theoutlander:

I ship it:
           Claire + drinks

everythingfox:

The best couch

(via)

stewartandclarke:

requested by Anon: J&C + forehead touches

babyanimalgifs:

A very polite deer bowing to a tourist in Japan 

(via)

avasetocallmyown:

𝗷𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗲 𝘅 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗲 • ɛ۷ɛཞყ ɱơɱɛŋɬ, ɛ۷ɛཞყ ʂɛƈơŋɖ • 𝟯𝟴/∞

anonymous asked:  Brian and Ellen AU prompt: Did Ned Gowan manage to get Jamie that pardon? Imagine Jamie being able to live with his family openly again.

—

Brian and Ellen AU / Tell Me About Your Family

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12|| Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || Chapter 15

———-

“The way I see it - of course I can’t say that you didn’t fight, because you did. However, the reason you fought - that was based on a lie.”

Jamie sighed, rubbing his face with his hands, sinking even deeper into one of the chairs at his father’s desk. “My name is on that letter, Ned. Pledging my loyalty to Charles Stuart.”

Ned looked up from his hastily scribbled notes, eyes almost comically huge as they blinked behind his spectacles. “But you didn’t sign the original version of the letter. All we know is that your name appears in the final, published version.”

“And how do you think you’ll find the original?” Brian Fraser slumped in his own chair, mirroring his son’s posture. “You cannae exactly write to the prince and ask for the original copy.”

Ned smiled. “No - but I can find out the name of the printer who originally published it. He had to have been given something to work from.”

“You mean, the original version of the letter?” Jamie thumped his head back against the chair. “It cannae hurt to ask, I suppose. But even if you were to find the printer, there’s no guarantee he’d still have the original letter. Or that whatever he has, includes signatures.”

Calmly Ned lay the palms of his hands flat against the time-polished wood of Brian’s desk. “Are you saying you do not want me to try?”

Brian reached out to squeeze Jamie’s shoulder. “No. Let’s try. We have to.”

—

“Wait - hold on. And what’s in that crate?”

Rab Fraser huffed and shifted his burden to his free shoulder. Ellen Fraser squinted first at the side of the crate, and then at the inventory clutched in her hand.

“Box 14…more ledgers. Bring that to Da’s study, please, a bhailach.”

Rab disappeared down the hallway, just as Fergus and Young Jamie appeared, carrying another crate between them.

Ellen sighed. “I knew the library at Leoch was grand - but I had no idea that  Colum had added so much!”

At her side, Claire looked down at her own copy of the inventory. “Box 27…books in Greek and Latin. Would you mind if that one goes to my and Jamie’s bedroom, for now? He’ll know how best to sort them.”

“Aye. Away ye go, lads!”

And they did, breathing heavily as they navigated the crate upstairs.

“I don’t know if I ever told you about my audiences with Colum, when I first came to Leoch.” Claire adjusted the fabric wrapped around her shoulder and middle, and ten-month-old William Fraser blinked from his cocoon like a wee owl. “He didn’t know what to make of me. And he would only see me in his library.”

“I would sit in there for hours and hours on end.” Ellen sank into a spare chair, carefully laying the paper inventory on the dining room table. “It was my escape. Colum and I - we would pass many a cold winter afternoon there. Especially after the trouble with his legs started…he would lay on Father’s couch, and I’d read to him.”

Claire smiled sadly. “What would you read?”

“Greek odes. Shakespeare’s sonnets. Father’s library had so much to offer.” She smiled tightly. “I didnae have much of a formal education - apart from the basics, that is. I forced my way in to Colum and Dougal’s lessons wi’ their tutors. Even if I had to press myself up against the door, to listen.”

Brian appeared through the door. “They’re still unpacking?”

“Ian should be back any moment with the last wagonload.” Claire craned her neck, looking through the window and into the dooryard. “I still can’t believe how much Ned was able to save.”

“I still cannae believe he found the printer in Edinburgh who published Charles Stuart’s letter.” Brian eased into the chair beside his wife, and gently took her hand as she sighed.

“He’s always had a knack for that sort of thing.” Ellen squeezed Brian’s work-roughened hand. “Creative ideas. It’s kept him alive. And now, it keeps him young.”

“Jamie once told me something he had overheard Dougal say to Colum.” Carefully, Claire pulled William from his wrap, and settled his solid wee legs onto her lap, kissing the curls at his crown. “That they had only one brain and one cock between them.”

Ellen’s laugh rang clear through the house. 

“Oh, Claire - I havenae heard anything so funny in years.”

“Humor is best when it rings true,” Claire agreed. 

“And it will take me precisely two seconds to guess which brother had which.” Brian shook his head. “I was right to take ye away from them, mo nighean ruaidh.”

Ellen turned to face her husband. “Can ye blame me for jumping at the first chance I got?”

Faith, Brianna, Maggie, and Kitty scampered by in the hallway, giggling. On their heels, Jamie poked his head through the doorway - smiling broadly at his son, who squealed in delight. 

“Here ye all are. Ian just returned wi’ the final wagon.” He crossed the room and picked up his squirming son, tossing him up in the air.

Claire, Brian, and Ellen rose, just in time for Rab and Fergus and Young Jamie and Jenny and Ian to descend on the dining room once moor, huffing under the weight of the crates representing all that was left of Castle Leoch, and Colum MacKenzie.

—

The Fraser/Murrays were still unpacking the crates six days later, when Fergus darted into the house to announce that a visitor was approaching.

Ned Gowan rolled into the dooryard looking a little worse for wear, and for the tenth time Ellen was grateful that two of Grannie MacNab’s grandsons had accompanied him on the journey to Edinburgh. Ellen wrapped a kind arm around his back as soon as he alighted from the wagon, welcoming him home and promising a restorative meal and drink within minutes.

So it was that Brian and Ellen and Jamie and Claire and Ian and Jenny and Rab all gathered around the dining room table - Ned sitting at the head, tucking into an enormous portion of neeps and tatties. Regaling those assembled with tales of what he had seen on the road - the empty villages, the beggars, the highwaymen, the despair.

Edinburgh, fortunately, was largely unchanged - just featuring more redcoated soldiers than he had ever seen. Fortunately with the help of the MacNab lads, they had secured lodging and begun their interviews of every printer on the Royal Mile.

“We finally found him on the fifth day. Abraham Bell. He barely escaped the noose himself, after the Rising. He didn’t want to speak at first, but when I told him that I am formerly of Castle Leoch…”

Beneath the table, Jamie threaded his fingers through Claire’s, squeezing impatiently.

“…only after much cajoling that he furnished the copy of the letter that a member of Charles Stuart’s retinue had provided to him.”

“And?” Jamie’s voice was desperately calm.

Ned chewed on a potato, then swallowed. “It included the printed names of the signatories, and included a blank space where the signatures where meant to be. Your signature, Jamie - it decidedly was not there.”

“That doesna mean anything.” Jamie clenched his free hand into a fist on top of the table. “This Mr. Bell could have just been furnished a list of names to print.”

Ned set down his spoon. “Yours was the only signature not on the page, Jamie. All others were written, in ink.”

Claire let out a shaky breath, desperately squeezing Jamie’s hand.

“And the printer added Jamie’s,” Brian interjected, “because his was the only one not there.”

Ned nodded, beaming. “Precisely.”

“With respect,” Jenny piped up, “isn’t it only your word against this Mr. Bell’s? How can ye convince anyone of this?”

Ned’s smile widened even further, and he patted his breast pocket. “Because I have the letter here.” 

He turned to Jamie. “We have evidence to support the petition. Do you still want to move forward?”

“Yes,” Jamie breathed, without hesitation. “Yes. Definitely.”

Ned picked up his spoon and dove back into his food. “Then tomorrow, lad - we begin.”