I wish I had time to make you something like mine, but this will have to do.
[It had originally been only Claire that was supposed to go, but plans change. She knows that better than anyone by now. The 18th century was dangerous, untamed compared to 1968 Boston, but how was Claire any better equipped than Bree when she first went through the stones? It was a gamble in every way, bringing Brianna with her, but they had both found themselves on that hill in the middle of the standing stones. Sore, skulls aching, but there in the proper time. Jamie could see more than just photographs of his daughter. He could see her.
They arrive in Edinburgh too late in the evening to search for Jamie, and so they rent a room... after quickly ducking into a shop that was just about to close up for the day. The frustrated owner hurried them, and so the stay and skirt she picked out for Brianna don't quite match well, but it's what was on hand. Besides, the coat she shoved her in before they left for the airport manages to cover it well enough, and that fits well enough if you ignore the zips on the pockets. Christ.]
It's a bit like playing dress up, isn't it? How do you like it?
[It's some time before they turn in and Claire needs a distraction. Bree trying on her new clothes is a perfect one.]
[ She hadn't believed it. Even seeing her mother's friend, the woman so righteous about Scotland, go through the stones, hadn't really made it sink in. Then they'd gone home, everything was different, and Bree felt so unsettled. She knew she wanted her mother to go back, to find Jamie because he was clearly everything to her. Still, it didn't feel right for her to go alone, and without knowing her father she's inherited his stubbornness. Combined with Claire's, she's a force of her own to be reckoned with.
That's why she's currently in the 18th century in clothing she can't breathe in with her hair in some updo she couldn't even do herself. ]
Dress up for people who like torture.
[ She huffs and moves her hands over her skirt. ]
Why do I have to wear something that makes my hips look wider? Is there a point?
[ She's turning, looking at herself in the mirror by candlelight. ]
Why do you wear your hair straight? Is there a point?
[It's the fashion of the time. Claire teases her gently, reaching up to tuck away a stray strand of red hair that's fallen loose.]
It's just what's considered normal, for this time. You'll get used to it.
[Claire steps back, breath catching in her throat. Bree's a vision. If Claire can block out the rest, she can imagine that she didn't get torn away from this time. That this is where Bree grew, and that this is her life. That they're not leaping into the unknown. It's none of that, of course, but it's nice for a moment.]
You have the look of his mother. There's a painting of her, in Lallybroch. [She'd spent plenty of time looking at the paintings on the walls. Jenny, a young Jamie and Willie, their parents. There had been so many talks of getting portraits done of themselves, the laird and lady, but it never came to pass. They thought they would have more time.]
[The mention of her hair has her laughing a little under her breath, reaching up to touch the spots where the grays are hidden. It is silly. A few washes and they'll be back, but it gave her some confidence when she began to overthink things.]
I know. It's just... when I think of him, I can only picture him how he was. Tall, and strong, and... everything.
[God only knows what Culloden and so many years in prison had done to him. He's well enough to be a printer, but that tells her little. Brianna does coax a warm smile from her, and she shifts to face her, covering her hand with her own and giving it a squeeze.]
I don't know. His sister--your aunt Jenny--should still be living there with her children and her husband, Ian. I don't know if Jamie frequents it or not anymore, given it's not in his name. But I hope we can at least visit. [God only knows where they'll live.] The house is lovely. Your grandfather built it, long ago. It was still there in 1968. I visited when you were out with Roger.
[ At least, not that she remembers, but that's hardly the important thing. ]
He's going to be so surprised to see you he won't even notice anything you're worried about. I promise. If he does, just shove me in front of him. It should buy you some time.
[ She's trying to make sure the air around them is light, not wanting Claire to worry. And with the way things were between them before finding out Jamie was definitely alive, it feels like they need this, to talk and finally learn to be closer to one another. ]
Do you think --
[ Briana pauses, then thinks about her words before speaking again. ]
Do you think he'll want to get to know me?
[ She's so different from him, her life, her experiences, where she's from. It's drastically different, and she's not sure what sort of expectations he might have. ]
[She didn't. A selfish part of her wanted to keep that to herself. She had been saying goodbye to her home, to Jamie. That was hers.]
Oh, darling. He's going to want to hear everything. And you're going to have the chance to tell him yourself. [Her palm presses to Bree's cheek, the smile on her lips fond. There's no doubt in her mind that Jamie will want to know--even if he has another life, another family, she knows he'll want to know about his daughter.]
Jamie loved you very much. [They never got to talk about it. About this second child, because there just wasn't time. Bu she knows.] And I think he'll love this strong, brilliant young lady you've become. He'll be so proud of you.
If everything you've said about him is true, he'll be proud of you, too.
[ Bree's worried, about how she'll fit into his life, if either of them will, now. But they're here, and everything she said back home is still true: there isn't any way, based on how Claire has spoken of him, that he isn't still just as in love as he was when he let her go twenty years ago. ]
All of the things I said, before I believed you, it wasn't...
[ Well, it was true then, so she rephrases mid-sentence. ]
I just missed dad. I still do. I wanted you to miss him, too. But you've been missing someone for so long.
[She hopes Jamie will be proud of her. Proud of her as a mother--she'd tried to raise Bree in a way he'd approve, even if he wasn't there to see it. Sometimes that clashed with Frank, but rarely. The important thing was that Brianna grow up safe and loved, and she most certainly was. At the very least, she can say she did that.]
Frank is still your father. Jamie--meeting Jamie, and sharing your life with him won't take that away. [Does she miss Frank? Sometimes. She misses that they never found a way to be truly happy, and she does regret how difficult the marriage must have been for him. All those years, not being able to be with the person you loved. They were both suffering.
But she knows he'd say it was worth it to raise Bree. They would always agree on that.]
And you can talk about him to Jamie. He'll want to know that he made the right choice in sending us back.
[ That gives Bree pause, thinking about that as she looks away from Claire and at some random object in the room. She looks, unquestionably, like Jamie when she does, deep in thought as she turns over her mother's words in her head. ]
I don't want to hurt him. He's lost so much already.
[ Now, she looks back at Claire. ]
He wanted to be my father but did what he had to, to keep us safe. He'll see that I turned out okay. I think. Maybe that's enough.
[ It isn't that she doesn't want to celebrate Frank, he was her father through and through. Teaching her how to ride a bicycle, birthday hugs and kisses, cuddling in his lap while he read to her and teaching her to drive. All of those things were with the only father she ever knew, and he was amazing at it. But she's self-aware enough now, now that all of this is real and she's traveled back in time, to know she doesn't want to rub those memories in the face of the man who lost everything. ]
It might hurt no matter what. I know Jamie. [Or at least she did.] He'll wonder.
[That stubborn piece of loose hair. Claire reaches up to tuck it behind Bree's ear again, studying her face. She truly does look like her father, and her grandmother. Even without saying a word of who she is, perhaps Jamie will know.]
He's going to be so happy to see you, Bree.
[More than she can comprehend. Having children was so important to him--maybe he has more, now, but she doubts any carry the significance that this one does.]
That's all that he'll care about, you know. That you're happy and healthy.
[ Bree smiles, letting Claire fix her hair yet again. In a world without hair products, things might become as unruly as her mother's hair. She'll need all the help she can get, honestly. ]
I think you should see him first. Alone.
[ She stands and goes to the window, looking out for a minute as she lets her words sink in before turning back to Claire. ]
I wanted to come because I couldn't stand the idea of losing you, too, maybe forever. But you deserve to see him on your own.
[ And do whatever things they need to that she will firmly not think about. ]
Then, maybe you can both come here and I can meet him with you, maybe we can surprise him somehow. But I really think it's you he should see first. Not me.
[She has a point. It's going to be... a lot, for all of them, and she's not so sure she wants to send Jamie to an early grave. Claire sighs, but nods.]
If you're sure. But I don't know if you should jump out and yell surprise.
[ Bree smiles again, wryly this time, and that - that is all Claire. ]
I'm sure. And you said it yourself, he'll want to know all about me. I bet it's one of the first things he asks once he gets over you actually standing in front of him again. You missed him for twenty years and I don't know him yet. It should just be you tomorrow morning.
[ Looking at herself once more in the mirror, she realizes there's a reason movies set in older centuries always had someone there to help characters get out of these clothes. ]
How do I change for bed if I can't do it on my own?
[Smiling, Claire stands to move beside Bree, turning her by the shoulders.]
I don't know when it was you became such a thoughtful young woman.
[Jamie will be so proud. It's all she can think about, even more than bow he'll react to seeing her. Claire tugs at some of the lanes on the front of Bree's stay.]
You'll figure it out. Sometimes, if it's cold, you'll just sleep on all of this. But hopefully we'll have a roof over our heads most nights, so you can sleep in your shift. I'll free you this time.
[ She was going to comment on that first thing, but then Claire says something about sleeping outside, and Bree turns her head to look over her shoulder at her mother. ]
Outside? Why would we have to sleep outside?
[ And she honestly can't imagine sleeping in any of this. Maybe the underthings, but she never factored in what sleeping conditions would be like in the 18th century. ]
[Claire hardly pauses in her unlacing. She just smiles, mostly to herself, and carries on.]
Not every destination has a hotel on the way like Boston. Truth be told, I couldn't tell you where we're staying--it could be here, it could be Lallybroch, or it could be somewhere else. It all depends on Jamie.
[If he has a wife and children, well, he certainly wouldn't be bringing Brianna and Claire home. The last of the laces undone, she'll let it rest on Bree as she begins on the skirts.]
It's not that bad. But it's also why I made my clothing out of raincoats.
[Introductions are made, hurried explanations made, and Jamie and Claire head off to see about horses and a trip to Lallybroch. It leaves Fergus and Bree standing alone in the print shop, the shock and awe still clear on his face given how his eyebrows seem to be permanently elevated. Claire returning was one thing--but with a daughter? A miracle, truly. She takes after her parents in every way Fergus can name, and it's a wonder to simply watch her movements and expressions and pin where she got each one.
He's not often at a loss of words around girls, especially pretty ones, but here he is. He's supposed to be showing her around the shop and town, but currently, he's rubbing the back of his neck and trying to find something to say that isn't a variation of wow. He's already done that several times, including some in French, rattling off his questions so quickly that Jamie had to put a hand on his shoulder and remind him to speak English so that she'd understand.
Strange for her to not know French like her mother, but perhaps things are that different in America. It would explain the accent, too...]
[ Bree, at first, is so excited to be simply doing something that she leaves Fergus to gape, wandering around the shop, imagining Jamie here, working, lost in his thoughts as he methodically prints pages for books and leaflets. It's amazing to her, knowing how much hard work goes into it, knowing machines do it in 1968. But of course, she can't say any of that to Fergus.
When she turns her attention back to him, she can't help smirking a little. ]
I can tell you're still curious. Go on, ask whatever you want about me.
[ She sits, making herself comfortable on a stool. ]
[Jamie had given him a look that most certainly communicated to not ask too much, but he's not here, is he? And if Brianna's inviting him to ask, there can't be any harm in it. So, with a grin, Fergus sits.]
Did you really not know about Milord being alive until recently? Milady did not speak of him?
[The most important thing, really. Claire's explanation had been hurried and brief, but it still baffles him that two decades were lost. He remembers Paris well despite being a young boy at the time. The loss of their first child changed the Frasers forever, and he knows how much Jamie longed to have a child of his own.]
[ This one at least, might be somewhat easy to answer and Bree looks down for a moment, pressing her thumb into her palm. ]
I think it broke her heart to think of him. Every time she looked at me, she already saw someone she thought she wouldn't ever see again. I think talking about my father would have hurt, too much.
[ She believes that, forehead creasing a little bit as she looks up at Fergus. ]
To be able to be there for me at all, I think she had to...push the pain away somehow. And that meant never talking about her past. Not because she didn't love him.
[ Maybe because she never stopped and nothing, not even Bree, could fill that hole in Claire's heart. ]
[Strange, seeing that touch of thumb into palm. A thing Jamie often did, from an old injury long healed, but Fergus saw him do it without thought. A coincidence or something passed down in blood? He's not sure.]
He... did not speak of her much, either. [Never uttered her name, though now and then he could tell where his mind was. Fergus himself had so many questions, but Jamie never answered them, and after a time he resigned himself to never knowing the true details of what happened at Culloden.]
They were very happy together. I think that they can regain that, no?
[ Or going back in time is really going to suck. ]
I didn't know anything at all until a little while ago. When she found out Jamie lived for a while, she never hoped he'd actually still be alive today. Prison isn't exactly forgiving, I've heard.
[ Brianna stands again, just pacing idly, one hand very lightly moving respectfully over one of the presses. ]
But then someone showed up with something printed by Alexander Malcolm. All she really had was hope to go on. and I think if that hope was enough to bring us both here, it has to be enough.
[An incredible tale, he says wistfully, never breaking that habit of slipping into French despite being away from Paris for so long.]
I think the prison was a comfort to Milord. Before, he was living in a cave, near Lallybroch. He was not happy. Later, when he came back to Lallybroch... things were better. And now he will be whole again.
[ Bree lets out a short laugh and shakes her head. ]
I don't even know what I imagined other than red hair. And a Scottish accent. I knew he was a printer already, obviously. But I feel like there's so much I couldn't imagine because my mother never talked about him.
[ Facing Fergus again, she leans carefully against a machine. ]
I want to spend more time with him. We're both a little awkward right now. But he's my father, we have to have things in common, right?
[ He's a part of her, he's in her blood. And at least she wants to try. ]
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[It had originally been only Claire that was supposed to go, but plans change. She knows that better than anyone by now. The 18th century was dangerous, untamed compared to 1968 Boston, but how was Claire any better equipped than Bree when she first went through the stones? It was a gamble in every way, bringing Brianna with her, but they had both found themselves on that hill in the middle of the standing stones. Sore, skulls aching, but there in the proper time. Jamie could see more than just photographs of his daughter. He could see her.
They arrive in Edinburgh too late in the evening to search for Jamie, and so they rent a room... after quickly ducking into a shop that was just about to close up for the day. The frustrated owner hurried them, and so the stay and skirt she picked out for Brianna don't quite match well, but it's what was on hand. Besides, the coat she shoved her in before they left for the airport manages to cover it well enough, and that fits well enough if you ignore the zips on the pockets. Christ.]
It's a bit like playing dress up, isn't it? How do you like it?
[It's some time before they turn in and Claire needs a distraction. Bree trying on her new clothes is a perfect one.]
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That's why she's currently in the 18th century in clothing she can't breathe in with her hair in some updo she couldn't even do herself. ]
Dress up for people who like torture.
[ She huffs and moves her hands over her skirt. ]
Why do I have to wear something that makes my hips look wider? Is there a point?
[ She's turning, looking at herself in the mirror by candlelight. ]
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[It's the fashion of the time. Claire teases her gently, reaching up to tuck away a stray strand of red hair that's fallen loose.]
It's just what's considered normal, for this time. You'll get used to it.
[Claire steps back, breath catching in her throat. Bree's a vision. If Claire can block out the rest, she can imagine that she didn't get torn away from this time. That this is where Bree grew, and that this is her life. That they're not leaping into the unknown. It's none of that, of course, but it's nice for a moment.]
You have the look of his mother. There's a painting of her, in Lallybroch. [She'd spent plenty of time looking at the paintings on the walls. Jenny, a young Jamie and Willie, their parents. There had been so many talks of getting portraits done of themselves, the laird and lady, but it never came to pass. They thought they would have more time.]
You're going to take his breath away.
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You will too, you know. I still don't understand why you dyed your hair. If twenty years passed for you, they passed for him, too. He'll be different.
[ Bree reaches out and puts her hand on her mother's arm. She has so many questions but they can wait because they really haven't had time to talk. ]
What was Lallybroch like? Do you think we'll ever go there?
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I know. It's just... when I think of him, I can only picture him how he was. Tall, and strong, and... everything.
[God only knows what Culloden and so many years in prison had done to him. He's well enough to be a printer, but that tells her little. Brianna does coax a warm smile from her, and she shifts to face her, covering her hand with her own and giving it a squeeze.]
I don't know. His sister--your aunt Jenny--should still be living there with her children and her husband, Ian. I don't know if Jamie frequents it or not anymore, given it's not in his name. But I hope we can at least visit. [God only knows where they'll live.] The house is lovely. Your grandfather built it, long ago. It was still there in 1968. I visited when you were out with Roger.
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[ At least, not that she remembers, but that's hardly the important thing. ]
He's going to be so surprised to see you he won't even notice anything you're worried about. I promise. If he does, just shove me in front of him. It should buy you some time.
[ She's trying to make sure the air around them is light, not wanting Claire to worry. And with the way things were between them before finding out Jamie was definitely alive, it feels like they need this, to talk and finally learn to be closer to one another. ]
Do you think --
[ Briana pauses, then thinks about her words before speaking again. ]
Do you think he'll want to get to know me?
[ She's so different from him, her life, her experiences, where she's from. It's drastically different, and she's not sure what sort of expectations he might have. ]
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Oh, darling. He's going to want to hear everything. And you're going to have the chance to tell him yourself. [Her palm presses to Bree's cheek, the smile on her lips fond. There's no doubt in her mind that Jamie will want to know--even if he has another life, another family, she knows he'll want to know about his daughter.]
Jamie loved you very much. [They never got to talk about it. About this second child, because there just wasn't time. Bu she knows.] And I think he'll love this strong, brilliant young lady you've become. He'll be so proud of you.
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[ Bree's worried, about how she'll fit into his life, if either of them will, now. But they're here, and everything she said back home is still true: there isn't any way, based on how Claire has spoken of him, that he isn't still just as in love as he was when he let her go twenty years ago. ]
All of the things I said, before I believed you, it wasn't...
[ Well, it was true then, so she rephrases mid-sentence. ]
I just missed dad. I still do. I wanted you to miss him, too. But you've been missing someone for so long.
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Frank is still your father. Jamie--meeting Jamie, and sharing your life with him won't take that away. [Does she miss Frank? Sometimes. She misses that they never found a way to be truly happy, and she does regret how difficult the marriage must have been for him. All those years, not being able to be with the person you loved. They were both suffering.
But she knows he'd say it was worth it to raise Bree. They would always agree on that.]
And you can talk about him to Jamie. He'll want to know that he made the right choice in sending us back.
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I don't want to hurt him. He's lost so much already.
[ Now, she looks back at Claire. ]
He wanted to be my father but did what he had to, to keep us safe. He'll see that I turned out okay. I think. Maybe that's enough.
[ It isn't that she doesn't want to celebrate Frank, he was her father through and through. Teaching her how to ride a bicycle, birthday hugs and kisses, cuddling in his lap while he read to her and teaching her to drive. All of those things were with the only father she ever knew, and he was amazing at it. But she's self-aware enough now, now that all of this is real and she's traveled back in time, to know she doesn't want to rub those memories in the face of the man who lost everything. ]
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[That stubborn piece of loose hair. Claire reaches up to tuck it behind Bree's ear again, studying her face. She truly does look like her father, and her grandmother. Even without saying a word of who she is, perhaps Jamie will know.]
He's going to be so happy to see you, Bree.
[More than she can comprehend. Having children was so important to him--maybe he has more, now, but she doubts any carry the significance that this one does.]
That's all that he'll care about, you know. That you're happy and healthy.
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I think you should see him first. Alone.
[ She stands and goes to the window, looking out for a minute as she lets her words sink in before turning back to Claire. ]
I wanted to come because I couldn't stand the idea of losing you, too, maybe forever. But you deserve to see him on your own.
[ And do whatever things they need to that she will firmly not think about. ]
Then, maybe you can both come here and I can meet him with you, maybe we can surprise him somehow. But I really think it's you he should see first. Not me.
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If you're sure. But I don't know if you should jump out and yell surprise.
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[ Bree smiles again, wryly this time, and that - that is all Claire. ]
I'm sure. And you said it yourself, he'll want to know all about me. I bet it's one of the first things he asks once he gets over you actually standing in front of him again. You missed him for twenty years and I don't know him yet. It should just be you tomorrow morning.
[ Looking at herself once more in the mirror, she realizes there's a reason movies set in older centuries always had someone there to help characters get out of these clothes. ]
How do I change for bed if I can't do it on my own?
[ Yet, anyway. She'll get used to it. Probably. ]
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I don't know when it was you became such a thoughtful young woman.
[Jamie will be so proud. It's all she can think about, even more than bow he'll react to seeing her. Claire tugs at some of the lanes on the front of Bree's stay.]
You'll figure it out. Sometimes, if it's cold, you'll just sleep on all of this. But hopefully we'll have a roof over our heads most nights, so you can sleep in your shift. I'll free you this time.
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Outside? Why would we have to sleep outside?
[ And she honestly can't imagine sleeping in any of this. Maybe the underthings, but she never factored in what sleeping conditions would be like in the 18th century. ]
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Not every destination has a hotel on the way like Boston. Truth be told, I couldn't tell you where we're staying--it could be here, it could be Lallybroch, or it could be somewhere else. It all depends on Jamie.
[If he has a wife and children, well, he certainly wouldn't be bringing Brianna and Claire home. The last of the laces undone, she'll let it rest on Bree as she begins on the skirts.]
It's not that bad. But it's also why I made my clothing out of raincoats.
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drags Claire back in
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He's not often at a loss of words around girls, especially pretty ones, but here he is. He's supposed to be showing her around the shop and town, but currently, he's rubbing the back of his neck and trying to find something to say that isn't a variation of wow. He's already done that several times, including some in French, rattling off his questions so quickly that Jamie had to put a hand on his shoulder and remind him to speak English so that she'd understand.
Strange for her to not know French like her mother, but perhaps things are that different in America. It would explain the accent, too...]
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When she turns her attention back to him, she can't help smirking a little. ]
I can tell you're still curious. Go on, ask whatever you want about me.
[ She sits, making herself comfortable on a stool. ]
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Did you really not know about Milord being alive until recently? Milady did not speak of him?
[The most important thing, really. Claire's explanation had been hurried and brief, but it still baffles him that two decades were lost. He remembers Paris well despite being a young boy at the time. The loss of their first child changed the Frasers forever, and he knows how much Jamie longed to have a child of his own.]
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I think it broke her heart to think of him. Every time she looked at me, she already saw someone she thought she wouldn't ever see again. I think talking about my father would have hurt, too much.
[ She believes that, forehead creasing a little bit as she looks up at Fergus. ]
To be able to be there for me at all, I think she had to...push the pain away somehow. And that meant never talking about her past. Not because she didn't love him.
[ Maybe because she never stopped and nothing, not even Bree, could fill that hole in Claire's heart. ]
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He... did not speak of her much, either. [Never uttered her name, though now and then he could tell where his mind was. Fergus himself had so many questions, but Jamie never answered them, and after a time he resigned himself to never knowing the true details of what happened at Culloden.]
They were very happy together. I think that they can regain that, no?
[A small smile. He can already tell it's there.
... he just hopes it can last.]
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[ Or going back in time is really going to suck. ]
I didn't know anything at all until a little while ago. When she found out Jamie lived for a while, she never hoped he'd actually still be alive today. Prison isn't exactly forgiving, I've heard.
[ Brianna stands again, just pacing idly, one hand very lightly moving respectfully over one of the presses. ]
But then someone showed up with something printed by Alexander Malcolm. All she really had was hope to go on. and I think if that hope was enough to bring us both here, it has to be enough.
no subject
I think the prison was a comfort to Milord. Before, he was living in a cave, near Lallybroch. He was not happy. Later, when he came back to Lallybroch... things were better. And now he will be whole again.
Is he what you imagined?
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I don't even know what I imagined other than red hair. And a Scottish accent. I knew he was a printer already, obviously. But I feel like there's so much I couldn't imagine because my mother never talked about him.
[ Facing Fergus again, she leans carefully against a machine. ]
I want to spend more time with him. We're both a little awkward right now. But he's my father, we have to have things in common, right?
[ He's a part of her, he's in her blood. And at least she wants to try. ]