[ His first night in the mansion, Jamie can't sleep. He tries and does for a bit, falling asleep with Claire. But at not quite two in the morning he's awake and sitting on the edge of their bed, thinking, rubbing at the hand Claire once put back together with tears and sweat.
Eventually, he stands, pulls on his trousers and shirt, and lets quiet footsteps take him to Brianna's room. He listens for a moment at the door before slowly opening it. There's a candle burning on her nightstand so that he can see her face in the glow of the light. He still can't believe it, his child right here with him. Flesh and blood of his and Claire's that he can hold and protect.
Try to protect.
It guts him to know that his daughter was attacked by the same man who terrorized his wife, that he could protect neither of them. To know that his daughter knows the same pain Jamie himself felt at the hands of Randall - to know Fergus knows it, too. Some moments it's too hard to breathe as his mind processes it. Both of his children, attacked. Hurt in a way Jamie knows takes a long path to recover from.
As he watches Brianna now and sees her smile in her sleep it makes him mad with joy; Claire described it, but to see it is a wholly different thing. It's a sweet thing and Jamie smiles as he takes her in, his heart aching with pride and joy. He'd always imagined her so wee, still a bairn he would be able to cradle in his arms. Logically he knew that wasn't possible, he'd always known she grew, he'd seen the photos. But to see her now. Christ, it's different. It's completely different.
Slowly, quietly, he makes his way to her bedside and kneels, holding his hands together after crossing himself. He whispers the practiced words of the Hail Mary in Gaelic. ]
Failte dhut, a Mhoire, tha thu lan de na grasan tha an Tighearna maille riut is beannaichte thu am measg nam mna, agus is beannaichtc toradh do bhronn, Iosa. A Naomh Mhoire, a Mhathair Dhe, guidh' air ar sonne na peacaich a nis agus aig uair ar bais. Amen.
[ He prays for the Blessed Virgin to watch over his daughter even here in a place his mind never would have been able to fathom on its own. Hesitantly, because he doesn't want to wake her, Jamie takes Brianna's hand and kisses the back of it before placing it back down and standing. Bending, he kisses her forehead now just lightly, then leaves her room, going back to Claire. Undressing, he says the same prayer over his wife once he's in bed and holding her again.
not here | for when they're on olympia, finally.
Eventually, he stands, pulls on his trousers and shirt, and lets quiet footsteps take him to Brianna's room. He listens for a moment at the door before slowly opening it. There's a candle burning on her nightstand so that he can see her face in the glow of the light. He still can't believe it, his child right here with him. Flesh and blood of his and Claire's that he can hold and protect.
Try to protect.
It guts him to know that his daughter was attacked by the same man who terrorized his wife, that he could protect neither of them. To know that his daughter knows the same pain Jamie himself felt at the hands of Randall - to know Fergus knows it, too. Some moments it's too hard to breathe as his mind processes it. Both of his children, attacked. Hurt in a way Jamie knows takes a long path to recover from.
As he watches Brianna now and sees her smile in her sleep it makes him mad with joy; Claire described it, but to see it is a wholly different thing. It's a sweet thing and Jamie smiles as he takes her in, his heart aching with pride and joy. He'd always imagined her so wee, still a bairn he would be able to cradle in his arms. Logically he knew that wasn't possible, he'd always known she grew, he'd seen the photos. But to see her now. Christ, it's different. It's completely different.
Slowly, quietly, he makes his way to her bedside and kneels, holding his hands together after crossing himself. He whispers the practiced words of the Hail Mary in Gaelic. ]
Failte dhut, a Mhoire,
tha thu lan de na grasan
tha an Tighearna maille riut
is beannaichte thu am measg nam mna,
agus is beannaichtc toradh do bhronn, Iosa.
A Naomh Mhoire, a Mhathair Dhe,
guidh' air ar sonne na peacaich
a nis agus aig uair ar bais. Amen.
[ He prays for the Blessed Virgin to watch over his daughter even here in a place his mind never would have been able to fathom on its own. Hesitantly, because he doesn't want to wake her, Jamie takes Brianna's hand and kisses the back of it before placing it back down and standing. Bending, he kisses her forehead now just lightly, then leaves her room, going back to Claire. Undressing, he says the same prayer over his wife once he's in bed and holding her again.
Only now, does sleep come. ]