Chapter Text
The wind blew across the field, making Claire’s unruly curls fly over her face, momentarily blocking her vision. She had been sitting under her favourite tree all afternoon, the same tree she often had dreams of. In her dreams, she saw a beautiful woman smiling down at her, brown hair cascading down her shoulders and tickling her skin. Claire remembered a young man too, he must have been her Father, Henry.
Claire knew that in these dreams, these people smiling down at her were her parents but she could barely remember them. They had died when she was very young, on their way to visit Claire’s Uncle Lamb when they were caught in a terrible storm, their carriage had run into a fallen tree and turned over several times, crashing down the side of a mountain.
She had been with her Uncle Lamb ever since. He often told stories of her parents when she asked him to. Claire never wanted to forget where she came from, who she was.
Claire tucked her legs against her chest and folded her arms around her knees. She didn’t want to go back to the house just yet. Soon her Uncle would come looking for her, to bring her back to reality. The reality that her Uncle, her guardian, her only family… was getting married.
Quentin Lambert Beuchamp, her Father’s brother, was a passionate man. He enjoyed digging things up in the ground, discovering their origins and the history surrounding those objects. His day to day life was as a Merchant, selling those artefacts he found from town to town, often leaving Claire to herself.
Claire didn’t mind being on her own, in fact she preferred it. They lived in a quaint house that was plenty big enough. It was the house that she was born in, her Uncle had moved in when he became her guardian. They had a small garden and collection of animals like chickens, one cow, two goats and two very lovely horses.
But Claire’s favourites were the little mice that ran throughout the house. Most people would think mice simply vermin but Claire had grown to think of them as friends, as odd as it sounded.
Animals were her first love, if you treated them with kindness then they reciprocated in turn. Her uncle was marrying someone that on first impression she saw no trace of kindness in. Jonathan Wolverton Randall was his name. She always knew that her uncle had an eye for the lads but never thought he would marry a man. Claire had no objections of course but this man… there was something quite off about him. Not to mention his children that came along from his first marriage, the twins.
Laoghaire and Alex Randall, the two most annoying and self-possessed humans to ever walk this earth. Claire had just celebrated her twentieth birthday, she was finally not in those awkward teenage years. Laoghaire and Alex were just seventeen, obnoxious teenagers indeed.
“Bloody children that’s what they are.” Claire’s first meeting with the twins was not altogether a pleasant one. They had stepped out of the carriage both wearing the most vile and obscene pieces of clothing Claire had ever seen. She put on her brave face and greeted them, welcoming them into her home.
They tossed their bags at her feet, assuming she was the maid. She had stared down at the bags and when she didn’t pick them up, Laoghaire turned on her, “Ye better pick up those bags lass or my daddy will have ye out of this house, lookin’ for somewhere else to work.” Her eyes were wicked, her tongue most foul, and Claire didn’t like her one bit.
“I’m not the maid… I’m Claire, your new sister.” She had stuck out her hand in greeting but Laoghaire and Alex turned to each other and burst out laughing.
“This girl? Our sister?!” More laughing and Claire had begun to grow frustrated and a bit embarrassed.
“Well your outfit…” Alex looked her up and down, taking in Claire’s simply frock made of pale blue linen. “Is atrocious, no wonder you mistook her for a maid!” He laughed to Laoghaire and turned back to Claire, “As long as ye’re dressed like a maid, ye best pick up our bags and take them inside.”
Claire had treated everyone with kindness and in return she received the same. It wasn’t in her nature to be feeling what she felt know, hatred.
How could she live in that house and put up with those two? Not to mention her new step-uncle. Jonathan Randall was a man of few words, he was British, like her and her uncle, an officer of the King and apparently quite the charmer.
Her uncle did look happy, that was what mattered right?
Just as she suspected she saw her uncle walking to where she was. He didn’t say anything as he approached her but sat down beside her, sighing as his joints popped and cracked on the descent.
“Ah Claire, my sweet Claire.” She rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his elbow.
“I know you’ll grow to like them, first impressions aren’t always correct.” In this case Claire wasn’t too sure about her impressions of them changing anytime soon.
Claire looked up at her uncle then, “I love you, you know that. You always told me that my mother was the kindest woman you had ever met.”
“Yes she was. And she gave that same kindness to you my dear.” He placed his finger under her trembling chin. “Don’t worry my child, I know that this is difficult for you. Having it just been the two of us for so long now. But I do think it will be nice for you to have Laoghaire and Alex around to keep you company.”
“If you say so uncle.” Claire smiled and Uncle Lamb gave her hand a gentle pat and she stood from her spot, reaching her hands down to help him up.
They began the short walk back to the house, the Autumn sun shined behind them, creating a peaceful glow on the house.
It was anything but peaceful when they arrived inside. Laoghaire and Alex were screaming at each other about wardrobes being too small and there not being enough room for all their shoes. Jonathan Randall was in the sitting in the lounge, ignoring all the commotion and reading a novel, obviously used to all the racket.
“What on earth is going on?” Claire asked, looking at the chaos that had exploded in the form of colourful clothing and wigs strewn about all over her bedroom.
“Well ye’re room is the biggest ye ken, Alex and I always share a room so we moved our stuff in here.” Laoghaire grunted as she picked up a pile of Claire’s clothes and dropped them in the hallway.
“But… this is my room. The only other room is-“ Claire groaned inwardly.
“The attic lass.” Alex smirked, tossing yet another audacious piece of clothing on his bed.
“Ye best get all ye’re stuff out of the hall Claire, Daddy doesna like a mess.” Claire sighed, she must show them kindness if she expected to receive an inkling of it in return.
“Yes of course.” She smiled and left the room, careful not to trip on her belongings scattered on the floor. A reflection down the hall caught her eye and she walked over to it.
It was her Mother’s hand mirror, one of the only things she had that was hers, lying broken and shattered. Claire didn’t cry often but a tear slid down her cheek as she bent down and picked up what was left of her Mother.
She held it gently to her chest and shut her eyes tight. “It’s okay Beauchamp, you’ll get through this.” Claire took several deep breaths and returned to pick up the few remaining earthly possessions she owned.
Her Uncle Lamb, she saw was now in the lounge sitting beside Jonathan Randall, holding his hand and smiling. She wiped away her tears and walked to the end of the hall, opening the door that led up to the attic.
It didn’t take her long to arrange everything, while it was quite dusty and there wasn’t much in the way of decoration, soon it was suitable enough. Her bed, her books and her friendly mice were really all she needed.
Claire didn’t return downstairs that evening, she thought she wouldn’t be missed in any case. She rose early the next morning, waking with the sun.
As she walked through the halls and down the stairs, she heard no sound. Everyone was still asleep, nothing was demanded of her so Claire went to the small stable that housed their two horses.
She saddled Brimstone, her favourite and set off into the woods surrounding the house, eager to escape with her own thoughts.
Claire loved how the air whipped across her face, it always helped to clear her mind whenever something troubled her.
She rode towards the sun, slowing down to a trot when she reached the river and continued to follow its path.
Brimstone snorted and neighed as they turned past a corner of trees, “What is it girl?” Claire stroked her mane, trying to calm the horse down, “What do you see?”
Claire spotted the root of Brimstone’s agitation, another horse was tied to a tree, it’s owner no where to be found. She clicked her tongue and brought Brimstone to a halt, leaping off and tying her next to the other horse.
The owner of the horse couldn’t have gone far she thought. Claire walked through the trees and down a small slope that led to the river. When she looked up she spotted him. A tall red haired man, drinking from his hands as he dipped them in the running water.
She stepped forward and her foot met a branch making a ‘crack’ sound. The man leapt to his feet, pulling out his sword and brandishing it in front of him making Claire take two steps back. She tripped on a rock wedged in the ground and fell on her bottom.
“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” She exclaimed, her hands going to her now sore bottom.
The man slid his sword in its hilt and ran over to her, crouching down to her level, “I’m sorry lass, I didna mean to scare ye” He laughed, amused with the situation. “I wasna aware of anyone else bein’ in this part of the wood, it was ye that gave me the first fright.” He held out his hand for her to take and she looked from his hand to his eyes.
Claire saw his face for the first time. He had a strong jawline, a straight nose, a bit of scruff on his cheeks and neck and the most gorgeous ocean blue eyes. He looked familiar but she couldn’t quite place him. Claire forgot her words as she looked into his eyes and he laughed again.
“C’mon lass, let me help ye up.” The man now reached for her hand and she shook her head, trying to collect herself. Claire was brought to her feet and swayed a little, unsteady on the uneven ground. The man’s hands immediately went to her waist to hold her upright and she felt a spasm of energy run through her body.
“Sorry” He said and removed his hands, holding them in fists now at his side, almost like he was afraid to involuntarily touch her again.
“Thank you.” Claire finally managed to speak. “And I’m sorry I snuck up on you like that, I saw your horse and came to investigate who it’s owner could be.”
“Aye, it’s my horse, Donas, I heard the river and needed a wee drink.” He smiled again, he was absolutely beautiful Claire thought.
He said something but Claire was too distracted by the way his mouth quirked up on one side to hear him.
“Sorry what did you say?” Claire blinked several times. She really must get better at concentrating.
The man smiled, his mouth doing that thing again which made her stomach do somersaults.
“I said, do ye live around here? I can tell by ye’re accent ye’re not from Scotland… a Sassenach.” He called her a Sassenach, often a derogatory word meaning ‘English person’ or ‘Outlander’, and not always the nicest thing to say to someone she thought.
“Meanin’ no offence to ye of course lass.” He said quickly once he saw the expression on her face.
“It’s alright. I take no offence to the word.” She actually liked the way he said it, his Scottish accent was like the bird song, sweet and musical. “And yes… I live just back there a ways” Claire pointed behind her, it was quite a ways actually and she had better be getting back before the household realised she wasn’t there… if they realised she was gone at all.
“Do you live near here then? I don’t normally see people when I come here to ride.” Claire put her hand over her eyes to shield them from the rising sun.
The man shuffled back and forth on his feet, he seemed a bit nervous. “Och, no. I live more in the city I suppose.”
“You suppose? You mean you don’t know where you live?” Claire tried to suppress a laugh, this man was becoming more and more interesting.
Aye, I ken where I live,” he laughed and ran his hand through his curly red hair, “I do live in the city, in Lallybroch.”
Lallybroch, it was the where the palace was, the King Brian Fraser and his recently late wife Ellen, the Queen, had ruled over the kingdom all her life. She had been into the city quite often, going with Uncle Lamb to help him sell his artefacts or pick up a few new books from the local bookseller.
“Which area do you live in? I go into the city quite often, would I know it?” Claire asked, the man’s cheeks blushed crimson red which she found odd but also charming.
“Aye, you would know it.” He didn’t say more, but suddenly turned and walked up the slope, Claire followed and saw another man come riding from the opposite direction.
“Who’s that man? Do you know him?” She asked and pointed in the direction of the stranger.
The red haired man cursed in Gaelic and untied his horse, mounting it easily and guided his horse back to the path. “Aye, he… works for my Father.” The man said unsurely.
“Your High-“ the stranger said to the red haired man but he interrupted him all too quickly, “It’s Jamie, Jamie! It’s Jamie!” He rushed out, stopping the other man from continuing his sentence.
The other man chuckled, “Well then… Jamie. Ye’re Father has asked me to come and fetch ye. Ye have…” He looked over at me, barely visible behind Jamie on his horse, “some important business to attend to.”
“Aye, I suppose I do. Fine Murtagh, I’m comin’.” The man, whose name I now knew was Jamie turned back to look down at me, his smile as bright as ever. “I must leave Sassenach, duty calls. Will I see ye here again?” He looked hopeful, almost childlike.
Claire blushed, her hands untying her horse from the tree as she spoke, “Perhaps I shall see you in the city some day.”
The other man suddenly laughed and then began coughing causing Jamie to glare at him. “Aye lass, maybe ye will.” Claire climbed on Brimstone and grabbed the reigns, pointing the horse in the direction of home.
“Sassenach!” James called before she raced off, “What’s ye’re name, ye know mine is Jamie…”
“Goodbye Jamie…” She smiled coyly and clicked her tongue, her thighs pressing against the horse beneath her and began riding in the opposite direction of Jamie.
She dared a glance back and saw that he was watching her, his mouth agape. “Sassenach!” He called out to her once more but she was too far away to respond.
If she ever saw that strange red haired man again, she promised to tell him her name but for now she kept that to herself, the only part of herself that she felt she owned anymore.