#outlander ff

Cue the titanic lady saying it’s been 87 years, but I’ve finally written some more of The Gloaming (my Outlander X Jane Eyre fic) and will be posting a new chapter today.

UPDATED 8/22/20

A canon divergent AU set at the very end of season 2.

Instead of letting Jamie take her back to the stones, Claire insists on accompanying Fergus back to Lallybroch. Though Claire promises Jamie that she'll go through the stones once she knows Fergus is safe with Jenny and Ian, she finds that she can't bring herself to do it, even if it means going back on her last promise to her husband.

Read the first six chapters on AO3:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

So, here we go. My first fanfic. After watching “To All the Boys I Loved Before” I knew it had to be an Outlander AU. I just never thought I would be the one writing it. Thank you so much to @bonniebird17 for pushing me to do this, being my editor, and my sounding board!

I hope you like it!

Prologue

That unbelievable heartwarming feeling you get when you see someone you really like. Butterflies, sweating hands and your heart beating so fast, you are afraid you are going to faint.

We have all been in love, maybe just once, Claire on the other half have been in love four times.

Her first love was when she was in Year 8, Frank Randall. She met him at a Model United Nations conference. He was the United Kingdom and she was Sweden. He was intelligent and polite, more mature than any other boy she met. She fell instantly.

Claire wrote her first letter that night. They never talked again after the conference was over but he was her first love, or what she thought was love at the time.

Then there was John Grey, Claire wrote his letter the night after the school dance. Normally she wouldn’t go to a school dance but her sister, Gail, forced her to go telling her she would regret it if she didn’t go. Her best friend Geillis left her to dance with Rupert, leaving Claire bored and wanting to go home. John walked up to her and asked her to dance, the first boy to ever do so. They spent the rest of the night laughing and genuinely having a great time. She thanked Gail for making her go to the dance when she got home that night and John’s letter was placed with the one she wrote to Frank.

Her next letter was, well, complicated to say the least. The letter was to Joe Abernathy. They had known each other since they were babies. Their moms were best friends and they grew up next door to each other. She could talk to him about anything and everything and they were always there for each other. But when Joe started dating Gail, her sister, Claire realized that her feelings towards her best friend were more than just friendly. Gail and Joe became a couple but they still didn’t want her to feel left out or feel like things were changing so the 3 of them would hang out all the time. What they didn’t know was that it broke her heart to see them together.

Claire wrote the letter to let out her feelings and to hopefully move on. And it worked. The release of those feelings let her move on and she finally felt free of those emotions she had felt for so long.

Her last letter was to Jamie Fraser, the team captain of the Rugby team. Claire wrote his letter when she got home from her first party. Her friend at the time, Geneva Dunsany, forced her to go to the party because Geneva’s crush Jamie was there. Geneva came up with the idea to play Spin the Bottle in hopes of getting to kiss Jamie. But when it was Claire’s turn to spin the bottle, it landed on none other than Jamie Fraser. She tried to get out of kissing him but when he took her face in his hands she just couldn’t help it. The kiss was short and sweet but the butterflies in her stomach and the tingling on her lips lasted the rest of the night. He was her first kiss.

As always, all the love and thanks in the world go to @katnoenau! 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Claire didn’t let go of Jamie’s hand the entire walk back to his hotel. She told herself that she continued holding on because she was unsure of where they were going. But deep down she knew that she was also enjoying the sense of security that she felt with her hand enclosed in his. Afraid to think about what she would have done had he not invited her to stay with him, Claire remained silent as they entered the lobby and headed towards the elevator.

Swiping the key, Jamie placed his hand on the small of her back as he ushered her into the room. As they made their way in, Jamie grabbed her bag and set it beside her bed.

“‘Tis no much, but at least ye’ll have a bed.”

“Thank you,” she replied, her voice thick with exhaustion.

“Take a moment to settle yerself, Sassenach. I’ll just go fetch some extra towels.” Jamie made his exit, leaving Claire to herself.

Reaching for her bag beside the queen-sized bed, she gathered a few articles of clothing to change into. Sinking onto the duvet she placed her head in her hands, letting out a long sigh. The day had been a rollercoaster ride of emotions. It started with being elated at the thought of her anniversary, then the shock of betrayal, confusion in deciding what to do next, and ending with what she believed to be friendship and honesty found in Jamie. Taking stock of her surroundings, she smiled at the thought of him. This man had done more for her in the few hours since their meeting than Frank had done in the last months of their relationship. Not entirely sure where this newfound friendship would take her, she was thankful that she had met him. As exhaustion began to take over, she began to ready herself for bed, wanting nothing more than to burrow deep into the comfort of the bedding. And with the thoughts of a large, red-haired Scot swimming through her mind, Claire closed her eyes and let herself surrender into oblivion.

Several minutes later, Jamie returned to the room with clean towels in hand. Quietly he deposited them in the bathroom, noticing that Claire was already asleep. He couldn’t help himself as he watched the rise and fall of her form under the blankets, dark curls spread across the pillow. He didn’t understand why, but he felt an overwhelming need to protect her. Hearing about her day and the things that had transpired only aided to increase his concern. He was only going to be in town for another week. What would happen to her when he left? Knowing full well he wasn’t going to solve all her problems right then, he resigned himself to getting ready for sleep. Turning off the bedside lamp, he settled himself into his own bed, laying on his side so that he was facing Claire.

*

Claire had remained asleep in the same position all through the night and well in to the next afternoon, causing Jamie to repeatedly check to ensure she was still breathing. He had been awake for hours, quietly pouring over ledgers, not wanting to disturb her slumber. Clearly the lass had needed the rest.

It was nearly dinner time when she started to stir. Slowly opening her eyes, she struggled to make sense of her surroundings. She shot up, wrapping the blankets around her body in an effort to protect herself from the unknown place she found herself. Unruly curls bouncing in a cloud around her head. Eyes focusing, she noticed a figure in the corner of the room, sitting quietly and staring at her.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” she exclaimed, clutching her chest, willing her heart to remain in place.

“Good mornin’ to ye as well, Sassenach,” the figure chuckled. “Did ye sleep well?”

Unwrapping herself from the cocoon of bedding, Claire offered him a weak smile. Not taking her eyes from Jamie, she could see that he was concerned for her. The support and friendship that she found staring back at her was almost too much for her to take. With her mind still reeling over the events of the last twenty-four hours, she didn’t trust herself enough to speak. Without warning, a wave of emotion overtook her. It was as if every feeling she had been pushing down had finally found its way to the surface.

Jamie wasted no time making his way from his seat at the small table to her side. Gently reaching a hand around her delicate frame, he pulled her into his embrace, where she buried her face in his chest. It broke his heart to see her in such distress. He wanted nothing more than to erase it all, to replace the tears with her beautiful smile.

Claire wasn’t sure what it was about Jamie that made her walls come down. Walls that she didn’t even know she had built up over the years with Frank. She would never have broken down like this in front of him. There was definitely something different in her newfound friendship with this red-headed Scot. Even as vulnerable as she was, bearing her weakness to him, she felt whole. His presence giving her a strength she had never experienced before. He gave her the confidence to pour out her heart, let all the pieces scatter to the floor, knowing full well that he would not judge, but be there to help her pick up and reassemble the pieces.

She stayed in the safety of his embrace until the sobs subsided and her breathing evened itself out.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she apologized, shifting in his arms in order to look at him as she wiped at her tear stained face.

“Dinna fash. Let it out. No one will hurt ye now. I’m here,” he stated as his hand continued to make small circles across her back to calm her.

“Ye must be hungry. Would ye care to join me for a wee bite?”

“Can we just stay here?” She questioned him with pleading eyes. “I don’t really feel like going out.”

“Aye,” he replied as he handed her the room service menu from the nightstand. “Order whatever ye like. We can order in, rent a movie, make a night of it.”

Claire took the menu, offering Jamie a sheepish grin in response. He was right, she wasn’t only hungry, but starving. She couldn’t remember the last time she did eat, other than the coffee and whisky they had shared the night before. Unable to decide what she wanted, Claire handed the menu back to Jamie.

“You pick the food, I’ll pick the movie,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Deal. Burgers and fries it is.” He made his way to the phone, throwing the remote in her direction. “Pick us a good one, aye?”

Jamie placed their dinner order while Claire flipped through the on-demand options. Definitely not in the mood for anything romantic, she settled for one with a lot of action. It was precisely the type of film that she would have wanted to see in the theater, but Frank would have scoffed at. A perfect movie for her to watch with Jamie. Looking over to him for confirmation that he agreed with her movie choice, he shot her a thumbs up as he finished speaking with the front desk. Placing the phone back on its cradle, he rejoined Claire on the bed.

“Dinner will be here in twenty minutes,” he reached over and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Why don’t ye get yerself cleaned up. I’ll keep an eye out for the food, and we can start the movie once it arrives, eh?”

Claire nodded in agreement, and leaned in to give Jamie a hug. She wasn’t sure that she was ever going to be able to repay him for all that he had done. His hospitality and concern for her was more than she could have ever imagined. Grabbing her bag, she made her way to the bathroom. The thoughts of a hot shower flooded her mind, and she was grateful that Jamie had suggested it. Letting the water cascade over her shoulders, Claire could feel the tension she had been carrying release as if being washed away and down the drain. It was time to shed the past and start thinking of all the possibilities this new life in front of her offered. For the first time in a long time, Claire wasn’t tied down. She could do anything and everything she wanted. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? What did she want? She knew it would take some time to figure it out.

Emerging from the bathroom twenty minutes later, Claire was ready to tackle dinner. Relieved to see the food had arrived, she noticed Jamie had set up a picnic for the two of them on the bed. He smiled and patted the bed beside him, inviting her to join him.

It didn’t take long for the food to be devoured, and the two made themselves comfortable on the bed, trying to give the movie their full attention. When they thought the other wasn’t looking, they would cast side glances at each other, smirking when they were inevitably caught in the act. And as if magnets were drawing them together, they slowly closed the gap between them.

Set in The Fiery Cross Timeline, if you haven’t read it, mild spoilers. Not that it will likely stop you, but I did give you the warning.

A/N: My left hand regrets me doing this, me on the other hand, not so much. Also, lub-dub is how scientists and doctors explain the sound of a beating heart. (It will make sense at the end of the fic, promise!) 

PS: @missclairebelle thank you for reenforcing that this was not a stupid fic in my THICK SKULL.

PPS: @kkruml thank you for finishing my half finished sentences and when my words don’t make sense knowing EXACTLY what I am trying to convey and being able to fix my crap. My fics wouldn’t exist without you and I don’t have the words to express my gratitude every time you take time out of your day to help me.

I felt Jamie’s arm around my waist as he pulled me closer towards him, the fire adding an extra glow of red to his already auburn filled face. He took a swig from the flask and passed it to me.

“Here- have some Sassenach, it’ll warm ye.” He said as I took a small sip.

“There are reasons I love you…. Keeping whisky nearby might be at the top of the list, though.” I laughed as I rested my head on his chest.

My eyes flickered to the other side of the fire as I watched Bree pass Jemmy off to Marsali. Roger took her hand and led them just past where the groups were. It was dark, but thanks to the multiple fires and a full moon, I could see them just off in the distance. I felt Jamie’s eyes on me before shifting over in the direction of the newlyweds.

My heart swelled as Roger bowed before Bree as he took her hands, and pulled her to his chest. They danced to the beat of their own rhythm, two souls sharing a single moment as one.

I took my hand off Jamie’s waist, wiping a tear as it fell from my face.

“Are ye alright Sassenach, I see what the two of them are doin’ over there, but I canna say I understand it.”

I laughed as I sat upright, turning towards my husband.

“Remember, they come from a different time.” I said softly as I placed my right hand on his cheek. “It is something that happens at every wedding during that time. It’s the bride and grooms first dance, it usually happens at the reception.”

“Reception?” He asked with an incredulous look his face

“Yes. Weddings in the twentieth century are a fairly big ordeal. Usually it’s a full day. There’s the ceremony at the church and then a reception that follows shortly after. It’s filled with dinner, drinks, family, friends… And a first dance, just like they’re doing over there.”  I said, nuzzling my head into his shoulder once more.

“Did ye…. Did ye have a wedding like that the first time around?”

His words sent chills down my spine causing me to hitch my breath and straighten my back a bit. Jamie twitched at this, wrapping his arms tighter around me.I took another sip of the whisky, as I handed it up to him. I took a few breaths as I watched our daughter and new son in law dance under the moonlight, trying to erase the thoughts of my first marriage.

“No.” I said, finally, as Roger spun Bree out and twirled her, then bringing her back close to his chest. “Frank and I. It was done quickly. Right before the war, we went to city hall and had it done so things were just legally set into place. That was it.” I was pulled back to the quick five-minute ceremony at the courthouse. I thought I had been so sure then – but now, sitting in Jamie’s arms, that memory felt like a whole other life, a whole other Claire. Which it was, but still—without that marriage, I wouldn’t be where I was today.

He was quiet for a minute and I could hear his heartbeat as it picked up in its pace. “But… Our wedding, was it much more like what it is… during her time?”

I smiled at the memory– a highlander in full regalia, my highlander– my husband. I had not wanted him then, but oh how things had changed.  I needed him now like the air that filled my lungs.

“Yes, from what I recall…. It was.” I sat myself up right again, kissing him slowly. Reminding him of all those times I had since that night, chosen him, and how it would always be him.

“Ye were massively hungover from what I remember.” I looked up at him, giving him my side eye glance as he did his best attempt at a wink. It was more like a long drawn out blink—his inability to wink might just be his only flaw.

“Yes… And you looked great in a kilt then, but even better now. They say that wine ages better with time, I would say the same goes for Scottish Highlanders.” I said quietly as I placed my hand on his cheek. I could feel the slight rise in his body temperature as I had most likely just caused him to blush.

“Well, I’m glad the lass can hold onto some traditions from her time. I willna lie, I missed a lot so I am glad I got to be here for this.” Jamie said as he kissed me softly once more.

Later that night, with all the people retired for the evening, I glanced around “our spot” in search of Jamie. I didn’t see him, and wanted to go to sleep with him, knowing he’d keep me warm.

I slid out of my dress and just into my shift and used one of his cloak’s as I wrapped it around my body. I pulled my hair down, running my fingers through it, allowing the curls to over come the top of my head. I was more than ready to shed the layers of clothing from the day and just be held by my husband, as we were finally able to get a good night of sleep.

Jamie still hadn’t returned, so I put my shoes back on, making my way to the one remaining fire that was still going - dwindling in size but still roaring enough I could see it.

“There you are.” I said in relief, as I wrapped my arms around his back. His hands were like ice and I used the cloak to wrap them up in my grasp.

“Aye, I’m sorry, Sassenach. I wasna all that ready to go to sleep just yet.” He replied as he intertwined our fingers together.

“A penny for your thoughts?” I mused, smiling into his back.

“I was just, thinkin’ o’er what ye said today, about Bree’s time and weddings. Do ye think she’ll mind the way it happened. I imagine she spent a long time dreaming of what it would be and, weel, that probably was not how she imagined it.” Jamie said. I could hear the worry in his tone.

I placed a small kiss to his back and walked around to face him, cupping his face between both my hands.

“You listen to me, James Fraser. She is very glad she is here, or she would not have done it. No, it’s not how she imagined it would have happened- or me- for all it matters. But, there’s nothing greater than sharing that type of event with your family. I for one, like you said earlier, with all that you were not able to be there for, am sure glad you were here for that. Don’t you go doubting her choices or mine. We will always choose you.”

“But if it werena for me, she would have had the church, the reception, all her friends there….”

“Jamie.” I said incredulously. “Did you know that there’s a father daughter dance that happens at the reception too? Frank wouldn’t have been there for that, so she would have had to deal with that loss. But you’re here.” I said as I patted right over his heart. “You got to give your permission for her to marry Roger. That, my love, is a big deal as well. She was so, very, pleased with having you here. I promise you.”

He kissed me slowly, softly, and thoroughly, just like he had on our wedding day. As he pulled away, I smiled as he pushed a curl out of my face.

“Claire, Will ye…. Will ye dance with me? I dinna know how they dance in the time that yer from, but I would love to give ye the honor of our first wedding dance.”

A confused look ran across my face as I took stock of what he was saying, and then the tears filled my eyes as the romantic gesture registered in my mind. Jamie loved me— that I knew with every fiber in my being, however, he was not an overtly romantic man by many facets and that question completely threw me off guard.

“I… Uh, yes. Of course, Jamie.” I stammered, my voice fierce with determination.

“Ye will have to show me.”

“Always.” I said as I took a step closer to his body. “Here,” I started as I wrapped his arms around my waist. “You hold me like that, I will place my head on your chest, and then we sway slowly, from side to side.”

“But do ye need music?”

“You can, if you’d like, but not all the time. I can hear the sound of your heart through your chest and if you ask me, that’s music to my ears, always will be. It’s my favorite tune.”

I heard a small Scottish grunt escape from his throat, as he pulled me even closer, and started to sway me slowly, from side to side as we reveled in our first dance underneath a full moon and a night full of stars.

What? Two chapters in 24 hours?! Just for you guys! :)

Find all chapters here!

Chapter 4: Si Delapsa Ero Resurgam

           Jamie entered the damp brig, the torch lights throwing shadows against the wooden walls. He peeked through the bars that held her. She was dirty, her face and hands smeared with black smudges. The clean areas of her skin, though, stood out brightly against the darkness, pale as the moon. She lounged languidly on the hanging bench, speaking softly her herself. Her hands were tied in front of her. She paid no mind to him; many of the men had come to see her in the past hour. He was no different.

           She spoke then, soft enough that he didn’t hear. He turned to her then. She stared straight at him when she said this, her hawk eyes making him feel quite like a mouse.

           “I’m sorry? I didna quite catch that lass.”

           “I’m not a lass.” Her voice was clear and clipped. English lady, indeed. “I’d wager I’m older than you, kit.”

           “Kit?”

           “Yes, tis a name for a baby fox. It fits you, I think.” She was taunting him; a small grin curving her lips, pulling at the scar on her cheek. He would not give her the satisfaction of his irritation, though.

           “My name is Jamie.”

           “Red Jamie, are you?” With this, she sat up and her eyes grew wide, enhancing her owlish appearance.

           “No, ye must be mistaken. I didna ken who that is,” Jamie answered sincerely.

           “It’s you! ‘Red are the curls atop his head. Red is the cloth that cloaks his body,” she gestured to his dark red vest. “’And red is the blood of his enemies spilled.’ That sounds a bit like you, no?”

           “Nay. Not me.”

           “If you say so,” she said, lying back on the bench. Jamie didn’t admit it to her, but it did sound like him. Was he really a famed pirate and didn’t know about it? He hoped not. It would just make it that harder to disappear without a trace, and go home…

           The boards above them creaked with the weight of a man. Someone was coming.

           He saw Dougal’s black boots before he saw the rest of him. He strolled over the cell, taking a seat next to Jamie.

           “How’s our prisoner, lad?” He spoke to Jamie, but his eyes were fixed on the woman. ‘La Dame Blanche.’ She scoffed, rolling her eyes to toward the ceiling. “What? Are ye no our prisoner? Are ye no tied up in our brig?” His eyes grew dangerous, the light gray turning stormy. Dougal had a temper, serious and harsh. The men knew not to cross him on such occasions.

           However, he took a deep breath, steadying himself, and rearranged his face into his merciful captain mask.

           “I didna want to argue with ye, lass. Just talk. Yer name is Claire, aye?” But Claire was a warrior, and didn’t mind fighting fire with fire.

           “I’m sorry. You’ve taken me at a disadvantage. I’m afraid I don’t know who you are…” Jamie saw Dougal’s neck turn red: he was holding his anger at bay. If this woman was who they thought she was, she was a valuable asset and could not be touched. Even if she was a pain in the arse.

           “Captain Dougal Mackenzie, ma’am,” Dougal answered with barely contained frustration.

           “Claire Beauchamp, sir.”

           “Well, Ms. Beauchamp. How did you come to find yourself on The Thistle?”

           “I snuck on.” Dougal rolled his eyes.

           “Aye, I ken that fine. When?”

           “Yesterday. When you fought that other ship.”

           “Why?”

           “I was floating out at sea. Figured I’d have a better chance here than out there.”

           “And are ye La Dame Blanche?” The root of the issue made its appearance.

           “Does it matter? You’ll believe as you do. You’ll do with me as you wish.” She closed her eyes hard, as if she could will the men away.

           “Are ye?” Dougal asked, more forcefully this time. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Claire took a deep breath, and squeezed her eyes shut further.

           “I am who you say I am,” she barely whispered. Jamie could see that her energy was drained: physically, emotionally, mentally. But either Dougal didn’t notice or didn’t care.

           “Is it true that ye forced Frank Randall to murder his own brother?” Her lips twitched at that.

           “A man had free will. I can force no one to do something they do not wish. Frank murdered Jack, because Jack was a monster. Kin or not.”

           “And where is your Frank now?” But she merely shrugged her shoulders. “Are ye a witch?”

           “No.”

           “A spirit?”

           “No.”

           “I dinna believe ye.”

           “I figured you wouldn’t.” Jamie watched their exchange with fascination, and a little sympathy. For who, though, he wasn’t sure. He saw Dougal steel his shoulders, mind made up.

           “Come morning, ye’ll work with the crew, help us reach Port Royal. I’ll decide what to do wi’ ye after that.” And with a swish of his coat, he stood up and left the brig, marching only as a captain does.

           Claire’s eyes followed him until he disappeared through the door. Then, she closed her eyes again, tired. Jamie decided to take his leave, but before walked out the door, he heard her voice, clear as the sea.

           “Si delapsa ero resurgam.”

The Gloaming

An Outlander / Jane Eyre crossover fic

Catch up on chapters 1-10 here

Chapter 11: The Apothecary

Mucking out the stalls one morning after Fergus’ riding lesson, sweat ran in rivulets down Jamie’s back. It wasn’t that the weather was particularly warm — summertime on Shetland certainly wasn’t known for its heat — but the vigour with which he worked saw his jacket discarded and sleeves rolled up to the elbow within a quarter of an hour. As much as Jamie enjoyed even the more manual aspects of his job, the reason for his exertion was less to do with dedication to his employment and more to keep himself from thinking. Specifically to keep from thinking about Claire.

Lately his mind had been filled with anything and everything to do with her. The shade of her hair when struck by the evening sun, the glint in her eye when she told stories of her escapades masquerading as Madame Beauchamp, the soft skin of her décolleté that he longed to trail his mouth across. The ever increasing time spent together certainly hadn’t been helping matters, the easy familiarity of their interactions encouraging the flickering flame of hope that his feelings might be reciprocated. Shoving his pitchfork into another pile of mud and manure filled straw, he tried to escape where his mind was taking him, knowing the thoughts that were about to follow would be the same as always.

You’re not enough for her. You’ll never be enough.

As grateful as Jamie was for all the he’d been provided with since coming to Wolverton Hall, he’d slowly come to realise that without to ability to be true to himself, much less Claire, it was no real life. He loved her and as fervently as he willed it to be otherwise, he was no longer content to exist on the periphery. He wanted to marry Claire, to be a proper father to Fergus and to build a family with them, but with nothing to his name it was a laughable notion. With a frustrated grunt, he hurled the pitchfork to the ground, the metal prongs hitting the stone pavers with an almighty clang. His eyes screwed closed and breathing heavily, he finally gave voice to the answer he’d been dreading.

If I can't be with Claire, then I can't be where she is.

He needed to leave Shetland.

Jamie rubbed his chest with the heel of his hand, heart aching with a pain as real as any he’d received from the lash at the workhouse. He didn’t belong here. Better gather his things and go soon he reasoned, no sense in prolonging the inevitable and only making it harder.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

Summary:  No matter where they are, the twelfth of May-the day of Faith's birth and death-is always a difficult day for Jamie and Claire.