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I watched the sliver of light coming through the window -- it was very early.
We had both been awake for hours. Unable to sleep, despite our rigorous bedtime activities, we had begun to talk about his recent trip to the Cherokee, and subsequently, our nephew.
Jamie wrapped his arms around me, snuggling his bare chest against my bare back, and had started to tell me everything.
It only took one look at Ian when he had returned to see that he had not left the Mohawk willingly. And that something terrible had gone wrong. I was glad to finally have answers to my many questions.
The small piece of sun had just begun to cast a warm glow on my face when Jamie said, “They had a child.”
I turned in his arms, facing him.
Not too long ago, Jamie had overheard Ian telling Marsali that he had a wife and child with the Mohawk. My mind had gone through a million thoughts at once. Mostly, how hard it must be for Ian to be here, at the ridge, away from them.
But as Jamie repeated those words to me now, combined with the look on his face as I turned around — I knew that this was not a joyful piece of news he was delivering.
“A daughter. She was—.” He searched my eyes for a moment. I tried to send him strength. It seemed to work, and he finished his thought.
“She was lost. Like Faith.”
There it was.
That hollow part of my chest that was always there. It was empty and yet somehow always full at the same time. It could pulse, and constrict, or sometimes it would seem to beat to the same tempo as the rest of my heart.
It was constant, but it ebbed and flowed, like the tide coming and going – though the sea was somehow more predictable than my grief. Some days it was just a dull sort of thrumming that was the background to my own hearts beating. Some days it was a throbbing ache that grew and grew until it covered me completely, until I was drowning in it.
Jamie’s hand touching mine brought me out of my thoughts. I looked to where his fingers were slowly interlacing with mine. Without realizing I was doing it, I had placed my hand over my lower abdomen — subconsciously reaching out to comfort the little one that had once lived there.
Linking my fingers fully with Jamie’s, I let our hands leave my belly and brought them up so I could rest the back of my hand against his chest. I felt the strong beating of his heart under his skin and the deep aching in my own heart began to resend back into its ever-present gentle thrum.
The drumming sound quieted as Jamie’s voice broke through my ears, close and warm.
“Ian didna get to see her. Like—.” He paused.
I finished for him, “Like you.”
“Aye, but he was there. And they didna let him see her. I wasna there, wi’ you. If I had been, I would have insisted—if they had tried to take her away without letting me—”
I stopped his rapidly spiraling words with a hand over his lips. He sighed against my fingers.
“I wouldn’t have let them.” I said simply, knowing that even though I had been angry at him in the moment, I never would have kept him from seeing his daughter.
“I ken.” He whispered, tired from simply the thought.
We were quiet for a time, my fingers drifting from his lips to his chin, his jawline, the tips of his ears.
“Will ye—” he paused, the two fingers of his left hand tapped three times against my shoulder before he stilled again.
I knew what he was going to ask. I shifted my leg to hook over his, encouraging.
“Will ye tell me about her again? If ye can?” His eyes were hopeful against mine.
He said, if I could.
He didn’t mean if I could remember.
He meant if I could do it without hurt, without pain.
I couldn’t. But I would anyway.
“Always.” I answered immediately.
His mouth quirked into his half smile and he nodded once in gratitude.
Though seemingly impossible, I curled closer into him and then released his hand. I brought both of my hands up to cup his face. Then softly, gently, I guided my fingers to close his eyelids.
I traced the line connecting his upper and lower eyelids with the tip of my finger, “Her eyes were closed, so I don’t know what color they would have been. But they had the same shape as yours.” I pressed a thumb softly across the back of his closed eye, “Slanted.”
He kept his eyes closed, imagining, as I started moving my hands up and back. I let my fingers brush across the tiny hairs right in front of his ears, “She had little wisps of hair, the most beautiful copper, just like yours.”
I let my hands comb into his curls, cupping the back of his head and leaning my forehead onto his. I whispered against his closed eyelids, “I could cup her head in the palm of my hand. She was so, so tiny.”
Jamie’s hands traced a path up my back, pulling me in closer to him, my bare breasts pressing into him, feeling the small hairs of his chest brushing against me. I sighed before continuing.
One hand on each of his ears, I fingered the appendages for a moment. Tracing the lines of cartilage that ran through the middle, squeezing the lobes between my fingers, gently folding the top of the shell down until it touched the middle of the ear.
“Her ears stuck out a little.” I said as I let the top part of his ear flop back into place, “I could see the light through them, through her skin.”
His eyes opened then, looked right into mine as he spoke softly, “Like a pearl. Wet from the sea.”
I gulped down a lump in my throat and nodded. I had told him all of this, once -- right after it happened. I had known he would never forget it, not a word. And he hadn’t, it would seem, for he had just said the exact thing I had said to him all those years ago.
Swallowing tears, I answered, “Yes.”
My eyes flicked back and forth between his, needing comfort. Strength. He held my gaze and his hands were strong against my back.
He tightened his grip on me, and tucked my head into his neck, stroking my hair. His actions were all to say, that’s enough, rest now.
I closed my eyes and let the soothing motion of his fingers, stroking the spot behind my ear, lull me back into the present moment.
Minutes passed, maybe an hour, I couldn’t say, before he spoke again.
“We prayed to her. Me and Ian.”
I opened my eyes but didn’t move. I watched his throat as he swallowed and then continued, “I told him that we could pray to Faith…that maybe she could find his daughter in heaven. They could be together.”
“Do you pray to her often?” I asked, lips touching the precious skin of his neck.
He hummed in the back of his throat and I felt it vibrate against my cheek, “Sometimes.”
I traced a finger along his collarbone, “What do you say to her?”
“It changes. Lately, I pray to tell her I’m thinking of her, that I love her wi’ all my heart. But when I was in the cave, I prayed to her to tell her that she would be getting a brother soon. A sister, as it turned out.” I felt his neck muscles move as he smiled.
He continued, “Right before Culloden, I prayed to tell her I was sorry. That I would see her soon. And that I couldna—” His voice cracked but he took a breath and finished, “--couldna wait to meet her.”
“Jamie.” I could hear the crack in my own voice before I reached up to clasp the back of his neck. I pushed my face into his and kissed his lips, hard, but then let my mouth simply rest against his as I closed my eyes and let my tears fall freely, at last.
He hitched my leg higher up on his hip and then wrapped his arms around me again as I shook. He tucked my head back into his neck as I cried and then he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. After, he left his lips there, among my curls, as he slowly stroked my shoulder until I was quiet once more.
The rays of light from the window behind me grew longer and longer across the bed as we lay.
I thought suddenly of Brianna, the other being who had also shared my body.
“Jamie?” I was whispering -- I didn’t know if I wanted to bring my thoughts into the room.
He squeezed my fingers with his until I looked up at him. The strong blue in his eyes reassured me.
“Brianna.” I said, searching his eyes to see if he understood.
Nodding softly, he slid one of his hands out from my back and reached up to cup my face. “It isna wrong to be grateful for her, Sassenach.”
I let out a small, choked, sob, relief washing over me that he knew — he always knew — exactly what was on my mind. A second wave of relief came at his words and his fingers traced the damp spots from tears that remained on my cheeks.
“I can’t help it — my mind thinks of losing her and then of having Brianna. And it makes me feel terrible. It’s not like Brianna is a replacement for—it’s not—”
“Shhhhhh,” Jamie closed his hand over my head, pushing my hair back, stroking softly. “Dinna fash, mo nighean donn.”
He leaned forward, kissed the new tear I had allowed to fall. I opened my eyes to see his own were wet.
“You too?”
“Of course. But that doesna mean your mind thinks of her as a replacement. Faith was created and born out of our love, mo nighean donn. And so was Brianna.” He brow furled seriously, making sure I was taking in his words. “Ye can be grateful for her. It doesna make you a bad person.”
I touched the pad of my finger to his chin. “No, I suppose not. Not if you’ve had the same thoughts. You’re a good person, Jamie.”
“Me?”
I let out a surprised chuckle, “Yes, you.”
He was quiet a moment before he breathed out, “I’ve killed.”
“In battle.” I retorted.
“Out of it, too.” He tossed back quickly.
He looked over my head as he listed, “I’ve lied to people I loved, tried to manipulate important figures, taken things that werena mine, tried to change history for selfish reasons….”
I grasped his jaw in my fingers and turned his gaze back to me, “You’ve taught all of your grandchildren how to ride a horse, you’ve given a home to the residents of the ridge, you’ve helped people who didn’t have anyone else, you’ve been kind to those who weren’t kind to you, you’ve saved the lives of people you didn’t know…..”
He sighed, unconvinced.
I tried again, more softly, “You’ve loved me. Selflessly, unconditionally.”
He sighed against my lips, leaning closer, “Aye. I have. And I do. Though, not completely without selfishness.” He smirked at me and I smiled in return.
“You’re the greatest man I’ve ever known, James Fraser.”
I pulled him on top of me, opening my legs for him to settle between. He knew what I needed. What we both needed.
He had said that Faith had been created and born out of our love for each other. And as he slowly slid into me, I sighed, knowing that this was a reminder to us both — that no matter what, as long as our love was present among us, so would our little girl.
After, we lay together — still joined — as the sun slowly filled the room more and more. I sighed, thinking of leaving him now.
“Maybe you should have told me yesterday,” I said, and he raised an eyebrow.
I smiled sadly up at him, “Then we could have gotten in bed and stayed here all night.”
I shot a disgruntled look towards the incoming sun through the window and then snuggled in closer to him, his broad chest warm under my cheek.
“I didna want you to have to sleep with these thoughts, mo nighean donn.”
I felt warmth in my chest blooming at my husband’s thoughtfulness— strings of heat spreading its arms and wrapping up my heart into a hug.
I kissed his chest and he whispered, “We can stay, Sassenach.”
I drew back, looked up at him, “You’ve been gone, don’t you have things to do? About a million people requested to see you when you were back—"
I hadn’t finished speaking before Jamie had placed a tender kiss to my forehead and carefully slid from my arms. I watched the movement of muscles in his strong thighs and wide back as he walked to the window and purposefully closed the curtains. Striding to the other side of the room now, he unceremoniously shoved an end table behind our door, locking us in.
I lifted the covers for him as he gently lay next to me and brought me back into his body. He didn’t need to say anything more — we would be staying here today. Together.