It's like a soda but...a little more bubbly. [ Which is mostly said for her mother's clarification because she knows Jamie won't know what a 'soda' is either. ]
It is pretty sweet. I'm almost positive you've never had anything like it before.
[Somehow, despite all the grief in her heart, hearing Jamie say bubbly in that Scots accent of his almost makes her smile.]
Don't worry. We have a fine stock of liquor at home.
[Between mouthfuls of soup, she decides to give them both something to look forward to.]
If you're lucky, Bree might bless you with some pancakes.
[It's usually Claire making them and sharing them with Bree while in bed, their little late night tradition kept from the boys, but Bree and Jamie can begin something of their own. She hopes.]
[ Bree looks at Claire in surprise. That was something between the two of them, but if she's willing to give it over, then they'll find something else. She likes having something that's just them, but her mother isn't wrong - she wants something she can connect with Jamie over. ]
I'm getting pretty good at them. I'm better than mama at making actual round circles, anyway.
[ But for once, he knows what they're talking about. ]
Those were verra popular during Lent, ye ken. No' just during breakfast but easy enough for other meals because they had no meat. 'Twas the only time we had them the whole of the year.
[ Jamie smiles a little, features soft. ]
My mother always said it was the best forty days of the year because of it.
[ This all feels so normal, and for a few minutes, Bree forgets about what happened and she watches the two of them, her parents. She wasn't only trying to find her mother when she went through the stones. She was looking for Jamie, too. ]
There's a lot you can try. Let's see...
[ Bree tries to think. ]
Ice cream. I'll bet you'll be more appreciative of it than some other people I know.
Just Theon. At the time, his teeth were [broken shards] sensitive, and he didn't realize that biting into ice cream is like biting into snow.
[How one grows up in a place called Winterfell and doesn't think to be careful around anything with ice in the name is beyond her, but. Children. Bree could have probably tried a different treat, too.]
I think you'll like it, though. But hopefully we'll be feeding you more than pancakes and ice cream.
If anything is as good as the stews yer mother makes with the game I bring home, then I've no reason to complain.
[ Jamie smiles at Claire, nothing but pride and happiness in his eyes. ]
She's become a verra fine cook. Better than twenty-three year ago. I found myself looking forward to coming home when I kent the pot had been simmerin' for hours.
[It makes her a little sad, hearing him talk about things she can't possibly know because she hasn't lived them, but. A glance to Bree, and she knows she wouldn't want to be anywhere else but right here.]
I did have a child to feed, occasionally, over the past two decades.
[ Bree smiles softly, but under the surface of it, she's just tired. She's eaten about half of her soup and hasn't picked the spoon back up again, tired and wanting to lay down. ]
I remember the casseroles you made. They were always my favorite.
[ He notices of course. He's already picking up on things, and when she seems to be done eating, he glances at Claire to make sure it's all right. He isn't sure yet if what she's eaten is enough to satisfy his wife. ]
I'll have to try whatever a 'casserole' is. Soon, I hope.
[It's all right. She didn't expect Bree to eat much. Setting her own food aside, she leans over to relieve Bree of hers. One more push.]
We'll have casseroles and pancakes galore when we get back. As well as our own tubs.
[For now, it seems they're limited to the communal showers at the end of the hall. Claire reaches out to fuss with Bree's braid, smoothing her fingers over it before beginning to pile it up atop her head. She'll wash her body. The hair can wait.]
Jamie, will you be all right here while we go freshen up?
[He will be, of course, but it's an indication of her intent.]
[ Bree's relieved, wanting so badly to get the feel of Stephen Bonnet off of her somehow and she leans close, letting her mother pin her hair up. Right now she's talked out, just wanting the shower, letting her mother check after Jamie. ]
[There it is. Claire nods to Jamie, and once Bree's hair is all out of the way she stands to fish something for Bree to wear out of the few belongings she packed to bring for a stay in Nadril. Bree has her own things, somewhere, but Claire's sure she won't mind sleeping in her mother's powder blue pajama set. Folding it over her arm, she holds out a hand to help Bree up.]
Let's go, darling. Then you can get some more sleep.
[ When the two of them stand, Jamie looks up, preparing to stand and see them to the door when every part of him goes cold at the sight before him.
His daughter's shift, covered in blood at her backside. It nearly drives him to his knees, bile rising in his throat and he can only stand there, frozen, not wanting to call attention to it, to make Brianna upset, to set her to tears again. He's never experienced this before, this feeling as though he can't quite breathe.
As soon as they leave and he can no longer hear their footfall, his empty soup bowl is hurled at the wall where it shatters.
Everything will be cleaned by the time they return, and the only hint of his tears will be far away in his eyes where only Claire can see. He's quiet, sitting on the edge of the bed stock still, unable to stop thinking about anything other than how horribly his daughter was brutalized, and it's where he'll be when they return. ]
[Aware of the injuries and the blood as she was earlier, she doesn't realize that Jamie might see what is left. Just stains, now, but it's enough, isn't it? She's entirely focused on Bree, on keeping a tight arm around her as she leads her to the communal showers. Separated stalls, blissfully empty at this odd hour, and warm.]
Would you like me to help, or wait out here?
[It's been many, many years since she last bathed Bree, but she's given her fare share of showers and baths to adults, given her career. She can make quick work of it. But she does understand if she'd like the time alone.]
[ Bree manages a little smile but shakes her head. ]
I'll be okay if you wait.
[ With that, she turns on the water and stands under the warm spray for a few moments before reaching for soap. Lathering her hands, she begins to wash her body, simple enough at first. But when she gets to her stomach she keeps scrubbing. A frown crosses her features and she scrubs harder, trying to get the feel of a dirty warm hand off of her. A hand that pressed her back, pushed her up, gripped her tightly.
Her scrubbing turns to scratching, trying and failing to get the memory, the imprint off of her. She doesn't even realize she's making noise, that she's sobbing by now as she tries to scrub at her body with fingers and nails. ]
[There's a bench meant for getting dressed, and Claire sits, setting the pajamas down beside her. Belatedly, she realizes she should have at least taught Jamie the basics of texting. Oh, well. He'll be fine. No need to check on him every minute. Hopefully, he's forcing down some more soup.
Bree's not taking long, no. It's the sudden, unmistakable sound of her sobs that has Claire jumping to her feet and hurrying to the stall to see what's happened.
Too much.
Too much, and not enough, she hears Jamie say, long ago.]
Bree. Brianna, stop, stop. [Seeing what she's doing to herself, Claire makes a grab for her hands, getting herself and her wool dress soaked in the process but too concerned for her daughter to care.]
[ It's a choked out sob, a plea though she doesn't know for what. It came out of nowhere, this overwhelming feeling that she will never be rid of him, that he is in her forever somehow, embedded in the fabric of who she is now.
All that she can do is cling to her mother tightly as she sobs, feeling broken and unable to find the pieces right now to put herself back together again. ]
[Jamie felt Randall long after Wentworth. How many times did he wake up, drenched with sweat? She wasn't there for him, then. Didn't really know how to be. But for Bree, she does, and she holds her with all the strength she can muster.]
We will never, ever let an animal like that near you again. I swear it on my life.
[There wasn't much letting on their part before, though.]
[ Just the fact that her parents are there with her makes her feel safer, like she can believe it. They won't let anything happen to her, and she trusts that.
When she's cried out, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, wetting her lips. ]
I'm done.
[ Her words are flat; she means the shower, she's done in the shower and she just wants to close her eyes at the same time she's afraid to because of what will happen in her dreams. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Bree supplies this information. ]
It's like a soda but...a little more bubbly. [ Which is mostly said for her mother's clarification because she knows Jamie won't know what a 'soda' is either. ]
It is pretty sweet. I'm almost positive you've never had anything like it before.
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The bubbles surprise him and he coughs a little, then looks at the bottle before looking at his wife and daughter. ]
It is bubbly. I dinnae ken why a drink needs to have bubbles.
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Don't worry. We have a fine stock of liquor at home.
[Between mouthfuls of soup, she decides to give them both something to look forward to.]
If you're lucky, Bree might bless you with some pancakes.
[It's usually Claire making them and sharing them with Bree while in bed, their little late night tradition kept from the boys, but Bree and Jamie can begin something of their own. She hopes.]
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I'm getting pretty good at them. I'm better than mama at making actual round circles, anyway.
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[ But for once, he knows what they're talking about. ]
Those were verra popular during Lent, ye ken. No' just during breakfast but easy enough for other meals because they had no meat. 'Twas the only time we had them the whole of the year.
[ Jamie smiles a little, features soft. ]
My mother always said it was the best forty days of the year because of it.
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Just wait until you have ones with chocolate in them.
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There's a lot you can try. Let's see...
[ Bree tries to think. ]
Ice cream. I'll bet you'll be more appreciative of it than some other people I know.
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Seems as though there's a story there. Something I've missed.
[ He wonders if there will be a bit of that, of trying to catch up to his wife and daughter's experiences here without him. ]
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Just Theon. At the time, his teeth were [broken shards] sensitive, and he didn't realize that biting into ice cream is like biting into snow.
[How one grows up in a place called Winterfell and doesn't think to be careful around anything with ice in the name is beyond her, but. Children. Bree could have probably tried a different treat, too.]
I think you'll like it, though. But hopefully we'll be feeding you more than pancakes and ice cream.
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She has her moments with Theon (getting drunk together stands out) but for the most part, they don't speak much. ]
Meats have to be less boring with the different ways they can be cooked here. And so much more variety, too.
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[ Jamie smiles at Claire, nothing but pride and happiness in his eyes. ]
She's become a verra fine cook. Better than twenty-three year ago. I found myself looking forward to coming home when I kent the pot had been simmerin' for hours.
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I did have a child to feed, occasionally, over the past two decades.
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[ Bree smiles softly, but under the surface of it, she's just tired. She's eaten about half of her soup and hasn't picked the spoon back up again, tired and wanting to lay down. ]
I remember the casseroles you made. They were always my favorite.
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I'll have to try whatever a 'casserole' is. Soon, I hope.
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We'll have casseroles and pancakes galore when we get back. As well as our own tubs.
[For now, it seems they're limited to the communal showers at the end of the hall. Claire reaches out to fuss with Bree's braid, smoothing her fingers over it before beginning to pile it up atop her head. She'll wash her body. The hair can wait.]
Jamie, will you be all right here while we go freshen up?
[He will be, of course, but it's an indication of her intent.]
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Aye, Sassenach, I'll be fine.
[ He wants her to go take care of Bree, in whatever way she needs to be taken care of. ]
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Let's go, darling. Then you can get some more sleep.
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His daughter's shift, covered in blood at her backside. It nearly drives him to his knees, bile rising in his throat and he can only stand there, frozen, not wanting to call attention to it, to make Brianna upset, to set her to tears again. He's never experienced this before, this feeling as though he can't quite breathe.
As soon as they leave and he can no longer hear their footfall, his empty soup bowl is hurled at the wall where it shatters.
Everything will be cleaned by the time they return, and the only hint of his tears will be far away in his eyes where only Claire can see. He's quiet, sitting on the edge of the bed stock still, unable to stop thinking about anything other than how horribly his daughter was brutalized, and it's where he'll be when they return. ]
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Would you like me to help, or wait out here?
[It's been many, many years since she last bathed Bree, but she's given her fare share of showers and baths to adults, given her career. She can make quick work of it. But she does understand if she'd like the time alone.]
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I'll be okay if you wait.
[ With that, she turns on the water and stands under the warm spray for a few moments before reaching for soap. Lathering her hands, she begins to wash her body, simple enough at first. But when she gets to her stomach she keeps scrubbing. A frown crosses her features and she scrubs harder, trying to get the feel of a dirty warm hand off of her. A hand that pressed her back, pushed her up, gripped her tightly.
Her scrubbing turns to scratching, trying and failing to get the memory, the imprint off of her. She doesn't even realize she's making noise, that she's sobbing by now as she tries to scrub at her body with fingers and nails. ]
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[There's a bench meant for getting dressed, and Claire sits, setting the pajamas down beside her. Belatedly, she realizes she should have at least taught Jamie the basics of texting. Oh, well. He'll be fine. No need to check on him every minute. Hopefully, he's forcing down some more soup.
Bree's not taking long, no. It's the sudden, unmistakable sound of her sobs that has Claire jumping to her feet and hurrying to the stall to see what's happened.
Too much.
Too much, and not enough, she hears Jamie say, long ago.]
Bree. Brianna, stop, stop. [Seeing what she's doing to herself, Claire makes a grab for her hands, getting herself and her wool dress soaked in the process but too concerned for her daughter to care.]
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[ It's a choked out sob, a plea though she doesn't know for what. It came out of nowhere, this overwhelming feeling that she will never be rid of him, that he is in her forever somehow, embedded in the fabric of who she is now.
All that she can do is cling to her mother tightly as she sobs, feeling broken and unable to find the pieces right now to put herself back together again. ]
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[Jamie felt Randall long after Wentworth. How many times did he wake up, drenched with sweat? She wasn't there for him, then. Didn't really know how to be. But for Bree, she does, and she holds her with all the strength she can muster.]
We will never, ever let an animal like that near you again. I swear it on my life.
[There wasn't much letting on their part before, though.]
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When she's cried out, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, wetting her lips. ]
I'm done.
[ Her words are flat; she means the shower, she's done in the shower and she just wants to close her eyes at the same time she's afraid to because of what will happen in her dreams. ]
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let me slide in here real quick
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