Archives for the Date March 27th, 2019

nature-and-culture: Most fawns will attempt to stand within…

nature-and-culture:

Most fawns will attempt to stand within the first ten minutes of being born. Most will succeed before twenty minutes is up. A five-day old fawn can outrun a man.

shesnake: Lucy Liu directing various episodes of Elementary…

shesnake:

Lucy Liu directing various episodes of Elementary between 2013 and 2018.

gaoyan: gaoyan:Gao Yan solo exhibition “房間日記 Room Diary” 6/1 -…

gaoyan:

gaoyan:

Gao Yan solo exhibition “房間日記 Room Diary”
6/1 – 6/25 Mangasick (Taiwan, Taipei)

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Imagine that the first significant person Bree meets in the colonies is Murtagh. It is through Bree that Murtagh finds out that Claire and Jamie are also in the colonies. What if it was Murtagh rather than Lizzie who witnessed Roger being a bit rough with Bree through the window that day?

So I was originally planning this to be a one shot but the ideas kept coming and now it’s going to be a limited multi-parter fic. Not completely sure how long yet but probably about four or five short installments. 


Hope of Change – Part One

Murtagh enjoyed delivery days, especially when the sun was high and weather beginning to grow stifling. The forge was a better refuge from the rain or the cold, when the heat inside wasn’t exacerbated by the conditions outside. Delivery days were also when he was able to gather and deliver the intelligence necessary for carrying out the Regulators’ plans.

He’d just delivered instructions to a few of his men to prepare for an upcoming action and hoped to relax over a hearty meal at the inn before getting on to some actual deliveries he had about Wilmington.

There was no helping the flash of red hair catching his attention as the young woman was led into the street by a dark-haired and disheveled man. The woman’s back was to him but the way the man took hold of her arms and shook her, the way she drew back as he got into her face. He seemed to be scolding her but she didn’t look ashamed or apologetic. She appeared to be pulling out of his grip and speaking forcefully right back.

Murtagh couldn’t help drawing closer—not eavesdropping, exactly, but he wanted to be sure the lass wasn’t in danger. Except he was eavesdropping, because if he hadn’t been he wouldn’t have heard the man call the lass ‘Brianna.’ And something about hearing that name made him pause and look at the lass more intently, drawing her eye and causing her to balk, moving closer to the man and startling him out of his anger or whatever it was that had him yelling.

“D’ye need somethin’?” the man asked, a challenge in his voice—maybe a hint of a threat?

“Are ye alright lass?” Murtagh ignored the man, his eyes locking with hers. Something in the way she looked at him…

“She’s fine,” the man asserted but the young woman rolled her eyes.

“I can speak for myself, Roger,” she hissed. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to cause a scene,” she apologized.

“Did he call ye ‘Brianna’ just then?” Murtagh asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to place the face, as he tried to decide if he saw it because it was truly there or if he saw it because he wanted to see it. “Who are yer parents, lass?”

At that the pair looked warily at each other.

“Why does it matter to you who my parents are?”

“Are ye Claire and Jamie’s daughter then?”

Brianna pushed past Roger to get closer to Murtagh.

“You know my parents? Are they here? Can you take me to them?”

“Brianna…” Roger tried to caution her but all her attention was focused on Murtagh.

“I ken them, aye. I havena had word from them since I left them at home on the Ridge. And aye… I suppose I can arrange to take ye to them, if ye like,” Murtagh answered her questions, hardly aware of the answers he was giving.

“Who are ye?” the man asked, taking a step forward to try and get between Murtagh and Brianna again. “Why should she trust ye?”

Murtagh, once again, keps his attention on Brianna, ignoring Roger. “Yer mam said she’d mentioned me when she told ye about Jamie. My name’s Murtagh.”

Recognition flashed in Brianna’s eyes and Roger appeared to relax by a fraction.

“But… we thought you had died at Culloden,” Brianna said with disbelief. “Though… Mama thought Jamie had too, until we found notes suggesting he hadn’t. We didn’t think to look for you too.”

“I ken,” Murtagh nodded. “Yer mother already explained.”

“You’ve really seen them then?” Brianna grew more animated, pushing past Roger.

Murtagh chuckled. “Aye. And I must say, Claire never thought ye’d make the journey yerself—nor did I get the impression she wanted ye to. Seems a terrible risk to take. Though, I’m sure they’ll be more’n happy to see ye.”

Brianna’s face fell a bit. “I hope so, but it’s not exactly to bring good news.” She reached into her pocket and started to pull out some papers.

“Geez Bree,” Roger protested, pushing at her hands to block people from seeing the photocopied page on top.

Brianna rolled her eyes but Murtagh waved them out of the road and toward the inn.

“Why don’ we take this inside, eh? I’ve no had food for a while and my belly’s achin’. We can find a table wi’ a bit of privacy, I should guess,” Murtagh suggested.

Brianna nodded and led the way into the inn, nearly toppling a young woman in the process.

“Christ, Lizzie,” Brianna exclaimed, catching the lass by the arms. “What’re you…”

“I was watchin’ to be sure ye were alright, miss,” Lizzie apologized. “I saw a man bein’ rough wi’ ye.”

Brianna shot a pointed look at Roger. “It’s alright, Lizzie. Go on upstairs and rest. We’re going to be going to Fraser’s Ridge before too long and you won’t get a proper bed again for a while, I expect.”

“Aye.” Lizzie made an awkward dip to Murtagh and Roger before turning on her heel and heading for the stairs.

“Don’t ask,” Brianna told the two men.

Murtagh glanced at Roger again but this time the man’s expression bore the same look of bafflement as his own.

Murtagh ordered ale and the stew before settling into a corner table with Brianna and Roger.

“Ye must be the historian helped Claire wi’ the search for Jamie,” Murtagh commented.

“Roger Mackenzie.”

“Mackenzie?” Murtagh shook his head. “I would ha’ remembered did Claire say yer name was Mackenzie.”

“His adopted name was Wakefield,” Brianna explained. “He’s going by Mackenzie here because… Actually, why are you using Mackenzie?”

Roger shrugged, a faint color rising in his cheeks. “I use it when performing. This… feels like a performance, ken? And… bein’ here in history seems as good a time as any to be gettin’ back to my own roots. But tha’s no why we’re here,” he redirected the conversation. “I’m here cause ye were daft enough to go through the stones on yer own.”

“Right. And I’m here to warn my parents.” Brianna pulled the paper out again and gave it to Murtagh.

“A fire… And of course, ye dinna ken when precisely,” he muttered tossing it down on the table.

“Exactly. Smudged the date. It could be as early as next year or almost a decade from now. Either way… I couldn’t just sit by without finding some way to warn them. If there’s the slightest chance it could make a difference…”

“Aye, lass. Even after what happened wi’ the Rising… I dinna ken as we could ha’ done anythin’ else, for all the difference it made,” Murtagh sympathized.

“I figure, it’s not trying to make a big change… so maybe it’ll work.”

“Mackenzie,” an oily voice called from the doorway. Color drained from Roger’s face as he looked over his shoulder. “I thought tha’ was you. We been lookin’ for ye since we docked and found ye’d vanished just as we were needin’ yer help unloadin’ the cargo. We were worried that ye’d been taken by thieves or vagrants, that ye were lyin’ in a ditch somewhere wi’ yer head bashed in from one as tried to rob ye.”

The man was blonde and bore a prominent scar down one side of his face. He was playing with an iron ring he wore on his pinky finger—a ring that caused both Brianna and Murtagh to sit up straighter. Murtagh let his hand fall to his side where the hilt of a dagger rested, ready and waiting.

“Is this yer lass then? Mmmm, perhaps ye were right and she was worth the fuss. But if ye were thinkin’ ye could take advantage of my earlier kindness by walkin’ off without upholdin’ your end of the bargain… Think again.”

artfilmfan: Damage (Louis Malle, 1992)

artfilmfan:

Damage (Louis Malle, 1992)

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