Twenty years ago, Jimin’s father struck a deal with Jungkook, the dragon to ensure that the crown will remain in the family. Twenty years later, Jungkook has come to claim his prize.
In return for Jimin’s life, his health, in return for an heir to the company throne, Jimin’s father had made a deal with a dragon.
**Notes: This is one of those fics that you don’t forget because of how random and out of the ordinary it was… if that makes sense? The fic in itself is only 2 chapters long, so the slow burn isn’t THAT serious, but just enough to make it believable. Want something new and magical? READ. THIS. FIC.
Jamie & Claire | AU | Claire doesn’t have a husband to return to. Jamie doesn’t have a price on his head. Seems like smooth sailing … right? (AO3)
I’d almost forgotten about this story … sorry !! But since there was no new episode yesterday, I decided to get my shit together and give you chapter two (yes, I know this is a poor substitute for THE reunion episode, but this is all I have!) Also thank you all so much for the lovely comments on chapter one!
Aaand a special shoutout to @bonnie-wee-swordsman who helped me with this chapter, she’s a lifesaver !! (or, at least a ficsaver) (It took some restraint though not to add “cue jaws theme” in the fic based on Bonnie’s comments …)
There can be danger in the lack of a purpose. When you no longer have something to give your life meaning, it’s awfully easy to throw caution to the wind and embark on a dangerous—and often foolish—journey.
Some people thrive in danger; they are hardwired to seek it out. For those people, the real danger is being idle, for boredom eats away at their very soul. They need a purpose like they need air to breathe, or food to eat.
Frank had said once he feared I loved my patients more than I loved him. He had said it half-jokingly, but he had been right.
I had always had a drive, though I had not always known towards what. But I kept moving forward, knowing I could never be content standing still. I had the tendency to seek out those dangerous environments other people would rather avoid, but I liked to think I didn’t have the fatal foolishness that some did. If I did, I would quite possibly find out soon.
On our way to Castle Leoch, Jamie regaled me with stories. He had told me about his uncles and Clan MacKenzie, after I’d shown quite a bit of enthusiasm for learning more about the place and its inhabitants. In truth, I had been to the castle once before—or would come there once more?—but at that time, it had been merely a ruin, inhabited by no one.
Foolish or not for putting myself in this situation, here I was, and I did think trying to learn something of the place to which I was headed was a good idea. Information would allow me to prepare, and preparation I definitely needed in order to lie effectively about my origin, for no one could know where I truly came from. Such was life for one with the misfortune of being cursed with a face of glass.
Jamie’s tales provided more than information, though. They were entertainment. He certainly had a gift for storytelling, and I enjoyed listening to him. Though his tales had initially unsettled me a bit, they were further confirmation that I truly was in the past—the eighteenth century—something I had realised when I happened upon Captain Randall, but still naïvely hoped to be a dream.
I hadn’t realised it then, but when Jamie asked me to come with him, I had made a decision to stay—for now, at least—in this time. There was little left for me where I came from, save that perilous boredom.
“I have to ask, Sassenach,” Jamie said, suddenly. “Why is it ye were lost in the forest in the first place? It seems unsafe for a lady such as yourself to travel alone, you could easily be—well, you know what could happen.”
I did. My unfortunate encounter with Captain Randall was not one I’d soon forget. It was only luck that had allowed me to get away unscathed. Luck in the form of a dashing rescuer, Jamie Fraser.
I tried to come up with a good explanation as to why I had wandered astray in the forest, but I had none. How could I tell him how I’d ended up here when I barely understood it myself?
I twirled the golden ring on my finger. I had told him I was widowed, mostly because I suspected the term divorced would be frowned upon, considering the times—even in my time, it wasn’t exactly something women would boast about.
I knew I had to tell Jamie something, even if I didn’t think he would force me to reveal something I didn’t wish to. He seemed to be a kind man, a gentle man, maybe even a loving man. He hadn’t talked extensively about his home, but he had mentioned a sister and of her, he’d talked very fondly. Family, it seemed, he valued greatly.
I took a deep breath.
“It’s a long story,” I began slowly, mentally berating myself for the, at best, clichéd opener; at worst, seeming attempt to stall or avoid answering altogether. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you why, but … I ran away.” That was partly true. With an ever-revealing face like mine, it was always better to stick closer to the truth than to outright lie.
That’s what I thought, at least, until Jamie, genuinely worried, said, “Are ye in danger? Are ye being chased by someone who wishes to do ye harm?”
His worry both warmed my heart and troubled me. Had he cared less, he would’ve asked fewer questions. It was unlikely that he’d be satisfied until he knew I wasn’t in any danger.
“No,” I said, with as much conviction as I could muster, “I promise, no one’s looking for me.”
I couldn’t see his face as we were on horseback, him sitting behind me, but I could imagine the look of concern that refused to leave his face.
“Did you know him?” I asked, eager to change the subject. “Captain Randall, that is.” I had seen how he’d looked at the captain when they fought, something that suggested there was more to his fury than seeing a stranger about to take a woman by force.
“Aye. I ken him.”
I glanced back, startled by the brevity. His gaze was fixed somewhere far off, his posture stiff. Whatever he was looking at, I couldn’t say, but then I thought neither could he. He seemed lost in thought, reliving a memory.
I was undeniably curious and wanted to ask how their paths had crossed before, what Randall had done to make this man hate him so. I didn’t ask, though. Whatever it was, if Jamie’s expression was anything to go by, it was not a pleasant topic of conversation.
While I understood that he might not wish to speak of something that seemed to pain him, I found myself a bit surprised seeing as he’d been so unusually, yet pleasantly, forthcoming with information about himself during our ride.
He had told me a number of things about himself. He had told me that, not too long ago, he had been an outlaw, and only recently had he been pardoned.
He’d said the price on his head had prevented him from returning to Lallybroch, as his ancestral home was called, and that was why he stayed at Leoch. What he hadn’t told me was why he, now a free man, chose to remain there, instead of returning home.
When we arrived at the castle, a woman rushed out to greet—or rather, scold Jamie. She eyed Jamie with disapproval and me with suspicion.
“What do ye mean by disappearing like that, lad? Gone all night! People have been askin’ for ye, not to mention—”
“Mrs Fitz,” said Jamie, as he helped me dismount. “This is—”
“And what do we have here?” asked Mrs Fitz. She surveyed me from top to toe. Her eyes lingered on my once-white dress with particular curiosity and not a little disfavour.
“Claire Beauchamp,” said Jamie. “I brought her here for protection.”
“Is that so?” Her face softened, the initial suspicion towards me subsiding.
“Aye. Would ye make sure she has some proper clothes? I should speak to my uncle.”
“Aye, and then there are other people who’d like to speak to ye as well, as I’m sure ye ken. I wouldna advise ye to wait too long.”
“Wait!” As Jamie was about to walk away, I reached out a hand, putting it gently on his arm, prompting him to stay. “Your wound. Unless you want it to get infected, you should let me clean and dress it properly.”
Having earned Jamie’s trust in my medical abilities after helping him with his shoulder the day before, he agreed without objection.
Mrs Fitz kindly showed us to a room where I could tend to my patient. The room was dark and cold, and the many shelves that adorned the stone walls were crammed with jars that clearly hadn’t been touched in a while; they were covered with dust.
Upon entering, I had turned my questioning gaze to Mrs Fitz, who explained, “’Tis the surgery. It hasena been used in some time, no since Davie Beaton passed.”
The temperature problem was soon remedied by a fire, and Mrs Fitz left us alone.
I hadn’t been prepared for the sight of Jamie’s bare back when he removed his shirt so I could tend to his shoulder. Scars covered the expanse of his back.
“The Redcoats,” Jamie explained. “They flogged me twice in the space of a week. They’d have done it twice the same day, I expect, were they no afraid of killing me. There’s no joy in flogging a dead man.”
“I shouldn’t think anyone would do such a thing for joy.”
“If Randall was not precisely joyous, he was at least very pleased with himself.”
I understood, then. Or, at least I thought I did. His hatred towards Captain Randall, the painful memory he hadn’t wished to speak about. This was it.
Much to my surprise, Jamie did speak of it now though. His earlier reluctance to do so had apparently dissolved. I wondered why. Was it something I’d done to prove myself more trustworthy? Was it that I’d now seen the scars, so I might as well know the story behind them? Perhaps he worried I would misjudge him for his scars if I didn’t know the full story.
He recounted the event whilst I dressed his wound. This was a far less cheerful tale than those he had shared with me on horseback, but his storytelling was vivid as ever.
I met his eyes, trying to show him the same sympathy and understanding he had shown me the day before. Since the moment we met, Jamie had been nothing but kind to me. He had shown more compassion than any man I’d ever met.
I stroked his arm to comfort him, and his lips curved upwards in reply. He looked younger when he smiled; there was something boyish about it. I realised that he must, in fact, be younger. That thought hadn’t occurred to me when he’d acted as my rescuer and protector. While I appreciated his heroic side, what drew me in was the vulnerability he had shown me, sharing his scars.
Hand still lingering on his arm, I leaned in slowly, my eyes not leaving his. I could feel his breath hot against my lips. An inch, and I would touch his lips—
He pulled back.
I didn’t quite know what to feel. Confusion hit me first, followed by shock that was soon replaced by embarrassment.
My eyes sought his, to ask for an explanation, or see if I had misinterpreted the situation, but he turned his head away, hiding his expression.
Mrs Fitz could not have returned at a better time. She helped me escape, as she was to fulfil Jamie’s request that I be given proper attire.
Before our departure she reminded Jamie once more to seek out his uncle Colum.
I followed her to a guest bedroom where she helped me change into a more appropriate dress, and sometime thereafter came a dark-haired man by the name of Murtagh to inform me that The MacKenzie wished to speak to me.
Mrs Fitz gave me an encouraging smile before I departed.
My escort, by contrast, didn’t speak another word to me, let alone smile.
Jamie had told me about Colum MacKenzie, Chief of Clan MacKenzie, but not in great detail. He had had more to say about his other uncle, Dougal, the war chief. Despite our awkward encounter, I found myself wishing Jamie was there by my side as I entered the tower room where the MacKenzie was waiting.
My silent escort was still waiting for me when I exited, but he wasn’t alone. Jamie was with him.
I couldn’t help but smile in relief at the sight.
“What did he say?” Jamie asked at once, excitement in his tone.
“You ask as though you don’t already know! You talked to him about me,” I said, crossing my arms, “you told him I was a healer.”
“Aye, I had to say something so he’d let ye stay, didn’t I? He was verra suspicious at first when I said I’d brought a Sassenach here.”
“I’d say he was still verra suspicious when we spoke,” I said in a poor imitation of his accent. Colum had been suspicious, but he had let me stay nonetheless, thanks to Jamie. He had gifted me the late Davie Beaton’s surgery, in return for my serving as the castle’s new healer, for the duration of my visit.
“He did invite me to the hall tonight, though,” I continued, “there is to be a Welsh singer apparently—”
“JAMIE FRASER!” The voice came from somewhere farther down the stairs. Rapid footsteps that likely belonged to the voice echoed loudly as they neared.
Jamie, having tensed up at the high-pitched shriek, looked over at Murtagh, wordlessly asking for counsel.
Murtagh raised his eyebrows so as to say, “What did I tell you?” making me wonder just what Murtagh had told Jamie and why.
The footsteps reached the top of the stairs and facing us was now a young, round-faced girl with her arms crossed over her chest. Her pale eyes narrowed as they noticed me.
“Jamie Fraser!” she repeated. It was less of a shriek this time, but no less angry. “Where have ye been!?”
Jamie opened his mouth to explain, but the girl cut him off.
“And whois that!?” Her voice was venomous as she jerked her head rudely at me.
“Ah … this is Claire Beauchamp,” he said, “she’s a guest of the MacKenzie and the new healer of the castle.” Evidently explaining me was easier than explaining his whereabouts since yesterday afternoon.
The girl was still waiting for further explanation. Jamie sighed and said, “I was out riding.”
“RIDING!? Ye mean to say ye’ve been out riding all night?”
“Laoghaire, perhaps we can have this conversation in private?”
The girl—Laoghaire—muttered something, then turned and started walking down the stairs, Jamie following her.
“Who was that?” I asked Murtagh after they had left.
Dan gawked at the looming tower above him, mouth wide open. How the fuck was he supposed to get up there? Hands on his hips, he huffed, staring up at the double-door window at the very top. He figured who was up there already; bringing two hands to either side of his mouth, he dragged in a deep breath and yelled.
Editor: NICE!!!! You just finished the cochlea raid arc and Kaneki is finally back with his old crew!!! So what’s going to happen in your next arc? More death? Who will die in this arc?
Ishida: no one
Ishida: in fact, I’m going to spend my time mending some bonds here and there, some good stuff
-a couple chapters later-
Editor: heyo!!! This is good!!! You got mutsuki and the oggai to destroy the shop like anteiku!! This is pretty interesting, now what about those deaths? I’ve only seen maybe 2 or 3 of them this time arou-.
Ishida: I’m going to spend my time on kanetou/ touken. Make the manga more light hearted
Editor: oh, okay…
-after chapter 142-
Editor: ah, I see here, Kaneki gets back in time and he saves the day? That’s pretty heroic, but I doubt anyone will die since you don’t do that anymo-
Hints that Elizabeth knew about Our Ciel not being the real one on chapter 66.
The first hint was the following:
She looks so shocked. That pattern probably had something to do with something she and real Ciel did when they were little. By the time our Ciel noticed he messed up, he just pretended the conversation was over and doesn’t give Elizabeth a chance to continue.
On the Luxury Liner Arc, our Ciel had a mild asthma attack and when Elizabeth noticed, he tried to cover it by saying “I just chocked on some water”.
Her face sure does look like she didn’t actually believe it, but the thing is here:
As she wonders to herself what could have happened to him, she recalls the time he had an asthma attack.
Which means not only she didn’t buy what he said; she totally knew something was up, and that it was somehow related to what happened that month.
The chapter is finally out. I had a lot of problems with this one. At one point I completely lost the file for it from a power outage and it really upset me and through me in a loop.
But I tried my best to rewrite it. I’m sorry if it feels weird though 0.0 http://archiveofourown.org/works/11731842/chapters/28031808