“Fergus will take it.”

“Me?” The boy’s eyes went round with astonishment.

“You, man.” Jamie took the paper from me, folded it, then knelt and tucked it inside Fergus’s shirt.

“This must reach my sister—Madame Murray—without fail. It is worth more than my life, man—or yours.”

Practically breathless with the enormity of the responsibility entrusted to him, Fergus stood up straight, hands clasped over his middle.

“I will not fail you, milord!”

A faint smile crossed Jamie’s lips, and he rested a hand briefly on the smooth cap of Fergus’s hair.

“I know that, man, and I am grateful,” he said. He twisted the ring off his left hand; the cabochon ruby that had belonged to his father. “Here,” he said, handing it to Fergus. “Go to the stables, and show this to the old man ye’ll see there. Tell him I said you are to take Donas. Take the horse, and ride for Lallybroch. Stop for nothing, except as you must, to sleep, and when ye do sleep, hide yourself well.”

Fergus was speechless with alarmed excitement, but Murtagh frowned dubiously at him.

“D’ye think the bairn can manage yon wicked beast?” he said.

“Aye, he can,” Jamie said firmly. Overcome, Fergus stuttered, then sank to his knees and kissed Jamie’s hand fervently. Springing to his feet, he darted away in the direction of the stables, his slight figure disappearing in the mist.

- Dragonfly in Amber 

They save Fergus.

This scene is better in the show ;)

anonymous asked:

please. tell us more about your 'folk bangers' playlist. that sounds relevant to all of my interests. (folks and banging)

if you want a playlist for banging folks this probably isn’t the one for you, but if you want to Go Off, Historically then WHAT’S UP 



Untitled by olya aleksandrova

The door swung open and Jamie walked in.

I felt my knees give slightly at sight of him, and put out a hand to steady myself on the cottage’s wooden chimney. He had been looking for me; his eyes darted around the room before they lighted on me, and a heart-stopping smile lit his face.

He was filthy, grimed with black-powder smoke, splattered with blood, and barefoot, legs and feet caked with mud. But he was whole, and standing. I wasn’t inclined to quibble with the details.


Dragonfly in Amber

Lament for Culloden

The lovely lass o’ Inverness,
Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
For e’en and morn she cries, ‘Alas!’
And aye the saut tear blin’s her e’e:
‘Drumossie moor, Drumossie day,
A waefu’ day it was to me!
For there I lost my father dear,
My father dear and brethren three.

‘Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay,
Their graves are growing green to see;
And by them lies the dearest lad
That ever blest a woman’s e’e!
Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord,
A bluidy man I trow thou be;
For monie a heart thou hast made sair,
That ne’er did wrang to thine or thee.’

by Robert Burns

“Water was dripping from the eaves down the back of my neck. I shivered and drew the woolen arisaid closer around my shoulders. I wondered when Jamie had written the document. The false date made it seem the property had been transferred before Jamie became a traitor, with his goods and lands subject to seizure—if it was not questioned, the property would pass safely to small Jamie. Jenny’s family at least would be safe, still in possession of land and farmhouse.”

- Dragonfly in Amber 

They save Lallybroch

Happy Birthday Sam Heughan born 30 April 1980 in Balmaclellan, Dumfries and Galloway.

Sam attended Kells Primary School in New Galloway before the family moved to Edinburgh when he was 12, he went to James Gillespie’s on the edge of the meadows before finishing his school education at the prestigious  Rudolph Steiner School. 

After leaving School at 18 Sam worked and travelled before returning to Scotland and enrolling in the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama, graduating in 2003. 

Sam built a solid career in theatre in both Scotland and England starring in productions of Plague Over England, Macbeth, The Talented Mr. Ripley, Amphibians, and King John. He has also been featured in notable indie films, “Emulsion”, and “Heart Of Lightness” but of course it is one particular role that has catapulted him into worldwide stardom, that of Jamie Fraser in Outlander.
For those who don’t know Outlander (yes there are some!) it follows the story of Claire Randall, a married combat nurse from 1945 who finds herself hurled back in time to the 1740’s in and around the time when The Jacobites and Bonnie Prince Charlie made the final illfated attempt to put the Stuarts back on the throne.  Sam plays Claire’s “love interest” she is forced to marry. 

Heughan is also very active in several charities, raising awareness as well as donations, by personally participating in marathons, and triathlons, for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Research Organization. He is also a patron of the Youth Theatre Arts Scotland. 

I have a number of friends who follow the series and have read the series of books by Diana Gabaldon that Outlander is based, there is a lot of speculation amongst the massive online following as to whether Sam and his co-star Caitriona Balfe have continued their online romance into the real world.

A gathering of clansmen and clanswomen has been welcomed to the Great Hall at Edinburgh Castle for the first time in centuries.

The last time the clans marched to the castle was when they came to Edinburgh to lay siege to it during the Jacobite uprisings in 1745.

The gathering on Monday was organised by The Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo, which is celebrating its own ties with the Scottish diaspora of clans this year.

Source, to continue reading and see the pictures:

272 years, now that’s a grudge!

Shifted - Part 7, Chapter 4

In Shifted, the premise is simple - what if Claire had gotten pregnant with Brianna a month or two earlier in the story, and she and Jamie had re-evaluated  their priorities and decided that the cause was lost, and they were able to slip away from the army and quietly return to Lallybroch?

Previous installments…

Part 7 - The Visitor

Lallybroch, Autumn 1762

She revived almost immediately, though – grateful that Jamie had been too focused on breaking her fall to punch Roger Wakefield in the mouth.

“I’m all right – I just need some air,” she gasped, bracing her arms against Jamie’s solid chest.

“Are ye sure, Sassenach?” He gripped her tightly. “Can ye please get her some water?” he asked the lady of the house. Terribly perplexed by the exchange, she quickly scurried out of the room.

“Give me that stool, lad,” he addressed the stranger. Startled back into the moment, Roger Wakefield dragged the stool closer to Claire. Jamie eased her down onto it, gripping her shoulders tightly.

“Now.” Jamie looked the man straight in the eye. “Just who in hell are ye?”

“You’re James Fraser – the Jacobite,” Roger said softly. “I’ve seen your pardon.”

Jamie’s brows knit. “I am. But what do ye mean, ye’ve seen the pardon? There are only two copies I know of, and I’ve got one of them.” One of Claire’s hands pressed on top of his, and he gripped her fingers gently. Strength.

“I’ve so much to tell. But perhaps not here?” Roger nodded at the woman, who had returned with a horn cup full of water. Claire thanked the woman and sipped the water slowly, thoughtfully.

“Aye. We live up at the main house – can ye ride a horse?”

Roger snorted. “Of course I can ride a horse. Do ye mean for me to come with ye, then?”

Jamie nodded. “Aye, I dinna want her riding on her own just now. Let’s go.”

Claire set down the now-empty cup and took Jamie’s hand, rising to her feet. She regarded Roger from this closer angle. His clothes were worn, but had obviously belonged to someone else, as they were slightly too large. His hands were soft – not the hands of one accustomed to doing manual labor. Clearly he hadn’t been in this time for very long.

“How long have you been here, Roger?” she asked softly.

Roger smiled ruefully. “Three months, give or take. I don’t know how you’ve been able to manage almost twenty years.”

She turned to her husband and met his eyes squarely. “This is how.”


They rode quickly, silently, back to Lallybroch. Claire sat wedged in front of Fraser, Roger trotting alongside. All three silently processed what had happened and prepared for what was to come.

Roger caught snatches of the Gaidhlig spoken between the Frasers – his low, sonorous tones, her halting, accented ones. He still hadn’t adjusted to the form of the language spoken in this area, in this time – so different from what he’d studied at Oxford – but it had been enough to get by.

Do you truly know him?


Yes, myself and my first husband met him when we visited Inverness. Right before I travelled.


Why do you think he’s here?


I do not know. I am fearful.


You have no need to fear, my heart. You know I will take care of it. And take care of you.

Roger hadn’t really known what to expect if – or when – he found Claire. He knew she had married Fraser, and become a healer of some renown in the area. She was still a remarkably beautiful woman – her face was nearly identical to the photograph he’d seen in the Reverend’s study, taken just days before her disappearance.

He’d had no idea what to expect with Fraser. It was one thing to find the deed of sassine, the pardon, the ledgers from Broch Tuarach with Fraser’s name. He had assembled a mental picture of what the man must look like – but it certainly paled in comparison to the reality. Fraser was literally larger-than-life – part warrior, part laird, part farmer, part politician.

And, based on what he’d observed in their short time together, a completely devoted and protective husband. Claire couldn’t have been clearer that he was the reason she had stayed, and that he had been her strength during her time here. And it also couldn’t have been clearer that she was Fraser’s source of strength as well.  

He must be a singular man to have captured the love of that remarkable woman.

Fraser drew his horse up short as they crested a hill, now in sight of the house. He turned to Roger. “This is our home,” he said slowly, deliberately. “This is my family’s land. You are a guest here. Dinna forget that, Mr. Wakefield.”

Roger swallowed. “I won’t.”

It wasn’t menace that underlay Jamie’s words. It wasn’t a clear threat, either – but a warning. Cross a line, say too much, upset Claire – Jamie would harm him. Or kill him, if necessary.

Roger kicked his horse to follow Fraser’s. He doubted Frank Randall would have made a similar comment – or had ever possessed a similar depth of feeling for Claire.

Slowly he began to understand why she had stayed.