[ Jamie is surprised, and touched, that she wants him close; maybe he shouldn't be so surprised, considering she wanted both he and Claire to hold her in Nadril. Carefully, he lays beside her, on his side with his head propped on his elbow. ]
Perhaps I should start, wi' how yer grandparents met.
[ He smiles deciding that yes, that's a good place, and he begins to tell the story of Ellen and Brian Fraser, how his mother defied her uncles, how his father defied his own and built Lallybroch for his family. He tells her everything good of his childhood, of Jenny, of his parents and their love for one another. Jamie keeps his voice low but it's still rich and full of life and passion for the story he's telling his daughter, every now and again, reaching out to stroke her hair. It's exactly as his mother's was, and it makes him emotional to see that his child looks so much like her. ]
[ Bree listens with rapt attention until she begins to get tired. When that happens, she moves closer to Jamie, letting him wrap his arms around her. She doesn't realize when she drifts to sleep, but soon she's completely out, breathing deep and evenly.
[ When he feels her start to go boneless, Jamie gather her to his chest, fingers stroking the back of her head as he switches to Gaelic. He tells her even more, of how he felt the first time he ever saw Claire, how nervous he was to be a good enough husband to her. How easily the love came for him.
He has no idea how long he lays there with her, going quiet, kissing her forehead every now and then, listening to her breathe. ]
[When Jamie quite late in coming to bed once Claire finished cleaning up, she begins to worry. She gives it a bit. Sets out his clothes for the morning. Sets out her clothes. Pulls down the bedding so he can slip in easily. Fluffs the pillows. But then it's too much, and the concern to great, and so she quietly pads over to Bree's room to make sure they're both all right.
Apparently, they're more than all right. The sight takes her breath away, seeing him hold her, soothing her with his voice.
She lingers at the doorway for a bit, wondering how the hell she's so lucky to have them both, before daring to break the magic by stepping into the room.
But instead of squeezing in behind Bree, she chooses to fit herself against Jamie's other side without a word. There. Now he can hold them both.]
[She teases, voice quiet, and her hand reaching out to stroke Bree's arm. This might have been the proper way for all of them to cuddle up. It's easy for Claire to see their daughter, and brush away stray strands of hair from her face.]
[ He lets out a breath, watches as Bree smiles again in her sleep, and could weep with pride and joy. ]
She's beautiful, Claire. To be able to hold her, tell her stories. I cannae...
[ Claire had that, he didn't, and now he's like a man with vision for the first time, unable to believe it, that he's doing this himself when all he could do before was dare to hope for a 'one day' that would likely never come. ]
And she wants this. She wouldn't be right here if she didn't like it, you realize.
[She accepts him. Claire worried, for a little while, how complicated her feelings might be, torn between two fathers. The thing is, she's not choosing. There's no one to betray.]
A gift from me to you, and you to me. But I think the real gift is finally, finally seeing the two of you together. She's no baby, no little girl, but she still fits well in your arms, doesn't she?
Aye, I'll be fine. And I'm glad ye said so. I'm no' ready to leave her.
[ He would, if Claire thought it best, but no. He'd rather stay, rather hold her, comfort her on the spot if she needs it. After a few eats, he looks over at Claire again. ]
She told me herself the nightmares come when she's alone.
[But, they've figured that out already. She only really cries out for her when she's not there.]
... all of it?
[France, being what it was, isn't full of many happy memories for either of them. So, when telling Bree and Roger of their time there, she skipped over quite a lot.]
[ But they so rarely speak her name aloud, a name they didn't give her. A name given because neither of them could. He wonders if she's in stasis somewhere like other dead, like Frank, but he doesn't dare ask. ]
I just... I just didn't want her to have to swallow that on top of everything else. And--it was difficult to talk about her. I hadn't in so long. I didn't forget her. Or not want Bree to never know, I just...
[He understands, he says, and she believes him. Still.]
I promise ye, Claire, ye dinna have to explain anythin' to either of us. An dtuigeann tú?
[ Do you understand? He needs her to, he needs her to know she will never have to explain herself surrounding the aftermath of Faith for as long as they live.
He wasn't there, and he has no right to tell her how to process, any of it. ]
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Perhaps I should start, wi' how yer grandparents met.
[ He smiles deciding that yes, that's a good place, and he begins to tell the story of Ellen and Brian Fraser, how his mother defied her uncles, how his father defied his own and built Lallybroch for his family. He tells her everything good of his childhood, of Jenny, of his parents and their love for one another. Jamie keeps his voice low but it's still rich and full of life and passion for the story he's telling his daughter, every now and again, reaching out to stroke her hair. It's exactly as his mother's was, and it makes him emotional to see that his child looks so much like her. ]
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And she smiles in her sleep. ]
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He has no idea how long he lays there with her, going quiet, kissing her forehead every now and then, listening to her breathe. ]
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Apparently, they're more than all right. The sight takes her breath away, seeing him hold her, soothing her with his voice.
She lingers at the doorway for a bit, wondering how the hell she's so lucky to have them both, before daring to break the magic by stepping into the room.
But instead of squeezing in behind Bree, she chooses to fit herself against Jamie's other side without a word. There. Now he can hold them both.]
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She's calling me 'da,' Claire.
[ The pride in his voice is immense. ]
She wanted to hear stories of family, I sent her to sleep that way. Hopefully in peace.
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[She teases, voice quiet, and her hand reaching out to stroke Bree's arm. This might have been the proper way for all of them to cuddle up. It's easy for Claire to see their daughter, and brush away stray strands of hair from her face.]
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[ He lets out a breath, watches as Bree smiles again in her sleep, and could weep with pride and joy. ]
She's beautiful, Claire. To be able to hold her, tell her stories. I cannae...
[ Claire had that, he didn't, and now he's like a man with vision for the first time, unable to believe it, that he's doing this himself when all he could do before was dare to hope for a 'one day' that would likely never come. ]
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[She accepts him. Claire worried, for a little while, how complicated her feelings might be, torn between two fathers. The thing is, she's not choosing. There's no one to betray.]
Her da brings her comfort.
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It's all I've ever wanted, Sassenach. To take care of her. Of you. Both of ye, always.
[ Jamie smiles softly, looking at Claire over Brianna. ]
Ye gave me an incredible gift, Claire.
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[He'd never let her go if he could, she knows.]
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[ He shakes his head but it's in happy awe. ]
Should we leave her to rest or stay?
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[Her bed is nicer than what they had in Nadril, so there's no need for all his bones to crack when he gets up later.]
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[ He would, if Claire thought it best, but no. He'd rather stay, rather hold her, comfort her on the spot if she needs it. After a few eats, he looks over at Claire again. ]
I told about France. All of it.
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[But, they've figured that out already. She only really cries out for her when she's not there.]
... all of it?
[France, being what it was, isn't full of many happy memories for either of them. So, when telling Bree and Roger of their time there, she skipped over quite a lot.]
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[ It's his one-word answer as he rubs the back of Brianna's head. ]
I didna realize she had no knowledge of her.
[ Not said in accusation, just a reason why he felt the need to explain. ]
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Was she angry?
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[ Jame reaches, to touch Claire's cheek softly. ]
I do think of her as well. Often.
[ But they so rarely speak her name aloud, a name they didn't give her. A name given because neither of them could. He wonders if she's in stasis somewhere like other dead, like Frank, but he doesn't dare ask. ]
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[Most babies do, she knows, but the red hair did her in more than once.]
Are you upset I didn't tell her?
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[ His hand cradles to her cheek now. ]
No. No, I'm no' upset, mo chridhe. I understand why. So does Brianna. Dinna fash.
[ He tries to soothe, the best he can, not wanting her to worry that he's angry. ]
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[He understands, he says, and she believes him. Still.]
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[ Do you understand? He needs her to, he needs her to know she will never have to explain herself surrounding the aftermath of Faith for as long as they live.
He wasn't there, and he has no right to tell her how to process, any of it. ]