well tonight. I'm weary from the day at the fields." He stretched and Eleanor tried not to react, but everyone understood his meaning quite well.
Murtagh titled his head, knowingly. "I can see that," he rubbed his beard, "Good night to ye, Ellie."
"Goodnight, Murtagh. Thank you again for the story. I love learning all about Jamie's family."
"Aye, I thought ye might appreciate the history, lassie."
"I do."
"And of course, I always love hearin stories of mama," Jenny rose and went to give Eleanor a hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Goodnight, Ellie. Sleep well." She turned to Jamie and gave him a kiss on the cheek, "And to you, brother. Goodnight."
Jamie's hand was tight in hers as their made their way to the door, where Ian was standing.
"Eleanor. Jamie." Ian stood, giving Jamie an affectionate pat. "Pleasant dreams."
Jamie lead her out of the study and up the stairs, only dropping her hand when they reached the door.
"That was totally obvious, Jamie."
"Aye, but not wholly unexpected," he said, pushing open the door to their room. "We are newly marrit."
She sat down into the arm chair by the fire, trying to calm her feelings. She busied herself by taking off her shoes and stockings before flopping back in the chair.
Jamie was busy undressing himself, his boots and socks.
"Maybe I need a drink," Ellie glanced up at the ceiling. "Maybe whiskey?"
"Ach, no," Jamie said, shaking a censuring finger in her direction, catching her gaze again. "Ye canna hold yer whisky, lass. I want ye fully in control of yer senses, wife. And ye already had two glasses of wine at supper."
"Stop keeping track, I'm an adult and perfectly capable of deciding how much wine I can have," she rolled her eyes at him, before rising and trying to side swipe his large presence in their room to reach the whisky.
He dove for her and grabbed her by the waist, them falling down on the bed, his weight on her for a moment, before rolling them to their sides. "Ye are lucky that I took ye on, my wee besom."
"What's that?"
"well, that means," Jamie kissed up her arm and then whispered in her ear, "your a difficult woman."
"Gee, thanks," she poked at his solid form, but then giggled. "So flattering." She laughed more. "But maybe not inaccurate at times."
He laughed with her and then the he sobered quickly, sitting up. "We should get ready for bed."
"Jamie," Ellie sat up as well. "What is it?" she asked, softly, her hand touching his arm, lightly. "What can I do?"
He turned to face her. "I never thought that I would be able to laugh again in bed with a woman."
She let out her breath and then leaned closer to him to rest her forehead against his, "Do you feel bad about it?" she murmured.
"I should," Jamie said, his arms encircling her waist, "but I canna help but feel grateful, lass."
She struggled under the weight of her swirling emotions. This position she had been put in felt impossible, but with Jamie, even after just mere days, she was learning it was possible to live in this time, to survive, to thrive. She missed Will and her babies desperately, but yet, she was grateful. Grateful that Jamie found her at the stones. Grateful that Jamie took her. It was all wrong, and yet it was right at the same time. Reason eluded her. She couldn't reconcile it, yet she was grateful all the same.
"Jamie?" her voice shook.
"Aye?" his forehead was still against hers, each of them feeling the breaths of the other.
She swallowed the lump down in her throat, "Will you help me undress? This corset is sucking the life out of me right now."
He pulled back from her and then gave her a grin. "Aye. Of course. We canna have that, lass."
He stood and then gestured for her to stand in front of him. "Turn around."
She turned around and he undid the buttons of her dress, it slipping down before untying her corset, unthreading it, slowly and deliberately.
The shift billowed out in release of what confined it and Eleanor rubbed her ribs. Jamie's hand rested on her hips for a moment, before turning her around to face him. Eleanor's eyes were suddenly on the floor.
He took a step even closer to her. He let go of her waist and his fingers reached to squeeze her shoulder, before going up her neck and resting on her cheek, rubbing it, before moving to grip her chin, tugging it gently up. Eleanor met his eyes.
She was nervous, yet he was steady and calm. Before she could think anymore on it he leaned over and kissed where his hands had first moved, her shoulder, up her neck, to her cheek, then her chin, before moving to claim her lips. At first, it was soft and gentle but increasingly became deeper, more forceful. The kiss broke, Eleanor catching her breath.
"Will ye no kiss me back?" His eyes were searching her own, seeking understanding. He reached for her hand, squeezing it.
She stood there for what seemed like for the longest time, indecisive, not sure of what to say. He was right. She hadn't kissed him back. She was willing for him to do this, but for her to be an active participant, that was hard for her to reconcile, considering she still felt married to Will. Jamie waited, patiently, his hand still in hers, not willing to push her until she was ready to speak, but not backing down as well. She would give him an answer. Eleanor sensing this, finally broke the silence...with the truth.
"I'm scared, Jamie," she confessed.
"I told ye that ye needn't be afraid of me."
"It's not that," Eleanor bit her lip. "I'm not afraid of you. I told you earlier."
"Then what?"
"What if I like it?" the words rushed out.
Jamie tugged at her hand, pulling her towards him and then wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her against his side. "Then we should count ourselves verra lucky indeed."
"We are married to other people."
"We are marrit to each other, lass," Jamie rubbed her back through the fabric of her shift. "Claire and Will are in their time. They aren't even born yet. But ye and I. We are here."
She swallowed hard and took another deep breath. "Do you mind if I take my hair down? It will only take a minute."
It was a plea for space to contemplate his words and Jamie even in his 18th century perspective was willing to honor...for a moment.
"Of course not," Jamie said. "Go ahead. I'll finish getting ready for bed as well."
Eleanor went over to the small table at the side of the room that held her brush and the box the held the pins to her hair. She began to undo it, carefully, mindful of the what was going on at the other side of the room as Jamie unbuttoned and shrugged of his breeks. He came up behind her.
"Let me see yer brush," he said, his voice low. She handed him the brush and he began to comb through her hair, his touch gentle.
He noticed the goose flesh on her arms, "Are ye cold, lass?"
She reached up to stop his hand and then turned to face him. "Yes."
He swallowed hard. "Do ye want me to help ye with that?"
She bit her lip, "Yes. No. Yes. No." she gave him a weary grin, "maybe."
He tossed her brush back on the table. "That's good enough for me." he put his hand behind her head and pulled her towards him, kissing her soundly. And this time she kissed him back.
He pulled back, a question in his eyes.
"I'm fine," she said. "Kiss me again, Mr. Fraser."
They kissed a while before Jamie gently eased her back onto the bed. He brushed her hair out her face and then rubbed her cheek with his fist. His hand moved down her neck and fingered the tie of her shift. He slowly and deliberately untied the front tie. His hand slipped underneath her shift.
He looked at her briefly, wanting to know she was still comfortable with him.
"Go ahead," she whispered. He began to caress and kiss her gently, exploring everywhere, reveling in acquainting himself with her body. After a while, his hand moved down her sides and before she could help it, she started to wiggle and laugh.
Jamie's head rose from his spot at her breast His smile was wide. "Ah, are ye a wee bit ticklish?" Jamie looked mischievous. "Where else are ye?"
"Jamie," she giggled. "What are you doing?"
"How about here?" Jamie asked, rubbing her leg. He began to move to different spots, testing them out. "Or here... Or here." His eyes gleamed as his hand slid up her shift, "or maybe here."
"Oh, God, Jamie..." her voice grew hoarse.
"Maybe not there, but ye like it no?" Jamie's mouth claimed her again, before she could answer him because he already knew the answer.
"Jamie, are you alright?" Ellie asked, her voice conveying her worry.
When he finished, he had very gently eased his weight off of her. Ellie reached up to touch a stray curl as he buried his face in her chest, his shirt rubbing against the fabric of her shift which had pooled around her stomach. He hadn't attempted to take off her shift nor did he take off his shirt, instead shifting the garments out of the way. She had assumed it was for her own modesty, but now his reaction concerned her. He seemed upset. Did she do something wrong?
"Aye. I had forgotten."
"What did you forget, Jamie?" Eleanor continued to rub her hands through his curls.
"The wonder of it all...this between a man and a women" he nuzzled further into her chest."It's been...well, before ye and I last week...since Willie's mother and that was only the one time," He rolled to his side and then pulled her against him, her back to him. "Thank you, lass."
"Of course," Ellie's voice was hoarse. "I know it wasn't...that I'm not..."
"Shh," Jamie hushed her. "I like ye just fine, Eleanor." He paused, "It wasn't too disagreeable for ye, was it now, lass?"
"No," Eleanor bit her lip, "Not at all." She turned in his arms. "Can you hold me though?"
"Aye, I'd like that. But hush now, it's time for sleep. Dawn will come soon enough. There is more work to be done." He sat up and extinguished the flame before settling down and pulling her close to him.
"Goodnight then, Jamie."
"Goodnight, Eleanor."
A/N: Hope you all are enjoying it. :) Up next: Eleanor's 21st century perspective collides with reality of the 18th century, causing a wee bit of trouble