clan murray

anonymous asked:

You can't leave Vietnam AU like that, we need to know the resst ;)

Vietnam AU

“This is the day the Lord has made,” Murtagh FitzGibbons Fraser intoned from the lectern of St. Bride Church. “Let us rejoice and be glad.”

Jamie sat up a bit straighter at the end of the front pew, twining his fingers through Claire’s, exchanging a small smile with his godfather.

For as long as anyone could remember, every Sunday morning the Fraser-Murray clan had attended eight o’clock Mass at the church their forefathers had built at the turn of the nineteenth century. Just a ten minute drive from the Big House, it had originally served just the family and tenants of the Fraser estate. Jamie, Jenny, and Murtagh were the only Frasers remaining in the area – most of the extended family had moved to Asheville or Raleigh after World War II – but those three stubborn Frasers had held strong.

Jamie and Jenny’s parents had been married at St. Bride’s. The three Fraser children – including the eldest child, Willie, who had died of smallpox when Jamie was small – had been baptized there. Murtagh – who lived in his own cottage on the estate with his wife Suzette, who he had brought home from France after landing on the beaches of Normandy – ran the lector program. Jenny and Ian had been married there, and Young Jamie and Maggie in turn had been baptized there.

And as Claire rose with Jamie, watching Father Kenneth kiss the Word of God, smile out at the congregation, and begin reading from the Gospel of Luke – she saw herself and Jamie standing before the priest at the altar. And standing off to the side below the gorgeous stained glass window of Michael the Archangel, just behind the baptismal font, gently holding a fussy newborn while reciting the baptismal promises. And exchanging proud smiles with Jamie as a beautiful red-haired girl received her First Communion. And holding Jamie’s trembling hand as they watched a handsome red-haired boy be confirmed.

This was her place. He was her place.

“Thanks be to God,” she whispered. Serene.

“I was thinking of taking Claire up the mountain – to the old cabin. I can check on it, and maybe bring back a bottle or two for dinner?”

Murtagh chewed thoughtfully on his pancakes. “I haven’t been up there since the fall – would be good to make sure it’s gone through the winter without any major damage. Take note of what would need a repair, all right?”

Claire nodded her thanks as Suzette poured another cup of steaming coffee. “What’s the old cabin?”

“It’s the house that was built before this one – on the highest part of the Ridge.” Jenny wiped maple syrup off Young Jamie’s face with the corner of her blue-and-white striped napkin. “It’s just a few rooms – we haven’t updated it much over the years, except added a generator for electricity.”

“We stay there overnight sometimes when there’s a lot to do in the whisky caves,” Jamie added, serving Claire another slice of Mrs. Crook’s excellent bacon before nibbling on one himself. “It’s where we let the bottles age. We only take them out once a year, to sell them to the restaurants and bars in town – but I want to find a good one for us to enjoy tonight.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because you’ve got Jamie smiling again, Claire,” Ian said quietly from across the table. “And Lord knows, Jenny and Murtagh and Suzette and I have been trying to do that since he got back from ‘Nam.”

Claire dropped her eyes to her lap, cheeks flaming. Under the table, Jamie lay a gentle hand on her knee, squeezing softly.

Murtagh coughed.

“Well then. Can you pass the strawberry jam please, my dear nephew-in-law? These bannocks won’t eat themselves.”

Fresh air. Pine. The soft, damp smell of decaying leaves. Flashes of green as the first grasses and flowers shot up from the forest floor.

And Jamie – solid and quiet beside her, never letting go of her hand, silently savoring the stillness.

It had been about two hours since they’d left the house – Jamie toting a backpack full of snacks from Mrs. Crook, Claire wearing Jenny’s pre-pregnancy jeans and hiking boots. They hadn’t spoken very much on their journey – both lost in their thoughts, both afraid to pierce the quiet with the sound of their voices.

“It’s just up over the crest of this hill,” he said softly, after a while.

“How can you even tell where we are? It’s just trees and more trees,” she teased.

He flashed a brilliant smile. “My father started taking Jenny and Willie and I hiking in these woods as soon as I could walk. He’d take me up to the caves and let me play with the spare pieces of wood while he and Murtagh and my grandfather Simon sorted the bottles. Believe it or not, there are plenty of landmarks along the way – trees and rocks that you’ll recognize in time.”

In time.

For Claire would be coming back.

Right?

They hadn’t talked about it – hadn’t even broached the topic. But it was Sunday afternoon, and Claire’s plane ticket back to Boston was for tomorrow morning.

Panic surged.

Jamie – ever perceptive – stopped as they crested the hill.

There it was – a small cabin, simply shingled and with just a few windows. It was immediately clear why the first Frasers had chosen to build there – for the ground in front of the cabin gently sloped into a grassy clearing.

“There used to be a barn here as well, but it was gone even before my grandfather was a boy. This place – it’s always been a refuge. A – well. I knew a guy in the Marines whose parents were German, and he told me of something called a ‘fridstool.’ A private place where you can be alone with your thoughts.”

Claire turned to meet Jamie’s eyes. The one-o-clock sun streamed on his face, sparking his hair like fire.

“And you’re OK taking me here? To your private place?”

He sighed and settled his hands on her hips, turning her to face him. Licked his lips, and burned his eyes into hers.

“I want to share *everything* with you, Claire. Here – in my most private place. Where we can pretend we are the only man and woman in the world.”

Another surge – but this time of love. And want.

And need.

“Yes,” she replied to his unspoken question. “Of course. Yes.”

He swallowed, and smiled, and gently led her down the hill.

3

Clan Murray

The name Murray originated from the region of Moray in the north-east, in the 11-12th centuries Scottish monarchs began controlling their kingdom more tightly by establishing reliable knights, often Anglo-Norman families, in specific regions giving them absolute power over the local population.David I  had installed the Flemish knight Freskin in Linthgowshire. After suppressing the Celtic chiefs of Moray in 1130, David I placed loyal Freskin in control of that area. The Murray families originate from here taking the name of the lands as their surname.Sir Andrewde Moray foughtwithWilliam Wallace’s rebellion of 1297.The Murrays of Tullibardine descend from Malcolm de Moray whose son, Sir John, married the daughter of the Seneschal of Strathearn bringing them the lands of Abercairney around 1320. Another marriage by the family into the old Celtic aristocracy of Perthshire by Sir William brought further lands around Tullibardine.Sir David Murray founded a Collegiate Church at Tullibardine in 1445 - this remains unaltered.James VI granted lands around Scone to David Murray making him Lord Scone in 1605 and Viscount Stormont in 1621.The Earldom of Atholl passed to John Murray of Tullibardine through female decent in 1629. In 1703 Queen Anne raised the title to Duke. The chief of the Murray Clan is the present Duke of Atholl.

Lord George Murray was Bonnie Prince Charlie’s brilliant general during the 1745 Jacobite Rebellion.

Lieutenant Colonel Bruce Murray not only is the current Chief of Clan Murray but  Commands the only private legal army in Europe, The AthollHighlanders. The Clan seat is the splendid Blair Castle in Perthshire.

flickr

This is Bothwell Castle (at night) by rmtx
Via Flickr:
Bothwell Castle is a large medieval castle sited on a high, steep bank, above a bend in the River Clyde, in South Lanarkshire, Scotland. It is located between Uddingston and Bothwell, about 10 miles (16 km) south-east of Glasgow. Construction of the castle was begun in the 13th century by the ancestors of Clan Murray, to guard a strategic crossing point of the Clyde. Bothwell played a key role in Scotland’s Wars of Independence, changing hands several times. The huge cylindrical Donjon was built in the 13th century, but before the rest of the castle was completed it was severely damaged in a series of sieges. Rebuilding in the early 15th century enlarged the castle, but it was abandoned by the 18th century. The present ruin is rectangular, with the remains of the Donjon to the west, and the later Great Hall to the east. The courtyard is enclosed by long curtain walls, with round towers at the south-east and south-west corners.

Etymology of Sly Cooper Names I: Cooper Gang + Ancestors

Originally posted by 0verwatch

I like etymology a lot and I haven’t seen a post like this so I thought I’d make a full list of the origins of Sly Cooper names at least for what can have etymology. Anything that can’t I’ll try to trace to something. Note: this just where the names come from and not necessarily why Sucker Punch named these characters what they are.

Also this is just my interpretation, I could be 100% wrong after all so if you disagree I’d be interested to hear your interpretation but also chill if you don’t like what I have interpreted.

I’ll also include last names when I can.

Also there are spoilers for some of these names that spoil some of the games so fair warning!

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anonymous asked:

Imagine Jamie/Claire telling Jenny and Ian why Claire *really* disappeared for 20 years

In canon Jamie and Claire eventually tell Jenny, Ian, and the rest of the Murray clan about Claire’s unique abilities in An Echo in the Bone. Rather than imagine exactly how that explanation unfolded, I’ve come up with something set in Voyager soon after Claire’s return. Enjoy. - Lenny


Ian was quiet as they headed up the street in the direction of the print shop, the initial shock of seeing Claire again putting him in a contemplative mood. Jamie knew it had been a mistake to bring up his idea of having young Ian to live with him.

“I’m sorry about the lad,” Jamie reiterated. “I’ve had my hands a bit full the last day what wi’ Claire.”

“Aye well, yer hands are like to get fuller soon when it comes to Claire,” Ian snapped. “Or did ye already tell her about Laoghaire?”

Jamie went red in the face and looked away, fear and anger swelling within him. He fought to push them away with memories of her body fitted tight against his as they slept. It had been the first satisfying night’s rest he’d had in ages, despite spending very little of the night asleep instead holding her in his arms—present instead of always reaching for her. The knowledge that that one night might be all he had with her was both more than he’d hoped to have and not enough, sharpening the fear even as it quelled the anger.

“What I dinna understand is how ye could have married Laoghaire when there was a chance Claire had lived? I ken ye thought she was dead—and perhaps ye had good reason to think so—but ye never thought to look for her?” Ian asked, puzzling his way through Jamie’s actions.

“And when was I supposed to look for her exactly?” Jamie countered. “Lord knows I had enough time on my hands in that cave, but I was a wee bit short of resources. Might have had more in prison but they kept me busier out on the moor cutting peat. And then there was Helwater where I couldna go by my own name, but oh, searching high and low for my wife should ha’ been easy there did I only think to do so.” Jamie’s thick and resentful sarcasm cut deep. He hadn’t realized Ian stopped several steps back and had to retrace his steps, an apology ready on his lips.

But Ian apologized first. “I’m sorry, Jamie. I ken how ye feel about Claire. If ye’d any hope of her being alive, ye’d have done everything in yer power to find her again.”

Jamie nodded but the guilt of lying to his best friend was gnawing at his gut. “And ye’re right too, about Laoghaire. I… I just dinna ken how to tell her about that. I’m afraid… I’m afraid it will prove too much for her and I’ll lose her again. I… canna live through that again.”

Ian patted his friend on the shoulder sympathetically. “And she was in France the whole time?” he wondered, his disbelief—and doubt—evident.

Jamie swallowed. “She wasna in France,” he said quietly, then laughed. “Though, ye willna believe the truth were I to tell ye.”

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On 16 April 1746, the Jacobite army was defeated by Hanoverian forces in the Battle of Culloden.

The defeat marked the end of the last Stewart attempt to regain, by force, the throne forfeited by James VII. Bonnie Prince Charlie refused the advice of his most able general, Lord George Murray, over the positioning of the Jacobite forces, letting himself be persuaded into placing his troops on an open moor, which gave all advantages to the Hanoverians. Charles compounded this error by choosing this moment to take personal charge of his force for the first time. In less than an hour the government force, outnumbering the Jacobites two to one and with a vast advantage in artillery, defeated them for the first and last  Again with posts like this a wee bit sensitivity is required, let’s keep our emotions in check and think about the dead who lie buried beneath Drumossie Moor, for the English who fought on both sides, for the Irish Brigade and their fellow countrymen a squadron of Irish cavalry fighting alongside the French army at the battle alongside the regiment of Royal Scots (Royal Ecossais) raised the previous year to support the Stuart claim, for the Ulstermen and some Hessians from Germany and Austrians. For the Scottish Lowlanders and for the Clans Boyd,Cameron, Chilsom, Davidson, Drummond, Farquharson, Fraser, Hay, Livingstone, MacBean, MacColl, for the Macdonalds of Glencoe, of GlenGarry, of Keppoch and Clan Ranald, the MacDuff, MacFie and MacGillibray Clans, The MacGregor, MacInnes, MacKinnon, MacKintosh, MacIntyre, Maclver, MacLachlan, MacLaren, MacLean, MacLea, The MacNeil who came from Barra,Clan MacNaughten, Clan MacPherson and Menzie, Morrison, Oglivy, Oliphant, Robertson and for Stewart of Appin. Along with the clans listed on the side of Bonnie Prince Charlie was the regiment of Atholl Highlanders made up of Clan Murray and the following clansmen of Clan Ferguson, Stewartof Atholl, men from Clan Elphinstone, Forbes, Keith, Mac Kenzie,MacLeod of MacLeod, also my own Caln Macleod of Lewis, MacTavish, MacMillan, Maxwell, Ramsey and Clan Wemyss. Friday at midnight I will be thinking of the men who died that day and for the misery that swept across Scotland in the years that followed during the Clearances and I will be thinking of my friends who are on Culloden Field at that time, and those at the service on the Saturday.

shorthumbz  asked:

Suggestions ... William visiting the Ridge; Brianna, Roger and their kids having returned not long before. My first "asks," so I beg your indulgence. Imagine ... 1) Bree, Roger, and Ian telling/explaining to W about the "major misunderstanding" that led to Roger's captivity and release (esp Jamie & Claire's role). 2) Mandy lets slip something about "the stones" to William and J & C hustle to explain; 3) Bree tries to explain to W re: J & C's great love w/o referring to time travel. Thanx much!

@timeisonthetable asked: Hi there! Imagine the conversation Jamie and Claire have with William telling him about where she came from. Does William believe it? Or does he refuse ? :))

anonymous asked: Any plans to continue “Tell Me About Your Family ”? There’s a chance I’m alone in this but I like William. Jamie’s revelations about wee Mandy being a tiny Claire are adorable.

@escayna asked: Imagine William visiting the Ridge post-MOBY and getting to be an uncle to Jem and Mandy.

Reuniting at Fraser’s Ridge AU

They’d waited to tell him until after the supper plates were cleared and the Fraser/MacKenzie/Murray clan began tucking in to their lovely – if simple – dessert of baked apples. Mandy quickly hoisted herself up on the bench, standing on her tiptoes to reach the pot of honey at the middle of the table, carefully sliding it across the smooth planks with Ian’s assistance. Rachel helped the girl spoon honey onto her apple before turning to her left and serving Roger. Jamie reached under the table to squeeze Claire’s knee – drawing her attention and silent agreement that now was the moment to move forward.

“William, a bhailach?”

The lad looked up, startled, from the opposite end of the table – chewing thoughtfully. “Pardon?”

Jamie sighed – belatedly remembering that the lad had no Gaidhlig. Something that he and Brianna would quickly remedy.

“There’s something we all wish to tell ye. It’s best for ye to hear it in the company of yer family – so ye can ask all of us questions, if need be.”

William carefully lay down his spoon and sat up just a bit straighter – readying himself. He raised his chin – meeting Jamie’s blue gaze – the tilt of his face and the way he rested his palms flat on the table mirroring his father. The resemblance was so striking that Claire blinked in shock – and was momentarily transported back nearly forty years, to that fateful night at Leoch where Jamie had defied his uncles at the final MacKenzie Gathering with the exact same look on his face.

“Ye’ll know that Claire and Brianna and Roger Mac and the bairns are different, aye?”

William’s gaze narrowed. “Yes.”

Jamie threaded the fingers of his right hand through Claire’s, squeezing tight. “And ye’ll also know that I take counsel from them in which side I’ve taken in this war, and in the decisions I make in running the farms.”

William nodded, dark brows furrowed, clearly struggling to follow Jamie’s logic.

Jamie licked his lips. “So. I trust them implicitly. It’s my duty – and Ian’s – and Roger’s – to protect all of them from harm. Because they know things. They know what will happen to the Colonies. They know that the English will not prevail in this war. They know that the Indians will be run off their lands. They know that there will be great growth in this country, and that thousands and thousands of ships will come across the ocean, full of people wanting to settle here.”

Clearly bored with this sudden turn in the conversation, Mandy helped herself to Rachel’s half-eaten apple – delighting in how neither her mother nor her father stopped her.

William darted his eyes to look at Ian – and Roger – and Brianna – and Jem. “But how? How do they know such things? And I know they’re your - our - family, but why do you trust them?”

“Because they’re from the future,” Jamie said baldly.

William blinked. “Excuse me?” He turned to face his sister – politely diverting his eyes from Rachel, who had hoisted a fussy Oggy from his basket to feed him his own supper – face full of questions.

“Mama, Roger, and I – we were born and grew up in the twentieth century,” Brianna said softly, laying a soothing, gentle hand atop a fist William hadn’t even realized he’d formed.

He frowned, mind racing. “I – I – that’s impossible.”

“It’s not.” Roger’s voice was quiet, but strong. “We’ve all done it, more than once. Travelled through time, I mean. Even Mandy.”

Finally happy that the grown-ups had decided to bring her into the conversation, Mandy nodded at her uncle. “Aye. We went thwoo the magic wocks in Scotland!”

“Magic - ??” he gaped.

“Stone circles – surely you’ve seen them in your travels? They mark…passages, of sorts. Places where those who are able to can travel.” Brianna gently rubbed the back of William’s hand – only slightly larger than her own. “I know it sounds impossible, I didn’t believe it either, at first. But it’s real.”

“Aye, it’s real all right,” Jem added, eyes trained on his empty plate, one finger idly tracing back and forth over a chip in the fire-hardened clay.

“But – but why? Surely things are – are different where you come from. Why live here, in the middle of a war, when surely things are safer in that other time?” William raised his elbows to the table and cradled his head in his hands, scrubbing his fingers back and forth through his thick, dark hair.

“Because this is where our family is,” Claire finally said. “Because when I fell through the stones the first time, nearly forty years ago, I met Jamie. I married him. I wanted to build a life with him. And that was more important to me than anything else.”

William looked up at her – the short ends of his hair sticking straight up – and watched his father gather her close against him and kiss her temple.

“But I don’t understand – you married him here? And yet Brianna and Roger were raised - then?”

“They were separated for nearly twenty years, cousin.” Ian hoisted a drowsy Oggy from Rachel’s lap up to his shoulder, gently patting the baby’s back. “She came back only when Cousin Brianna was old enough to live on her own.”

“Twenty years?” William gaped. Claire watched as he made some mental calculations. “That means - that means when you were at Helwater, that was when you were separated from Mother Claire. When you and my mother -”

His manners prevented him from going further - but the way that Jamie pressed his lips together tightly was all the answer that William needed.

Then for a long moment, William looked at each person – each member of his family – very carefully. From Jamie – whispering something into Mother Claire’s ear – to Mother Claire, her face nearly ashen – to Ian and Rachel, patiently watching him – to Brianna, sharing a small smile of encouragement – to Roger, gently rubbing Mandy’s sticky hands with a linen napkin – to young Jem, trying desperately to show he was an equal in this conversation among the adults.

“Does my stepfather know?”

“I know he suspects something - but I’m fairly certain it’s not that.” Claire pushed away her empty plate, one hand still linked with Jamie’s atop the table.

“Now do ye understand why I must protect my wife and daughter so, William?” Jamie asked softly. “Why they and the bairns are so precious to me? Why I trust them, and Roger Mac, as much as I do?”

William could only shake his head in amazement. “I still don’t understand it a bit – not yet. But I trust you. All of you. You have good hearts – you’ve no reason to deceive. I trust that you’re telling me the truth.”

“I am. We are. And I must ask ye to no’ tell anyone else.”

He sat up straight with indignation. “I’d never – ”

“He knows,” Roger said gently. “But he still has to ask, aye?”

“Yes, of course,” William breathed. “But still – I – stones? And time travel? I don’t quite understand it all.”

The room fell silent as William took his time to process everything. Mandy, suddenly bored with the quiet, folded her tiny arms on the tabletop, rested her head in the crook of one elbow, and fell promptly asleep.

“Do you – do you think that I could travel?” William asked after a long while. “That would be so – so *fantastic* to see the future!”

Brianna and Claire exchanged meaningful glances. “Oh, little brother,” she shook her head. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”