entrancelogs | this is weird but would I change it? } OTA

Entry tags:

this is weird but would I change it? } OTA

Who: Claire & Jamie Fraser, Bree Randall, you???
Where: Claire's room, the clinic
When: Dec. 15-18
Rating: PG at most probably?
Summary: A very Lallybroch and North Carolina Yultide
The Story:

Fraser Residence

[ The entire week has been overwhelming, to say the absolute least about it. There's another version of herself floating around and Claire's contemplated saying something network wide but it doesn't feel right to do. But the sleepless nights, knowing exactly what's going through her younger self's mind, knowing how much is to come for her is...well. It's keeping her up at night.

That's why, late, she's strolling with Jamie around the grounds, just to clear their minds, hope for peaceful sleep. When they get back to their room, Claire opens the door and walks inside but then just stares. She doesn't even say anything, letting Jamie see it for himself.

The room is full of people and it's Lallybroch - full on, a Hogmanay celebration happening. As Claire watches, stunned, she realizes these people can't see her but the music, the dancing, it's all happening around her. Jenny and Ian, and there, together, are Jamie and Claire, dancing to a fiddler, younger - much younger - and Brianna running between their legs. Claire knows it's her because she could never forget that small face, but oh. It still makes her breath catch.

It's a Christmas past that never came to be, and she presses her fingers to her lips, feeling an ache in her chest. After about ten minutes the scene loops back to the beginning, playing again.

Anyone is welcome to see this scene should they visit the Fraser's. Once she's out of her stupor about it she'll explain what home was once, but how this version of it never happened for any of them. ]

The Clinic

[ Not even her usual place of solace is free from the event. It's as she's sitting at her desk in her office that she hears a baby begin to fuss and she looks up, realizing the immediate area in front of her has changed. There's a cabin, Jamie kneeling at the hearth with snow falling outside. Stockings hung as Claire (older now, the gray present in her hair) explains why and what for and that it isn't silly. There are four stockings, and the Claire watching the scene unfold wonders until.

Until.

Brianna wanders out, a child swaddled in her arms, held protective and close.

"Jemmy wanted his grandpa, I think."

"Och, give him here, then, the fire'll keep."

She watches as Jamie, a man denied the right to hold all three of his children cradles a grandchild close to his chest and it makes Claire's knees buckle, sinking back down into her office chair. Is this the future? Bree in North Carolina with them, a child, presumably a husband. (But no fifth stocking?) She blindly reaches for her messenger and just sends a text telling Jamie to get to the clinic.

Anyone visiting the clinic will see the scene, and it loops and loops and loops. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bree's watched the scene over and over again, and it just makes her sad for her parents, really. Bree can't really put anything to this, she had happy holidays with both Claire and Frank, they were always special. So she's having a hard time but she can understand it, for Jamie especially, why it would be so upsetting.

Lightly, she knocks on the open bedroom door and looks at him.

"Wanna go for a walk?" she asks quietly. Away from here, from this scene that will never happen. "Mama went to go make sure there are enough medical supplies stocked up, on account of all the new people."

Bree's pretty sure she just wanted out of the room for a little while, too.

The sadness he feels is on a level Claire simply can't understand; she had this, for years. She watched Brianna grow up, and Jamie missed all of it. So just this, just this fleeting glimpse of his child, is both a blessing and a curse. It was Frank who raised her, Frank whose arms held her through nightmares, childhood fevers, and heartbreak. It was Frank whom she adored.

"Aye. There's no an ill that a wee bit of fresh air canna heal," he smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Bree actually extends her hand to him, offering him another smile. She can give this to him, do this for him.

Once they're outside, it shifts from her hand to her arm in his.

"Will tell me what it's like? Celebrations at Lallybroch, I mean."

Just that slight connection with his daughter means so much to him, and Jamie smiles as she reaches for his hand, then slips her arm into his. He parses through his memories to happier times, the good amidst the bad.

"Much dancing," he says immediately, with a soft smile. "Laughter. Oh, laughter was our music above all else. Games, and ale, and a bountiful feast." He hadn't laughed in many long years after Claire left, but it felt good to be amongst the joyful crowd, to imagine what their lives could have been.

"I have no idea how to dance like that," she admits. Based on what she saw in the holiday scene, anyway.

"Could you teach me?"

That surprises him, that she doesn't know, but there's also a slight thrill at knowing there's something he can teach her, even as grown as she is.

"Aye, lass. I'm verra happy to," he smiles, patting her hand for a moment. "Ye would've kent how to dance from a young age if ye'd grown up at Lallybroch."

There's a pang in her heart at that. Jamie would have taught her, probably. Her mother would have tied bows in her hair. She would have had cousins to run with.

But she'd had A Christmas Story with her parents. Cookies and hot chocolate and a letter to Santa clutched in her hand, only to be gone on Christmas morning with presents under the tree.

Was it all better or worse? She has no idea, not really, but she knows she can't dwell on it.

"Can mama dance? Because I've never seen her."

Jamie nods with a smile, caught in a memory for just a moment. "She's a fine dancer. Light on her feet. And I'm certainly the envy of every man in the room when they catch sight of her."

The look on his face when he just thinks of her mother is incredible, and Bree has to look at him in return. It makes her frown for just a second, but it's brief, fleeting, and she looks away, still holding Jamie's arm as they keep walking.

"Mama said there's usually a party at the end of the year, where everyone dresses up for New Year's."

"Aye. The Hogmanay," Jamie supplies with a brighter smile. Though he'd always wished to have Claire with him, that time never fully enjoyable without her. "Much of the festivities are similar to other celebrations, with an abundance of ale and good food. And more dancing," he smiles over at Brianna.

"But a bit of a unique highlander tradition for New Year's Day: we call it the saining, where we bless and protect our house, loved ones, and livestock for the coming year. From a river ford near Lallybroch, we collect magic water that's been touched by both the living and the dead. The water gets sprinkled on all of us, in every room, and on the beds. When we've finished wi' that, we seal up the house," he drags out his words just a bit for dramatic effect, a twinkle in his eyes as he explains and shares such a time-honored tradition with his daughter, "and burn juniper branches that we carry throughout every hall and room. When we nearly canna stand the smell of the juniper smoke any longer, we take our places at the windows and doors and fling them all open wide." He laughs a bit, just remembering the sound of laughter echoing through Lallybroch. "The cold, fresh air of a crisp day ushering in the new year fills the house. Then we all have a wee bit of whiskey and sit down for the morning breakfast."

He stops walking with her, standing in front of her now and resting his hands on her shoulders. "Bit of yer family history."

She can't help but be fascinated by the way he tells a story; he's great at it, like most Scots are, or so says her mother. By the time he's done she can almost see it, and she smiles at him.

Maybe she'll need to surprise him. She should, he deserves it.

"It sounds incredible. Usually, for us, there's a big countdown from ten to zero when the clock strikes midnight, and then we drink champagne to celebrate. Except mama's asleep on the couch by ten p.m.," Bree says with a smirk.

Jamie smirks a little in return, and their expressions are just so incredibly similar, his daughter bearing his features so strikingly. "A joyous time for the three of you, no doubt," he breathes out softly. "Yer mother told me there's a...poem by a Scotsman that was put to music? And there's a tradition of singing it to usher in the new year?"

Auld Lang Syne is what he's speaking of, but he can't remember the name, and it was past his time so he's not familiar with it.

"Oh, yeah, it's...I think most people don't even know all the words, but..."

Bree smiles and she's just shy enough that she can't face him directly, so she takes his arm again and sings the song. Her voice is clear and bright, as she moves through the poem, but singing instead of reciting. When she's done, her cheeks a little red but she shrugs a little.

"Something like that."

Edited 2018-12-17 00:56 (UTC)

When she's done, though, he takes her hand, kissing the back of it softly and then clinging to it with a look of sheer proud on his face. There may be tears glistening in his eyes as well, if she looks closely.

"I havena heard a more beautiful sound in all my life."

Bree looks up at him, and if she notices the tears, well, she doesn't say anything about them. She'd normally scoff, say it was nothing, but that doesn't seem right to do now.

"For a little while, I was in the choir at school. I loved looking out in the crowd and seeing mama right there. She used to sing with me, to help me practice."

"She loved verra little more than being yer mother. I know she was filled wi' love and pride everyday for you, Brianna," he smiles, squeezing her hand before letting go. "And ye both have fine voices. Finer than a choir of angels."

Hearing him talk about them both that way makes her smile, and she looks up at him. "I think for a little while I..."

Bree lets out a soft breath. "I blamed her for daddy's death," she admits, just walking with Jamie again. "I didn't know then, what I know now. She told him she couldn't...she wanted a divorce. And he told me, and then he died. All in the same night. So there was a while when I was so angry with her. And then Scotland happened, and it was worse."

Brianna looks up at Jamie again. "But it got better. It got better, and we're okay now. I'm not sure if she believes that, but we are."

His face softens at that; he'd known things had been difficult for a time, and he can't blame Brianna for what she felt. She'd lost her father and found out so much of her life had been a lie, all in a short span of time.

"There are times when our heart aches so, for people we've lost, for the life we once had when it made all the sense in the world. And we may speak wi' sharp tongues and careless words but it's only because we loved so strongly and our hearts have burst open wide. What ye say in those times, it doesna always make sense when you look back at it, and you know yer mind had no much input. But because we all love each other, we forgive," he tells her gently, squeezing her arm a bit. "And, I've found, the way you love someone after those times grows stronger, ye ken?"

"I know. And I hope she knows it, too."

She knows, from her lips, to Claire's ears. Brianna doubts there's very little they don't tell one another.

"So. You promised to teach me how to dance. I better learn soon in case Wonderland decides to throw a party of its own," she says with a smile.

"Aye, I did," he laughs softly, then glances around. They're outside, there's snow on the ground, and it's not exactly the most conducive environment for dancing. But they'll make do, if that's what his lass wants.

Taking one of her hands, he rests another hand at her hip, guiding her free hand to his shoulder so they're positioned correctly.

"Ye'll no be dancin' wi' any lads soon now, will ye?" He has to ask, but there's a teasing smirk on his lips. As he asks the question, he starts to lead her slowly, guiding her on the steps to take.

Even though there are no lads here as of yet that she's keen to dance with, she still blushes a little, ducking her head.

"No. No lads. I promise."

This is a surreal moment for her, to be dancing in his arms, and she looks up at him, smiling, though it's a little watery and then she clears her throat.

"It's been awkward, talking to people and always saying 'my mother's husband' or referring to you by your first name. It's been a lot easier to just call you my father."

Jamie is secretly glad for that, though if his daughter ever found someone she truly wished to pursue, he would fully support her. But for right now, after their conversation with Roger, he's content with the way things are, giving her a chance to just be with them.

When she speaks about calling him her father, though, his breath catches for a moment. "You do what feels right and easiest, mo chridhe. But I canna deny that I'm honored by the designation."

"You should have always had it," she points out quietly.

She's not sure how appropriate this is, certainly not with a lad, probably. But a safe gesture here, now. She rests her cheek against his chest, trying to imagine what it would have been like, this, at Lallybroch, an aunt and uncle, cousins. All of it. It doesn't hurt as much as it did, she doesn't feel like she's trying to replace Frank anymore, though it will take time for guilt to fully fade with each step she takes closer to Jamie.

"Our lives took turns we hadna expected. 'Tis not the life I wanted for any of us," he admits quietly, kissing the top of her head and keeping a protective hold on her. "But ye have two fathers who think the world of ye, Brianna. I'd say ye're a bit richer than most, aye?"