Brianna Fraser

She found Brianna sitting at the kitchen table while Jamie stood beside the window, staring outside. Neither had spoken for several minutes.

“What happened?” Claire asked immediately.

Jamie turned.

“She heard something near the creek.”

Claire set down her medical bag.

“What sort of thing?”

“A buzzing,” Brianna answered. “Then voices.”

Her mother looked at Jamie.

He gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

Claire slowly removed her cloak.

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

Brianna described the sound, the pain and the sudden vision. She told them about the stones and the woman she had seen beyond them.

She expected Claire to suggest exhaustion, hunger or an illness.

Instead, her mother sat down opposite her.

“What did the stones look like?”

“Tall. Grey. There were several of them, arranged in a circle.”

Claire’s hands tightened in her lap.

“Was there a split stone?”

“I don’t know. It happened too quickly.”

“And the woman?”

“I couldn’t see her face.”

“Did she speak?”

“Not exactly.”

“But you heard your name?”

Brianna nodded.

Claire looked towards Jamie.

A conversation passed silently between them.

Brianna had seen them do it many times before. A glance, a movement, a slight change in expression—and somehow they exchanged entire thoughts without speaking.

Normally, it amused her.

Tonight, it made her angry.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Claire reached across the table.

“Brianna—”

“No.”

She pulled her hand away.

“You both know something. Da has been strange since it happened, and now you are asking questions as though you already understand.”

“It is complicated,” Claire said.

“That is what adults say when they don’t intend to tell the truth.”

Jamie turned from the window.

“Mind how ye speak to your mother.”

“Then speak to me.”

His jaw tightened.

Brianna pushed back her chair and stood.

“I saw those stones. I heard them calling me. Either you believe me, or you think I have lost my mind.”

“No one thinks that,” Claire said quickly.

“Then what were they?”

Silence.

The fire cracked behind them.

Jamie lowered his gaze. Claire’s face held an expression Brianna could not identify. It was not merely fear.

It was memory.

Brianna felt suddenly cold.

“You have seen them,” she whispered.

Claire closed her eyes briefly.

“Yes.”

The single word seemed to change the room.

Brianna sat down again.

“Where?”

“Scotland.”

“Are they real?”

“Yes.”

“What do they do?”

Claire looked at Jamie once more.

This time, he nodded.

Her mother drew a long breath.

“They are a doorway.”

Brianna frowned.

“A doorway to where?”

Claire’s eyes met hers.

“Not where,” she said softly. “When.”

The fire continued to burn.

Outside, darkness settled over Fraser’s Ridge. The mountains disappeared into the night, and the forest became a single vast shadow.

Brianna stared at her mother, waiting for her to smile or explain that she had misunderstood.

Claire did neither.

“You mean time,” Brianna said.

“Yes.”

“That is impossible.”

“I once believed so.”

Jamie moved towards the table and stood beside Claire, resting one hand on her shoulder.

Brianna looked from one parent to the other.

Fragments of childhood memories began shifting into new shapes. Stories that ended too abruptly. Questions that had gone unanswered. Her mother’s unusual knowledge. The sorrow that sometimes appeared in Jamie’s eyes when Claire spoke of the future without seeming to notice.

“You went through them,” Brianna said.

Claire nodded.

“To the future?”

“I was born there.”

Brianna laughed once, but the sound held no humour.

“No.”

“It is the truth.”

“You were born in Scotland.”

“I was born in England in the year 1918.”

Brianna stared at her.

The world felt unsteady again, though the humming had not returned.

“That is more than a hundred and fifty years from now.”

“Yes.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“No,” Claire replied. “I expect it will take time.”

Brianna stood so quickly that the chair struck the floor behind her.

“You have lied to me.”

“We tried to protect ye,” Jamie said.

“From what?”

“From knowing that such a thing exists.”

“It knows I exist!”

Her voice cracked through the room.

No one answered.

Brianna pressed both hands against the table, trying to control her breathing.

All her life, she had wondered why she sometimes felt different. Why certain dreams seemed more like memories. Why places she had never visited appeared inside her mind with impossible clarity.

“Why did they call me?”

Claire’s expression filled with pain.

“I don’t know.”

“Can I travel through them?”

“We don’t know that either.”

“But you think it is possible.”

Claire hesitated.

“Yes.”

The answer frightened Brianna more than anything else had.

She stepped away from the table.

“I need air.”

Jamie moved to stop her.

“Let her go,” Claire said.

He looked at his wife.

“She will remain close,” Claire added, though her eyes stayed on Brianna. “Won’t you?”

Brianna nodded.

Claire was not waiting inside.

A small basket stood on the table with a folded note resting beside it. Jamie opened the paper.

“She has gone towards the creek,” he said. “Mrs Murray’s youngest has a fever.”

“Can we go to her?”

Jamie considered it.

“Your mother asked that ye gather willow bark and feverfew.”

Brianna took the basket.

“Then I’m going.”

“I will come.”

“She asked me.”

“She left the note for both of us.”

Brianna took it from him.

At the bottom, Claire had written:

Jamie, please see that she does not fall into the creek.

Brianna held up the note.

“She expects me to gather them.”

“She expects me to keep ye dry.”

“I won’t fall.”

“That remains to be seen.”

They left their hunting equipment inside and followed the narrow path behind the cabin. Brianna carried the basket over one arm while Jamie walked several paces behind her.

Willow bark was easy to find. Feverfew was more difficult at this time of year, but Claire had taught Brianna where it continued to grow in sheltered areas.

Near the creek, they found a small cluster beside a fallen tree.

Brianna crouched and carefully cut the stems.

“Not too much,” she murmured. “Leave enough for it to return.”

Jamie leaned against a tree.

“Your mother’s words?”

“Yes.”

“Ye sound very like her.”

“I thought you said I shouldn’t become someone else.”

“Sounding like your mother is no misfortune.”

Brianna placed the feverfew inside the basket.

A strange sound drifted between the trees.

She stopped.

It was faint at first, almost too faint to hear. A low vibration, similar to the hum of bees hidden within a distant hive.

Brianna turned her head.

“Do you hear that?”

Jamie straightened.

“Hear what?”

She listened.

The sound continued beneath the rushing water of the creek.

A humming.

No.

Not merely humming.

It seemed to rise and fall, almost like a voice attempting to form words.

“Bree?”

Jamie stepped closer.

She followed the sound with her eyes. It seemed to come from beyond the creek, deeper within a part of the forest where few settlers travelled.

“There’s something over there.”

Jamie looked towards the opposite bank.

“I see nothing.”

“I heard it.”

“What?”

Brianna struggled to describe it.

“A buzzing sound.”

“An insect, perhaps.”

“Not an insect.”

The humming suddenly grew louder.

Pain flashed behind her eyes.

Brianna gasped and dropped the basket.

“Brianna!”

Jamie caught her before she could fall.

The forest seemed to tilt around her. She clutched his coat, squeezing her eyes shut as the sound filled her skull.

It was not a single voice.

There were dozens.

Perhaps hundreds.

Whispers layered upon whispers, moving too quickly for her to understand. Yet beneath them all, one word became clear.

Her name.

Brianna.

She opened her eyes.

For one impossible moment, the forest was gone.

Grey stones rose around her, enormous and ancient, standing beneath a storm-darkened sky. Wind tore through her hair. Her hands were no longer gripping her father’s coat but reaching towards the tallest stone.

Someone stood beyond it.

A woman.

Her face was hidden in shadow, but Brianna felt the crushing certainty that the stranger was waiting for her.

Then the vision vanished.

She was beside the creek again.

Jamie knelt in the mud, holding her firmly by the shoulders.

“Look at me,” he said.

Brianna blinked.

“Da?”

“I’m here.”

His face was pale.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did ye strike your head?”

“No.”

“Can ye see clearly?”

“Yes.”

He placed the back of his hand against her forehead.

“No fever.”

“I heard someone.”

Jamie’s hand became still.

“Who?”

“She said my name.”

The colour drained further from his face.

Brianna noticed it immediately.

“You know what it was.”

“Nay.”

“You do.”

“Brianna—”

“You looked afraid.”

“I feared ye were ill.”

“That isn’t all.”

Jamie rose and pulled her gently to her feet.

“We are going home.”

“What about Mama’s plants?”

“I will gather them.”

“I’m fine now.”

“We are going home.”

His voice left no room for argument.

Brianna stared at him as he retrieved the basket. Jamie had been frightened many times on her behalf. When she was injured, when she wandered too far from the settlement, or when fever swept through the Ridge.

This was different.

He had not looked frightened because she might be ill.

Golden light fell between the trees and spilled across a wide stretch of grass. At the far end stood an old oak, its trunk scarred by storms and age.

Several round targets had been attached to it.

Brianna turned towards Jamie.

“You prepared this already.”

“Yesterday afternoon.”

“You knew Mama would allow me to come?”

“I had hope.”

“You mean you didn’t ask her until after you prepared everything.”

Jamie removed the musket from his shoulder.

“Hope, as I said.”

Brianna smiled despite herself.

He positioned her approximately twenty paces from the tree. The distance was greater than she usually practised from.

“This is too far.”

“It will be, if ye decide it is.”

Jamie took the bow from her and examined the string.

“Your hands will be cold. Warm them first.”

Brianna rubbed them together, then blew into her palms.

Jamie selected an arrow and held it out to her.

“Show me your stance.”

She placed her feet apart and raised the bow.

“Too rigid.”

Brianna relaxed her knees.

“Your shoulder.”

She lowered it.

“Your elbow.”

“I know.”

“Then why is it wrong?”

“Because you’re watching me.”

“A deer will watch ye too.”

“A deer doesn’t criticise everything I do.”

“No. It simply runs away.”

Brianna gave him an irritated look.

Jamie’s mouth twitched.

She turned towards the target and placed the arrow against the string. She breathed in, pulled back and tried to quiet her thoughts.

The bow trembled slightly beneath the strain.

“Do not fight it,” Jamie said.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I can feel you staring.”

“I am standing behind ye. How can ye feel my eyes?”

“They’re very loud.”

Jamie laughed.

Brianna released the string.

The arrow flew across the clearing and struck the outer edge of the wooden target.

She lowered the bow, disappointed.

“At least it hit.”

“Aye.”

“I was aiming for the centre.”

“I assumed so.”

“Could you pretend to be impressed?”

“I am impressed.”

“You don’t look impressed.”

Jamie walked towards the target and pulled out the arrow.

“The wind comes from the west,” he said. “Ye felt it against your cheek?”

“Yes.”

“But ye did not allow for it.”

He handed the arrow back.

“The target does not move. The world around it does.”

Brianna returned to her position.

She raised the bow again and felt the breeze. It moved softly from left to right, carrying the smell of pine needles.

She adjusted her aim.

This time, the arrow landed closer to the centre.

“Again,” Jamie said.

She shot until her fingers ached.

Some arrows struck the target. Others disappeared into the grass, forcing her to search for them while Jamie stood with his arms crossed, refusing to help.

“You lost them,” he said. “Ye find them.”

By the time they stopped to eat, Brianna’s shoulders burned and the tips of her fingers had turned red.

They sat beneath the oak tree with their backs against its trunk. Jamie divided the bread and cheese while Brianna examined the blisters beginning to form on her hand.

“Do not show those to your mother,” he said.

“She’ll see them.”

“She sees everything.”

“Then why shouldn’t I show her?”

“Because she will see them angrily.”

Brianna accepted a piece of bread.

“She’ll blame you.”

“Aye.”

“Isn’t it your fault?”

Jamie handed her the larger apple.

“I have reconsidered which one belongs to me.”

Brianna laughed and bit into it.

For a while, they ate in companionable silence.

Birdsong filled the clearing, and somewhere nearby, water moved over stones. Brianna tipped her head back against the oak and watched pale clouds drift across the blue sky.

“Tell me about Scotland,” she said.

Jamie looked towards her.

“What would ye hear?”

“Something you haven’t told me before.”

He considered this.

“When I was perhaps a year younger than you, I stole a horse.”

Brianna sat straighter.

“You stole it?”

“Borrowed.”

“Did the owner know?”

“Not at first.”

“Then you stole it.”

Jamie sighed.

“You have your mother’s troublesome devotion to exact language.”

“What happened?”

“The horse belonged to a man visiting Lallybroch. A proud beast, black as night, and ill-tempered enough to bite any hand that came near him.”

“And you decided to ride it?”

“I decided the horse merely required a person of suitable courage.”

“You mean a person foolish enough to try.”

“Aye, well. Courage and foolishness are cousins.”

“Did you fall?”

“Several times.”

Brianna grinned.

“Did Aunt Jenny see?”

“Unfortunately.”

“What did she do?”

“Encouraged the horse.”

Brianna nearly choked on her bread.

Jamie smiled at the memory.

“But eventually, the beast allowed me upon his back. I rode across the fields as though the Devil himself followed me. For one perfect minute, I believed I had conquered the world.”

“What happened after the minute?”

“The horse ran beneath a low branch.”

Brianna laughed so loudly that several birds fled from the nearby trees.

Jamie shook his head.

“I was unconscious when they carried me home.”

“What did Grandfather say?”

“He asked whether the horse was injured.”

“And was it?”

“Nay.”

“Then what happened to you?”

“I could not sit comfortably for a week.”

Brianna wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.

“You deserved it.”

“Most likely.”

She rested her head against the trunk again.

“Do you miss it?”

The humour faded from Jamie’s face.

“Scotland?”

“Yes.”

He looked across the clearing.

“Every day.”

“More than the Ridge?”

“Nay. Not more.”

He picked up a fallen leaf and turned it slowly between his fingers.

“A man may love the place where he was born and still build his heart elsewhere. Scotland made me. But this land gave me the chance to begin again.”

“And Mama?”

Jamie’s expression softened immediately.

“Your mother is my home, wherever we may be.”

Brianna considered the answer.

“Am I your home too?”

Jamie looked at her then, startled.

He placed the leaf aside and reached for her hand.

“Aye,” he said quietly. “Ye are.”

His thumb brushed across her knuckles.

“Never doubt it.”

Brianna squeezed his hand.

She did not know why she had asked. Perhaps because everyone on the Ridge seemed to carry memories of another home. Scotland. Ireland. England. France. Places spoken of with longing around fires at night.

Brianna had only ever known the mountains of North Carolina.

Thin smoke rose from the chimneys of several cabins, curling between the trees before disappearing. Frost covered the grass, and each step left a dark footprint behind them.

Jamie carried his musket over one shoulder. Brianna walked beside him, carefully keeping pace with his longer strides.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To the northern clearing.”

“That’s far.”

“Do ye wish to return home?”

“No.”

“Then it is not far.”

They passed the stable, where the horses greeted Jamie with quiet snorts. Brianna expected them to take two, but he continued towards the tree line.

“We’re walking?”

“If ye cannot reach a place upon your own feet, ye should not be hunting there.”

“I can reach it.”

“I ken.”

The trees swallowed them moments later.

Inside the forest, the air felt different. Colder, but softer. The branches above them shielded the earth from the growing light, and the ground was thick with fallen leaves. Brianna breathed in the scent of damp soil, moss and pine.

Her father moved almost silently.

Brianna tried to imitate him.

She avoided dry branches, placed her feet carefully and kept her skirt from catching against thorny bushes. Even so, every sound she made seemed painfully loud compared to Jamie’s steps.

After several minutes, he stopped.

Brianna nearly walked into his back.

“What is it?” she whispered.

Jamie pointed towards the ground.

At first, Brianna saw only dead leaves and mud. Then she noticed a shallow mark beside the roots of an oak tree.

“A hoofprint.”

“What kind?”

She crouched beside it.

“Deer.”

“How old?”

Brianna examined the edges. The mud had not yet dried, and a small amount of water had gathered in the deepest part.

“Recent.”

“How recent?”

She hesitated.

“Since last night?”

Jamie nodded. “Perhaps an hour or two before dawn.”

Brianna stood, pleased with herself.

“One animal?”

“Look again.”

She frowned and searched the surrounding earth.

Another print lay a short distance away. Then a smaller one.

“Two,” she said. “A mother and a young one.”

“Aye.”

“Are we hunting them?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“The young one is not yet large enough, and the mother will be needed come spring.”

Brianna glanced into the trees as though she might catch sight of them.

“Would you have hunted them if the young one wasn’t there?”

“If the settlement required the meat.”

Jamie continued walking, and Brianna hurried after him.

“Do you ever feel sorry for the animals?”

“Aye.”

She looked at him in surprise.

“Truly?”

“Taking a life should never become an easy thing.”

“But you’ve done it often.”

Jamie’s face changed almost too subtly to notice.

He looked ahead, towards something Brianna could not see.

“More often than I would have wished.”

She knew he was no longer speaking only of animals.

There were parts of her father’s life that came to her in fragments. Scotland. Culloden. Prison. France. Names that caused silence to fall over the dinner table when mentioned unexpectedly.

Jamie had told her stories of his childhood at Lallybroch. He spoke of his sister, Jenny, of racing horses through the Highlands and swimming in water so cold that it made his bones ache.

But there were other memories he kept behind locked doors.

Brianna did not ask about those.

Not today.

“Da?”

“Aye?”

“Do you think I could ever be as good a hunter as you?”

Jamie glanced down at her.

“No.”

Brianna stopped walking.

He continued for several paces before turning back.

“No?”

“Nay.”

Her cheeks grew warm.

“I can learn.”

“Aye.”

“You just said I couldn’t.”

“I said ye could not become a hunter like me.”

“What is the difference?”

Jamie stepped closer and tapped one finger against the centre of her forehead.

“Ye do not have my eyes.”

Brianna frowned.

“Mine work perfectly well.”

“Your eyes see things mine do not. Your mother has taught ye the names of plants I’ve walked past a thousand times without noticing. Ye see when someone is frightened, even when they try to hide it. Ye hear questions inside words that others accept without thought.”

He lowered his hand.

“Do not waste such gifts trying to become another person.”

Brianna stared at him.

“Then what should I become?”

“That,” Jamie said, “is what ye must discover.”

He turned and resumed walking.

Brianna followed more slowly.

She had expected him to tell her she would become a fine hunter. Perhaps even a better one than some of the men on the Ridge. Instead, he had given her an answer that felt both larger and far less satisfying.

What must I become?

Her mother wore a simple grey gown with her sleeves rolled to her elbows. Her dark curls were pinned up carelessly, and several loose strands framed her face. She was crushing dried leaves inside a small stone mortar, filling the room with a sharp, bitter scent.

“You’re awake early,” Claire said without looking up.

Brianna glanced towards Jamie, who was fastening his cloak by the door.

“He woke me.”

“I gathered that.”

Claire’s tone was calm, but Brianna knew her mother well enough to hear the concern beneath it.

“We shall not go far,” Jamie said.

“That is what you said the last time.”

“And we did not.”

“You returned after dark.”

“We were still upon the Ridge.”

“Technically.”

Jamie looked at Brianna as though hoping for assistance.

She suddenly found the wooden floorboards fascinating.

Claire set down the pestle and crossed the room. She adjusted the collar of Brianna’s jacket, then pulled the fabric more firmly around her neck.

“It’s colder than it looks,” she said. “And the ground may be slippery near the creek.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Your father says that too.”

“And I am always careful,” Jamie protested.

Claire turned towards him.

There was a short silence.

Jamie cleared his throat. “Most of the time.”

Claire sighed, although the corner of her mouth curved into a smile.

From the table, she lifted a cloth bundle and handed it to Brianna.

“Bread, cheese and two apples. One of them is for your father, provided he behaves.”

Jamie took the bundle from Brianna and inspected it.

“How am I to know which apple is mine?”

“The smaller one.”

“A cruel woman.”

“You married me willingly.”

“Aye. I was young and easily bewitched.”

Claire stepped closer to him.

“You still are.”

Brianna looked between them and groaned.

“Please stop.”

Jamie grinned.

Claire kissed his cheek before turning back to Brianna. She placed both hands on her daughter’s shoulders.

“Listen to your father. Stay where he can see you. And don’t eat any plants simply because you’ve seen me gathering them.”

“I did that once.”

“You were sick for half a day.”

“It looked like mint.”

“It did not.”

“It smelled like mint.”

“It smelled like stagnant pond water.”

Jamie opened the door.

“Come, Bree, before your mother begins listing every mistake we have ever made.”

“I would need considerably more time,” Claire replied.

Cold morning air swept into the cabin.

The Call of the Wild

Fraser’s Ridge, North Carolina — 1762

Brianna Fraser woke before the sun.

For several moments, she remained beneath the heavy woollen blanket, listening to the familiar sounds of the cabin. The faint crackling of dying embers came from the hearth downstairs. Wind pressed softly against the wooden shutters, making them tremble within their frames. Somewhere outside, one of the horses shifted restlessly inside the stable.

The Ridge was still asleep.

Brianna smiled into the darkness.

She had always loved Fraser’s Ridge at this hour. During the day, the settlement belonged to everyone. Hammers struck wood, children ran between the cabins, chickens scattered across the muddy paths, and voices carried from one homestead to another.

But before sunrise, the Ridge seemed to belong only to the forest.

And perhaps, Brianna sometimes thought, to her.

She pushed the blanket aside and immediately regretted it. The cold air slipped through her nightdress and wrapped itself around her bare arms.

“Christ,” she whispered, rubbing them briskly.

“Language.”

Brianna froze.

Jamie Fraser stood in the doorway, his broad shoulder resting against the frame. His red hair appeared almost black in the dim light, though a few silver strands had begun to show near his temples. He was fully dressed, with his boots laced and his hunting knife fastened at his belt.

There was a suspiciously amused expression on his face.

“You were not meant to hear that,” Brianna said.

“Aye, well. The Almighty apparently saw fit to give me ears.”

“You say worse things.”

“I’m a grown man.”

“That seems an unfair rule.”

“Most rules made by grown men are.”

Brianna sat up and narrowed her eyes at him.

“Does Mama know you said that?”

“Your mother knows a great many things about me,” Jamie replied solemnly. “Most of which I would prefer she did not.”

A laugh escaped Brianna before she could stop it.

Jamie entered the room and set something on the wooden chest at the foot of her bed. Brianna recognised the soft brown leather immediately.

Her quiver.

She threw back the blanket.

“Are we going now?”

“If ye can be dressed before the sun reaches the trees.”

“I can.”

“And quietly.”

“I can do that too.”

Jamie raised one eyebrow.

Brianna lowered her voice. “I can try.”

“That is perhaps a more honest answer.”

He turned towards the door but paused before leaving.

“Wear your heavier stockings. There was frost on the ground.”

“Da?”

He glanced back.

“Thank you.”

His expression softened.

“A promise is a promise, a leannan.”

After he had gone, Brianna dressed faster than she ever had before.

She pulled on a linen shift, woollen stockings and her dark blue skirt. Over it, she wore an old brown jacket that had once belonged to one of the boys on the Ridge. Her mother disliked it because the sleeves had been repaired three times and one button did not match the others.

Brianna loved it for precisely those reasons.

She braided her long blonde hair over one shoulder, though several strands had already escaped before she finished tying it. Then she fastened her quiver across her back and lifted the bow Jamie had made for her the previous winter.

It was smaller than his hunting bow but no less beautiful. The wood had been carefully smoothed, and a tiny thistle had been carved near the grip.

Brianna ran her thumb across it.

A piece of Scotland, her father had told her.

Full Name: Brianna Ellen Fraser

Nickname(s): Bree, Bri

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Straight

Birth Year: 1748

Birthplace: Fraser's Ridge, North Carolina

Biological parents: Claire Fraser & Jamie Fraser

Clan: Clan Fraser

Bloodline: Fraser Family

Nationality: Scottish-American

Residence: Fraser's Ridge

Occupation: To be discovered throughout her journey

Marital Status: Open

Children: None

Known as

"The Daughter of Claire and Jamie Fraser."

"The Next Generation of the Fraser Legacy."

Skills & Abilities

🏹 Brianna is highly skilled with a bow and arrow, a talent she learned from her father, Jamie Fraser.

🐎 Horsemanship — An experienced rider who feels most at home in the saddle.

🌿 Herbal Medicine — Knowledge of medicinal herbs and remedies taught by Claire Fraser.

🧭Navigation — Excellent sense of direction and map reading skills.

🌲Survival Skills — Able to live off the land and adapt to difficult situations.

👣Tracking — Can follow trails and read signs in the wilderness.

⚔️ Self-Defense — Trained to protect herself and those she loves.

Personality

Brianna Fraser possesses the compassionate heart of her mother, Claire Fraser, and the fierce determination of her father, Jamie Fraser.

She is kind, loyal, and deeply protective of the people she loves. While she often puts others before herself, she is not afraid to stand her ground when something threatens her family or beliefs.

Brianna is known for her courage and resilience. Even during difficult times, she refuses to give up and always searches for hope in the darkness.

Though she appears strong on the outside, she carries a sensitive soul and feels emotions deeply. She values honesty, loyalty, and genuine connections above all else.

Curious by nature, Brianna has a thirst for knowledge and adventure. She often finds herself drawn to mysteries, old legends, and the unknown paths that others are too afraid to follow.

Like her father, she can be stubborn and strong-willed, especially when she believes she is doing the right thing. Like her mother, she possesses empathy and a natural desire to help those in need.

Above all, Brianna believes that love, family, and courage are the greatest strengths a person can possess.

✯Strengths

✯Loyal

✯Compassionate

✯Courageous

✯Intelligent

✯Determined

✯Protective

✯Honest

✯Resilient

✯Adventurous

✯Weaknesses

✯Stubborn

✯Overprotective

✯Finds it difficult to ask for help

Takes responsibility for others' problems

Can be impulsive when emotions take over

Holds onto pain longer than she admits

Greatest Fear

Losing the people she loves and failing to protect those who depend on her.

Greatest Dream

To build a life filled with love, adventure, and purpose while honoring the Fraser legacy.

She carries the heart of Claire Fraser and the spirit of Jamie Fraser.

Relationship with the Stones

Since childhood, Brianna has felt an unexplainable connection to the standing stones.

Whenever she stands near them, she experiences a strange sense of familiarity, as though they are calling to her from somewhere beyond time itself.

At times, she hears faint whispers carried by the wind. Other times, she feels a pull deep within her soul—one she cannot understand and has never been able to ignore.

Unlike her mother, Brianna knows little about the true power hidden within the stones. Yet she cannot deny that something connects her to them.

Whether it is destiny, blood, or something far older, she does not know.

What she does know is that the stones seem to recognize her.

"

And perhaps, one day, they will reveal why.

Mysteries

• Why do the stones seem to call her name?

• What connection does she share with them?

• Is her destiny tied to time itself?

• What secrets are waiting to be uncovered?

"Some doors are not meant to be opened... and yet, some are impossible to ignore."