Hi guys! I recently finished watching Outlander and now I'm a lil obsessed so I felt inspired to write a fanfic.
The story begins during Season 4, after Roger goes through the stones as is trying to find Bree.
It focuses on an original character of mine, Freya Dawson. When we first meet Freya she is travelling with Bonnet, whether she stays with him, you'll have to wait and see.

Hope you enjoy

1. The Stranger

Freya Dawson sat alone on the busy dock, watching the generic hustle and bustle of dock side life. A mix of travellers, merchants and pirates occupied the small coastal town of Scotland. Each one of them on their own individual missions. The crew and herself had arrived in the port only a few days ago but even that seemed like too long to Freya. While docked here, the crew sold and traded and simply enjoyed their time on dry land. They frequented the taverns and brothels more than their own beds. It didn't take Freya long to tire of the men's drinking and banter. A bench outside of the tavern seemed a lot more appropriate for her.

The cold Scottish wind blew like ice from the sea, causing Freya to shiver. She wrapped her thick leather trench coat around her in an attempt to keep herself warm. It was fair to say, she didn't like it here. Out of all the ports they frequented, the one in Scotland was always the worse, she didn't appreciate the cold. Her mind constantly drifted back to the Caribbean heat, that's where she longed to be.

"Excuse me, miss?" a voice came from in front of her, she removed her eyes from the busy people of the port to look at the man who stood before her. A tall, dark haired man, who looked somewhat lost.

"Can I help you?" she asked him, cocking an eyebrow. Freya had made more than her fair share of enemies in the past couple of years and every stranger that approached her was seen as a potential threat. Her eyes scanned over every inch of the man. He looked ordinary enough. Well-groomed and his clothes were remarkably presentable. Despite his everyday appearance there was something unusual about him though, she just couldn't pinpoint what.

"Er yes, I'm looking for the captain of the 'Gloriana'." He gestured to the large ship that was currently docked in the port. Freya glanced towards the ship with her dark brown eyes before looking back at the lost man.

"Mr Bonnet? He's inside," she told him, waving in the general direction of the tavern she sat outside of. Whether she told the stranger the truth, she wasn't sure. She had last seen the Captain in the tavern no more than an hour ago, gambling and drinking with the rest of the crew. A crew and a Captain that she had the unfortunate pleasure of travelling with for the last two years. It had never been Freya's plan to turn to a life of piracy but after Mr Bonnet had saved her life, she had no real choice. Her life was indebted to the pirate and both herself and the Captain took their debts seriously.

The stranger smiled and nodded once in thanks before entering the building. The tavern was dark, dimly lit and crowded. Men and prostitutes occupied each and every space, making it extremely difficult for the man to navigate his way through.

"Is Mr Bonnet here?" the man asked a bartender, an aged man with a head of hair as white as snow. He nodded once and pointed in Bonnet's direction. He sat in amongst sailors, all with tankards in their hands. None of the men seemed to acknowledge the stranger as he approached them.

"Excuse me. Are you the captain of the 'Gloriana'?" the stranger asked Bonnet. The Captain looked away from his fellow sailors and to the man who stood before him, his green eyes instantly narrowing with suspicion.

"Indeed I am," he responded, his tone cold and unsure.

"I'm seeking passage to the Carolinas," the stranger explained to the Captain. Bonnet nodded once, looking the man over. He didn't appear to be a sailor; he was far too well kept for that profession. Perhaps he was a lawyer or a banker but nether the less, he had no more room on board for passengers.

"There's no luck here. I do intend to sail to Wilmington on my way to Philadelphia, but I'm taking no one else aboard," Bonnet explained to the stranger, picking his pistol up from the tavern table and sliding it into the leather holster around his waist. The strangers eyes watched the pistol intensely, as if he didn't trust it. Or maybe, he just didn't trust the man it belonged to. Bonnet paid no mind to the man's distrust, picking his well used tricorne hat up and placing it upon his head. He then rose to his feet, indicating to the rest of the tavern that his crew and himself were now leaving.

"Sir… Captain, please. I'd do anything," the man begged, following Bonnet and his men out of the tavern, "My lass is there, and I need to find her."

"And you can't find yourself one here?" Bonnet chuckled, stopping outside of the tavern to continue his conversation with the desperate stranger. The rest of the sailors continued there way down the dock and towards vast ship that was anchored there.

"As I've said… takin' no one else aboard," Bonnet reiterated, before turning to the woman the stranger had encountered earlier, Freya. She sat perfectly still, listening to the conversation between the two men.

"Miss Dawson, are you coming? Or are you just going continue to sit there looking pretty?" Bonnet asked her, holding his hand out towards the young woman. She turned to look at both the men, her long, dark brown hair blowing softly in the breeze. A small smile graced her lips as she took the Captain's hand, rising to her feet. Both men who stood before her were considerably taller than her, but she did not look intimidated in the slightest.

"Would you take me on as a member of your crew?" the stranger asked. Clearly, he was not one for giving up easily. Bonnet let go of the woman's hand and took hold of the stranger's, inspecting them carefully before shaking his head.

"Your hands are better suited to writing letters than sailing," Bonnet finally said, before taking his leave from the conversation. Walking towards his ship with Freya at his side he heard the stranger shout once more.

"Captain! Where do you want this?"

The couple stopped and looked over their shoulders to see the man holding a barrel. Bonnet could not help but chuckle at the man's determination and will. He could see clear as day that the stranger was desperate to reach the Carolinas and would do whatever necessary to get there. The Captain turned to face the stranger, taking a stride towards him.

"You believe in luck?" Bonnet asked, pulling a dull looking coin from his pocket and holding it up to the light so the stranger could see, "Heads, you come. Tails, you stay."

The Captain tossed the coin in the air, catching it effortlessly before uncovering which side it had landed on. A smirk appeared across his face as he revealed it had landed on heads.

"What's your name?" Bonnet asked the man.

"Roger MacKenzie," the stranger finally introduced himself.

"Shillings a month, Mr MacKenzie. You're free to leave the ship when it's in port, and you'll be paid once the cargo's unloaded. Sailors'll show you where to go," the Captain explained.

Roger nodded and tried to hide the smile that kept trying to fight its way out. He wanted to get aboard the ship as quickly as possible, before Bonnet had any chance to change his mind.

"And Mackenzie? There's four ports before Wilmington. I hope she's worth it," Bonnet said, watching as the man hurried to find the rest of his crew mates. He was definitely not his usual kind of sailor he would employ as part of his crew but the man looked to be strong and in good health.

"Strange man," Freya commented on the situation as she walked up the gangway and onto the ship, Bonnet followed closely behind her. The ship was full of people, all those seeking passage to the New World were now onboard and ready to go. Freya looked around the deck, watching as passengers were directed below deck and the crew began getting the ship ready to set sail.

"Apparently he has a lass there," Bonnet informed Freya as he made his way the wheel at the stern of his ship. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the comment. She felt a twinge of jealousy flow through her, no man had ever loved her like that. To travel across an ocean for a woman, that was a special man indeed.

"It's always love that drives a man. Or greed, or revenge," Freya commented, causing Bonnet to stop before he reached his destination. He turned to look at the young woman behind him, secretly taking in her extraordinary beauty.

"Well what is it for me then?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Greed, obviously," Freya smirked, taking a step towards the Captain, her arms snaking around his neck. A dark chuckle escaped his throat as he wrapped an arm around her slender waist, pulling her towards him roughly. No matter where they were, her body always felt so warm and inviting to the pirate and in this instance, it was no different.

"You're not wrong," he whispered in her ear before biting her earlobe playfully.

"I know you too well," Freya replied, pressing her lips to his cheek before pulling back from his embrace. The Captain looked her over, his green eyes full of lust and passion.

"Miss Dawson, make yourself scarce, you are quite the distraction," the Captain ordered, his eyes still wandering slowly down the woman's body.

"Of course," she replied, smiling sweetly at Bonnet before turning away from him, her smile disappearing in an instance. Despite spending two years in the company of the notorious pirate, he still scared Freya. She had seen what he was capable of on too many occasions. His mood would turn in an instance and his actions were truly unpredictable. Freya had learned that alcohol and sex was a sure way to keep the man happy and her usefulness kept her alive. Bonnet had never considered the young lady to have been helpful when he made the decision to save her life but over the two years, he had come to realise that she was a great aid to him. No body ever saw a young, beautiful woman as a threat.

She made her way through the crowds of people aboard the ship, taking a mental note of each face she saw. There were loan travellers, couples and even families on board the Gloriana. All of them hoping for a slice of the New World. For Freya, the New World seemed no different to the old, still as hateful and corrupt.

As she made her mental audit of the men and women aboard, her dark eyes spotted the newest member of the crew, Roger MacKenzie. Freya couldn't lie, she was curious about him. He seemed sweet and honest, and as much as Freya hated to admit it, she was a sucker for a happy ending. Hopefully he would find his lady when got to the Carolinas.

"So the lost soul has a name, Mr MacKenzie?" she said as she approached the man. His head quickly turned to look at the Freya, seemingly shocked that someone was speaking to him. The woman was petite and slender with dark hair that cascaded down to her hips. Her skin was pale and her dark eyes contrasted against it.

"Aye. And you are Miss Dawson, right?" he asked, recalling what Bonnet had called her as they had left the tavern. She nodded once in response to the question.

"Freya Dawson," she introduced herself. Her voice was soft and gentle, but as she spoke he could not recognise her accent.

"Are you the Captains wife?" he asked. His question instantly caused her to laugh.

"Oh goodness no," she shook her head, her chocolate curls falling in front of her face, "we just travel together, it's a… arrangement."

Roger blinked three times and Freya could see the confusion that flooded his green eyes. She could not help but let a small giggle escape her lips.

"My life is indebted to the Captain. He saved me once," she explained. Roger nodded, understanding what she meant now. He wanted to speak to her more, but he was conscious of his new crewmates working hard around him. Making a good impression with the Captain was important.

"I best get back to work, I'll see you around, Miss Dawson."

"Take care Mr MacKenzie," she responded before quickly adding, "And some advice for you, keep your head down and work hard. Just because I'm close to the Captain doesn't mean I think he's a good man."

"Noted," Roger replied quietly as he watched the brunette depart from his company. Effortlessly weaving through the busy crew on the deck as she made her way to the back of the ship where the Captain's Quarters were housed.

The quarters were rather grand when compared with the rest of the aged ship. The back wall was almost entirely made up of glass windows, allowing for panoramic views of the ocean. Although, as the ship was currently docked in a Scottish port, Freya was offered panoramic views of the Highlands instead. In the centre of the room was a mahogany desk. Books, maps and paper covered it, looking completely disorganised. Behind the desk sat an old, leather armchair that Freya settled herself in.

Picking up one of the many books from the table in front of her she flicked through the pages, looking at the words. Freya wished she could understand what the squiggles said, she had never been taught to read. There were odd few words she did know, such as her own name but her knowledge did not extend much further than that. Despite her setback with the book she happily settled for it, examining the pictures on the pages instead as the ship began to set sail.

Thanks for reading!